If I were not so terribly dehydrated there would be fresh tears stinging my eyes
I'm helpless, helpless to protect myself let alone my daughter from the Romans who view us as their slaves, whores, and fucktoys, no less than that, meat, carrion to feed the crows with.
A few days entertainment for the rabble, as well as a warning that rebellion by the lower orders won't be tolerated.
I want to hold my daughter, want to protect her...but I know her, all too well. Without a doubt she is getting wet, I can see her nipples harden, see her wicked eyes glancing at me, feel her plotting the next sharp hurtful stab at my heart...
Hell, it wouldn't surprise me if that girl wanted to be crucified just to ensure she could poke, prod, taunt, and tease her mother until the very moment of her death, in all the worst ways.
She too would die, which would break me. I would watch her suffer while experiencing the full torment of rape, scourging, being paraded through town on a leash carrying my heavy patibulum on my bruised and bleeding shoulders, in front of the gawking spitting crowds, then the savage attack on my body as I am crucified.
She would drink it all in, deviously laughing within if not aloud at her mother's utter humiliation and degradation!