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Helena's Tale
- Thread starter thehangingtree
- Start date
Across from the gallows, Helena knelt locked in a pillory. Tears ran down her face as she looked out at the dead bodies Barbara and Siss, known only to her as Passion and Lust.
On the far side of the village in the catacombs of the cathedral Roxanne was tortured relentlessly. As by law the inquisitors only had one session with her. The law did not specify how long that session could last. She was locked in a spiked chair and a brazier of hot coals was place under the seat. The spikes pierce her flesh and the hot metal seared her wounds.
Still Roxanne refused to confess. Clamps were placed first on one hand then the other and her fingers were brutally broken. Crazed with pain she still refused to confess
Father Lynch returned from the tavern and was annoyed that his inquisitors had yet to break Roxanne. He ordered a new tact and had her suspended in strappado first with no weights. Roxanne only cursed the inquisitors. Then a 40 kilo (nearly 90 lbs.) weight was attached to her left ankle and she was hoisted up again. As she struggled she cried out in agony as both shoulders were dislocated to add to the pain of her crushed fingers.
Salts were held under her nose and she wretched what little was in her stomach. She cried “Stop! Let me talk to Passion and Lust!”
“You mean Siss and Barbara. You will have to hang to do that as there dead bodies are still in the square dangling from nooses” Father Lynch coldly stated. “Let me tell you where this stands before I have you lowered and place another weight on your other ankle. Either you confess to the sins of seduction and deviant carnal acts or not only you will hang tomorrow in the square but Helena, the woman you call Ecstasy will join you as an adulteress.”
“You can’t do that!” Roxanne howled.
“Really? How do you plan to stop me?” Father Lynch demanded.
Wracked with pain Roxanne moaned “I confess to the crime but not the sin!”
Father Lynch shrugged and said “That works for me…”
Tree
On the far side of the village in the catacombs of the cathedral Roxanne was tortured relentlessly. As by law the inquisitors only had one session with her. The law did not specify how long that session could last. She was locked in a spiked chair and a brazier of hot coals was place under the seat. The spikes pierce her flesh and the hot metal seared her wounds.
Still Roxanne refused to confess. Clamps were placed first on one hand then the other and her fingers were brutally broken. Crazed with pain she still refused to confess
Father Lynch returned from the tavern and was annoyed that his inquisitors had yet to break Roxanne. He ordered a new tact and had her suspended in strappado first with no weights. Roxanne only cursed the inquisitors. Then a 40 kilo (nearly 90 lbs.) weight was attached to her left ankle and she was hoisted up again. As she struggled she cried out in agony as both shoulders were dislocated to add to the pain of her crushed fingers.
Salts were held under her nose and she wretched what little was in her stomach. She cried “Stop! Let me talk to Passion and Lust!”
“You mean Siss and Barbara. You will have to hang to do that as there dead bodies are still in the square dangling from nooses” Father Lynch coldly stated. “Let me tell you where this stands before I have you lowered and place another weight on your other ankle. Either you confess to the sins of seduction and deviant carnal acts or not only you will hang tomorrow in the square but Helena, the woman you call Ecstasy will join you as an adulteress.”
“You can’t do that!” Roxanne howled.
“Really? How do you plan to stop me?” Father Lynch demanded.
Wracked with pain Roxanne moaned “I confess to the crime but not the sin!”
Father Lynch shrugged and said “That works for me…”
Tree
Tree sleeps...
Be well all
Tree
Be well all
Tree
Great job Tree of capturing Siss' irrepressible snarkiness, even in the face of death...not to mention my own contrariness...your writing is so good at giving your characters an identity, and exploring their thoughts and feelings as the contemplate and experience the horrors you dream up for them.....
but, would I really leave a "trail of pee" on the ground as I swung.... right, proper Midwestern girls like myself, never pee in public....that part is out of character.
Oh thanks for all that Gallic indifference to the hanging of your two American sisters Messa!!! Geeze!
French feistiness, like all things French, is an art....and our Messa is an artiste extraordinaire.
And this stranger Tree from the new world what could have been if he arrived a day earlier....French feistiness, like all things French, is an art....and our Messa is an artiste extraordinaire.
Tree
P
Pia
Guest
That is the sexiest hanging ever!
Dorothy Brown
Brown Sugar
You Are A Sadistic Sod Ar`nt You, Poor Girls, and that woman in the town square Tarred And Feathered Is Me.
Did You Have Anything To Do With That
I confessed to save Helena, my dear Ecstasy, from the noose. The next morning before dawn I am taken to the gates of the village and stood on a platform with a rope around my neck and my arms pinioned behind my back. They needn’t have bothered as my broken fingers could not unfasten the knot securing the rope around my neck. It is market day and farmers and vendors will all file past me as come to set up their booths in the square before I am led to the square to be hanged at noon. Because I refused to confess to the sin of seduction and deviant carnal acts but only the crime of such acts I am denied even the thread-bare gowns that Siss and Barbara wore to their deaths…
-Roxanne
-Roxanne
Many of the farmers and vendors passing on the way to the square do not know that days ago I lived the pampered life of an old rich man’s pampered trophy bride. There is no sign saying who I am or why I am to be hanged. All look at me and any comments are made among themselves as if I were cattle to be led to slaughter.
The time comes for my last walk. A constable unties the rope from the post and helps me from the platform and hands the rope around my neck to a nun that will lead me to the gallows but before I am led though the crowd the constable orders me to spread my legs. Thinking there is no point in drawing his wrath I obey. I gasp and squeal in pain as some massive thing is rammed into my bum with a smaller part into my slit!
Not only is it long and thick it must weigh more than two stones but the shape of it precludes any possibility of it slipping out or me being able to expel it! The constable slaps my buns and laughs “You don’t want to crap in front of the crowd while you hang. I think your friends were embarrassed when they did though they didn’t say anything! Take her away, sisters!”
I begin my death march and crowds line the narrow avenues as I take my last walk.
Again the vast majority of the crowd keeps their comments among themselves as if I am dumb animal being paraded past. Yes, I was naked with my lovers in the meadow but I am marched naked past men and women I don’t even know. As if it could not get worse, the closer I am to the town square there are more and more people I know. My heart says flee but my head says they have stripped me of any dignity but what is still within me!
There is a man and a woman with their daughter watching my progress. I am mortified as I recognize them as people who I had entertained at my home! Behind them a woman watches from the window of the brothel calls out “I’ll be damned, I wasn’t going to go to the hanging today but look who is getting her neck stretched! Hey Roxie, I can’t wait to see your tits bounce and shake when you’re hanged naked!”
Roxanne
The time comes for my last walk. A constable unties the rope from the post and helps me from the platform and hands the rope around my neck to a nun that will lead me to the gallows but before I am led though the crowd the constable orders me to spread my legs. Thinking there is no point in drawing his wrath I obey. I gasp and squeal in pain as some massive thing is rammed into my bum with a smaller part into my slit!
Not only is it long and thick it must weigh more than two stones but the shape of it precludes any possibility of it slipping out or me being able to expel it! The constable slaps my buns and laughs “You don’t want to crap in front of the crowd while you hang. I think your friends were embarrassed when they did though they didn’t say anything! Take her away, sisters!”
I begin my death march and crowds line the narrow avenues as I take my last walk.
Again the vast majority of the crowd keeps their comments among themselves as if I am dumb animal being paraded past. Yes, I was naked with my lovers in the meadow but I am marched naked past men and women I don’t even know. As if it could not get worse, the closer I am to the town square there are more and more people I know. My heart says flee but my head says they have stripped me of any dignity but what is still within me!
There is a man and a woman with their daughter watching my progress. I am mortified as I recognize them as people who I had entertained at my home! Behind them a woman watches from the window of the brothel calls out “I’ll be damned, I wasn’t going to go to the hanging today but look who is getting her neck stretched! Hey Roxie, I can’t wait to see your tits bounce and shake when you’re hanged naked!”
Roxanne
The woman in the brothel is someone I would have nothing to do with feeling she was below me. She was always friendly but would not even acknowledge her. Soon she will be below me… as I swing above her from the rope. Her cold words are deserved. I have seen more than a few hanging and was always fascinated by the thrashing the condemned did as the strangled. Once, my husband had a business associate for dinner at our house. After A few hours and more than a few glasses of wine I asked him what had happened to his neck as he had a scar around it just below his jaw.
He told me that years back he was hanged in Persia for raping a powerful man’s daughter. He said he had not done so but they tied a rope around his neck and forced him onto a wagon. Before they pulled the wagon from beneath his feet they jerked his trousers down around his knees. He said he had an erection not because he was sexually aroused but from the adrenalin from the prospect of hanging by his neck until he died. I asked him if he did the ‘death dance’. Almost scolding me he said ‘It is not a dance, young lady! It is pure desperation and a struggle to escape the rope that is taking your life. If you are ever hanged you’ll do it too!’
‘But how did you survive?’ I asked. He told my husband paid a substantial amount of gold coin in retribution to the father. It had been a less than profitable trip and they still had made him hang for a quarter hour before signaling to cut him down. That night in my bed I rubbed my loins as I contemplated his words ‘If you are ever hanged…’
I did the same every night when some poor wench was hanged in the square while I watched. I still saw it as a dance every time. I am led through an arch and ahead of me is the square. All too soon I will find for myself if it is a dance or panic…
Roxanne
Tree wished to mention the last few illustrations are 'Tree original'.
He told me that years back he was hanged in Persia for raping a powerful man’s daughter. He said he had not done so but they tied a rope around his neck and forced him onto a wagon. Before they pulled the wagon from beneath his feet they jerked his trousers down around his knees. He said he had an erection not because he was sexually aroused but from the adrenalin from the prospect of hanging by his neck until he died. I asked him if he did the ‘death dance’. Almost scolding me he said ‘It is not a dance, young lady! It is pure desperation and a struggle to escape the rope that is taking your life. If you are ever hanged you’ll do it too!’
‘But how did you survive?’ I asked. He told my husband paid a substantial amount of gold coin in retribution to the father. It had been a less than profitable trip and they still had made him hang for a quarter hour before signaling to cut him down. That night in my bed I rubbed my loins as I contemplated his words ‘If you are ever hanged…’
I did the same every night when some poor wench was hanged in the square while I watched. I still saw it as a dance every time. I am led through an arch and ahead of me is the square. All too soon I will find for myself if it is a dance or panic…
Roxanne
Tree wished to mention the last few illustrations are 'Tree original'.
Kudos on the art
.... the style is unmistakable; someday will be worth big money as a "Tree original" and grace the wall of some fine collector, such as the Lord of Cruxton Abbey.
Nice plotting and writing too btw.
