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Other Forms Of Execution

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This close to the summer solstice the nights are short and the days long. The women were exhausted yet it was still an hour before the ebb tide when the sun began to warm their backs and bake the sand. The sand not only heated their flesh but seemed to burn their bodies from the inside. The only relief from heat would be the midday tide that would take their lives. An entourage of regally dressed men and women walked down the beach to where the women were spending their last morning.

Margaret looked up and hoarsely said “Baron, my lord.”

Messa had lived her life never leaving the fiefdom but had never seen him before. Eul was a slave of his and didn’t even know he owned her much less having seen him. He cleared his throat and said “I have come to offer my thanks for your sacrifice, especially, you, Margaret. You have attended to my daughter well and will do so even in death. You see, she was to be where you are. Fortunately for her she became betrothed as they were announcing her selection so I offered you instead. She finally agreed to marry the man who has pestered me for her hand since she became a woman. I’m certain she and de Sade will live a happy life and remember you fondly. We will watch from the top of the dunes.”

“A slave, a peasant, and a substitute; you just might piss off your sea gods with an offering like that” Eulalia shouted as he and the others walked away. Then she said “I don’t even believe there are sea gods.”

By mid-morning the women were thoroughly baked by the sun and the hot sand. They were dehydrated and exhausted. Their throats were too dry and tongues to swollen to even bother trying to talk. They stared out at the waves that came ever closer as the mid-day tide approached. The first wave that reached them seemed relieving but soon the saltwater burned the thousand tiny cuts and scratches the sand had slice into their skin. The wetter the sand became the torture of night’s tide returned. In their weakened state breathing became work. The wet slurry again invaded their bodies. Margaret hissed “Just let me die.”

A wave washed around their torsos and as it receded Messaline said “It won’t be long now…”


ss1 4.jpg

tree
 
With tides this high the waves usually smooth out as they spread over the gentle sloop of the beaches. But as the three women began to struggle to hold their faces out of the surf the skies darkened and the sea grew angry. Rain and lightning pelted the beach and the village behind it. When the tide receded there were only three divots in the sand where the women had been. It would rain nonstop for a score of days. Crops were wiped out and the Baron’s mansion ruined by fire. His daughter did marry the young de Sade… it didn’t go well.

Perhaps the sea gods were angry…
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tree
fin
 
this one for sure800px-DSC00363_-_Mosaico_delle_stagioni_(epoca_romana)_-_Foto_G._Dall'Orto.jpg
 
Another tht classic -​
great as ever, all my thanks!​
flower1
Any chance of a pdf for the Archive, Hansi?​
 
Another tht classic -​
great as ever, all my thanks!​
flower1
Any chance of a pdf for the Archive, Hansi?​

;)perhaps..........................
 
Thanks all. I'll finish the other two but as a present I've been working on a third story so that when I start posting it it will not drag out for months at a time....

T
 
a one off for Eulalia, she likes this kind of thing, I hear
View attachment 40556

with love

tree
mmm! hanging on to a Tree, feeling the roughness against my skin, knowing there's no escape ....​
(mind you, she reminds me of someone we know and love ;)!)​
 
But there's one thing makes me uneasy about that picture -​
it does also remind me of Margaret Thatcher!​
:eek::eek::eek:
am I the only one to think that?​
 
But there's one thing makes me uneasy about that picture -​
it does also remind me of Margaret Thatcher!​
:eek::eek::eek:
am I the only one to think that?​
who the hell is Margaret Thatcher? Or mean you that iron lady some years ago? She must be punished in a severe way by all good brittish :D people
 
But there's one thing makes me uneasy about that picture -​
it does also remind me of Margaret Thatcher!​
:eek::eek::eek:
am I the only one to think that?​
I thought she looked a bit like Cindy Laupner

Tree
 
who the hell is Margaret Thatcher? Or mean you that iron lady some years ago? She must be punished in a severe way by all good brittish :D people
when a wis wee, a wis feart that if a wisnae guid,​
a'd be humphed awa bi Maggie the Snatcher in her handpoke!​
(when I was little, I was afraid that, if I wasn't good, I'd be carried off by Maggie the Snatcher in her handbag!)
 
I'm glad you translated your dialect (scottish?);)
 
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