TerriT
Assistant executioner
"Amy's cross is being raised now, and you can see her body slide down into its final position. All her weight will soon be pulling on her wrists and the two nails that hold her to the wood behind her. At this point, the agony of the nails will increase to their peak, as her weight will pull her wrists against the nails, causing them to separate the broken bones and drag against the nerves and tendons ... yes... you can hear her screams now."
Amy's chest was heaving, her stomach contracting in screams as her weight shifted and she hung from her wrists for the first time. She was instinctively trying to struggle, but it was impossible. The base of the cross was guided into a tight fitting hole that had been dug in the ground and slid down. Finally, the crane had pulled the cross completely upright and stopped, throwing Amy's body forward slightly, away from the cross, jerking it against the nails holding it to the wood. The camera zoomed into Amy's beautiful face, now twisted in agony.
The guards moved in and quickly poured a mixture of quick drying concrete into the hole. Ten minutes later the cable was released and the cross and Amy were free standing.
The crane moved over to Kyle and the process was repeated. Their was only one difference. As the cross ascended, the reporter saw something had been added.
"My audience will note that an odd protrusion has been added to the male victim's cross. It consists of a simple spike sticking out from the upright and up between Kyle's legs. This is called a sedile, and it must have been added because of Kyle's broken leg, which would make his suffering relatively short lived. The sedile will provide some support for his body, though not... oh..... look...."
Anna was at a loss for words as Kyle's cross reached the upright position and his body slid down, coming in contact with the sharpened sedile. The spike rammed upward into the male's genitals, piercing them. Blood flowed down the sedile and trickled slowly toward the ground.
"My god... I don't think we have seen any real blood in this whole.... yet.... oh..."
Kyle was obviously writhing and struggling in pain, trying to compensate for the tremendous agony in his wrists and shoulders, and the tearing pain in his groin. He managed to shove his body out, away from the cross, and the sedile slid back, raking a furrow between his legs. With no strength left, Kyle gave up and sank down and the spike sunk deeply into his anus. A camera zoomed in, showing the widening spike spreading the anus as Kyle's body sank down. Blood continued to poor down from his entire groin area and began to flood down from his distended rectum as the sedile penetrated deeply.
The reporter was silent, and left the screen. The sight of the torture of these two beautiful young people had overwhelmed her and she attempted to recover off screen.
----------
In the meantime, cameras showed a panorama of the final scene. The hill was now bare except for two crosses with two bodies hanging from them, silhouetted against the sky. There was some movement as Kyle and Amy breathed, moaned, cried out, struggled, sank down, and began the process again; but the movement was limited. There is little movement allowed on the cross. At one point Amy thrust her body out, away from the wood frame behind her, arching her back, trying to find comfort that was not to be found. The sight was obscene, for her spread legs and thrust hips clearly showed her pubic mound and genitals before she sank back. Her head hung down, hair falling against her shoulders and face.
Kyle continued to bleed. Cameras zoomed in and showed every aspect of his agony, from his twisted face to his contorted body muscles. The strain in his legs and arms was examined, the small trickles of blood from the wounds in his wrists were explored. The clenching of his ravaged sphincter against the violating sedile could be clearly seen. His broken leg prevented him from raising himself up, and he simply lay impaled.
The two victims had been crucified facing each other, so that they could observe each other's pain. This was considered part of their punishment, to see their loved one suffer and to understand and experience the same pain they felt.
TV coverage continued, showing cross sections of anatomy, which nerves had been severed, which bones broken. The diaphragm was explored, showing how breathing became more difficult, and Amy's stomach, chest and breasts were shown next to a diagram of the internal muscles, illustrating how her body was struggling.
The camera closed in to Amy's hands for a while, showing the claw like positioning of the fingers, reflecting the destroyed nerves in the wrists. Kyle's erection returned, larger than ever, harder than ever, and medical analysts speculated and proposed that this was due to the sedile pressing on the veins inside, preventing blood from leaving; others said it was because the prostate was being stimulated and predicted an eventual ejaculation. One expert even claimed it was because Kyle was aroused by the sight of Amy suffering before him.
Kyle died only two hours after being nailed to the cross. The job had been botched. The combination of the broken bone in his leg, and the blood loss from the sedile had caused massive shock. All attention refocused on Amy and her continuing struggles toward a death that escaped her, hour after hour.
-----------
Amy saw Kyle hanging about 15 feet away from her. He wasn't moving any more. The agony she experienced was not getting any better, it was spreading. She didn't understand why he wasn't moving, the agony commanded her body to keep struggling, even though it simply traded one type of searing pain for another. She pulled herself up, pulling on the nails that now seemed part of her body, trying to push with her legs as best she could, just to give some relief to her shoulders, arms and chest. A cameraman circled her as she did this, focusing the camera on her legs as she pushed and tensed the muscles.
She cried, but had no more tears. She sobbed, but had no breath. She called for mercy, but there was none. She sank down, exhausted, and the shattering agony in her ankles and legs was replaced by shattering agony in her wrists and back. She made noise, but it wasn't a scream any more, it was more of a rasping whimper. The cameraman found the spot between her legs interesting for a while and zoomed in on her shaking vaginal lips, then slowly panned the camera up her stomach to her breasts, partly covered by her hair which stuck to the sweaty flesh.
The sweat was from pain, not from heat. Evening had come on and the air was getting cold. Amy continued to live in pain, unable to move, observed in her agony by hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people.
---------
With a promise to return to live coverage if there were any developments in Amy's execution, the reporters signed off for the evening and returned to prime time programs. Amy didn't know it of course, the cameras were still positioned around her as she hung naked and exposed. Time proceeded slowly, minute by minute, the sun slowly descending on the horizon.
Tiny movements caused whole new worlds and heights of pain. Amy tugged, trying to get her wrist to slide forward with the idea that she might be able to pull off, out of the heavy nails. The pain was so bad it almost knocked her unconscious. She could feel the scraping texture of the nail against wrist bone. Losing strength, she sagged down on the cross, which made her legs spread a little further apart.
She was aware of the humiliation of her nakedness. Her genitalia were exposed, her breasts bobbing in plain view. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
Eventually dark came and she wondered if she would sleep. She was so, so tired. And thirsty. She had never been this thirsty, and she knew she must not drink for it would prolong her agony, and she realized she really did want to die. It was the only way out. Amy wanted to escape from the horrific pain at any cost. And then... someone raised something to her face.
She turned away at first, but then it was pushed against her face. It was wet. She turned her head to look at it between the ragged strands of her hair. A sponge, dripping. Her thirst overcame her and she reached her head out and sucked. The cool water felt so good, so lovely, wetting her lips, going down her raw throat, it was life saving....
Life prolonging. Agony prolonging. She had to die, quickly, for every moment with her arms spread out and the weight of her body driving the nails into her wrist bones, separating them, tearing flesh, was agony she had to escape. Flashes distracted her. Photographers, capturing her pain and humiliation. She stared at them sullenly, imagining that the image of her dirty, naked, agonized nudity would be preserved forever. It didn't matter. She wasn't going to be around...
--------
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please watch your steps going up the hill. There is loose gravel and we don't want any accidents!" The prison guard who was serving as tour guide led the group of 15 or so men and women up the hill to the top where the two crosses were silhouetted against the sunrise.
"As you know," said the guide to his small ensemble of dignitaries, "we lost the male victim early on. His body is there, and will remain there for several days. We are in the open so it won't cause too much smell at first, though I expect he will stink a bit by the time we bring him down. Now, over here we have the female..."
The group walked over to Amy and her cross. She was breathing in a rasping, strained manner. It was a lovely sight, her perfect body stretched out and exposed, breasts hanging free, rising and falling. Her hair hung down on either side of her head as it hung limply. Her knees were bent and spread slightly, and several of the men approached to have a better look.
"There is no blood. Or hardly any. Are you sure she will die from this?" One of the men was looking carefully at Amy's outstretched arms and claw-like hands. The metallic head of the nails were clearly visible protruding slightly from her wrists.
"Oh yes, there isn't supposed to be much bleeding. Death occurs from exposure, shock, dehydration, and suffocation. As strength is lost, the pressure from the body hanging from the arms like that, makes it very difficult to exhale. So... oh, there she goes!! Watch this!!" The guard excitedly observed Amy as she moved, struggled, the muscles in her bare legs straining to lift her body. Her arms tensed, and head raised up until she looked into the sky, her pretty young face visible clearly.
"Oh...." cried one of the touring women as the crowd watched as Amy struggled to raise herself up. The agony was clearly visible in her face and she began panting faster and grunting in pain as her body twisted and turned until it was higher on the cross. She tried to lock her knees but couldn't, gasped for several long, deep breaths, and then fell back down. The jolt as she reach the bottom and sagged against her stretched and torn arms caused her to let out a short scream.
(TBC)
Amy's chest was heaving, her stomach contracting in screams as her weight shifted and she hung from her wrists for the first time. She was instinctively trying to struggle, but it was impossible. The base of the cross was guided into a tight fitting hole that had been dug in the ground and slid down. Finally, the crane had pulled the cross completely upright and stopped, throwing Amy's body forward slightly, away from the cross, jerking it against the nails holding it to the wood. The camera zoomed into Amy's beautiful face, now twisted in agony.
The guards moved in and quickly poured a mixture of quick drying concrete into the hole. Ten minutes later the cable was released and the cross and Amy were free standing.
The crane moved over to Kyle and the process was repeated. Their was only one difference. As the cross ascended, the reporter saw something had been added.
"My audience will note that an odd protrusion has been added to the male victim's cross. It consists of a simple spike sticking out from the upright and up between Kyle's legs. This is called a sedile, and it must have been added because of Kyle's broken leg, which would make his suffering relatively short lived. The sedile will provide some support for his body, though not... oh..... look...."
Anna was at a loss for words as Kyle's cross reached the upright position and his body slid down, coming in contact with the sharpened sedile. The spike rammed upward into the male's genitals, piercing them. Blood flowed down the sedile and trickled slowly toward the ground.
"My god... I don't think we have seen any real blood in this whole.... yet.... oh..."
Kyle was obviously writhing and struggling in pain, trying to compensate for the tremendous agony in his wrists and shoulders, and the tearing pain in his groin. He managed to shove his body out, away from the cross, and the sedile slid back, raking a furrow between his legs. With no strength left, Kyle gave up and sank down and the spike sunk deeply into his anus. A camera zoomed in, showing the widening spike spreading the anus as Kyle's body sank down. Blood continued to poor down from his entire groin area and began to flood down from his distended rectum as the sedile penetrated deeply.
The reporter was silent, and left the screen. The sight of the torture of these two beautiful young people had overwhelmed her and she attempted to recover off screen.
----------
In the meantime, cameras showed a panorama of the final scene. The hill was now bare except for two crosses with two bodies hanging from them, silhouetted against the sky. There was some movement as Kyle and Amy breathed, moaned, cried out, struggled, sank down, and began the process again; but the movement was limited. There is little movement allowed on the cross. At one point Amy thrust her body out, away from the wood frame behind her, arching her back, trying to find comfort that was not to be found. The sight was obscene, for her spread legs and thrust hips clearly showed her pubic mound and genitals before she sank back. Her head hung down, hair falling against her shoulders and face.
Kyle continued to bleed. Cameras zoomed in and showed every aspect of his agony, from his twisted face to his contorted body muscles. The strain in his legs and arms was examined, the small trickles of blood from the wounds in his wrists were explored. The clenching of his ravaged sphincter against the violating sedile could be clearly seen. His broken leg prevented him from raising himself up, and he simply lay impaled.
The two victims had been crucified facing each other, so that they could observe each other's pain. This was considered part of their punishment, to see their loved one suffer and to understand and experience the same pain they felt.
TV coverage continued, showing cross sections of anatomy, which nerves had been severed, which bones broken. The diaphragm was explored, showing how breathing became more difficult, and Amy's stomach, chest and breasts were shown next to a diagram of the internal muscles, illustrating how her body was struggling.
The camera closed in to Amy's hands for a while, showing the claw like positioning of the fingers, reflecting the destroyed nerves in the wrists. Kyle's erection returned, larger than ever, harder than ever, and medical analysts speculated and proposed that this was due to the sedile pressing on the veins inside, preventing blood from leaving; others said it was because the prostate was being stimulated and predicted an eventual ejaculation. One expert even claimed it was because Kyle was aroused by the sight of Amy suffering before him.
Kyle died only two hours after being nailed to the cross. The job had been botched. The combination of the broken bone in his leg, and the blood loss from the sedile had caused massive shock. All attention refocused on Amy and her continuing struggles toward a death that escaped her, hour after hour.
-----------
Amy saw Kyle hanging about 15 feet away from her. He wasn't moving any more. The agony she experienced was not getting any better, it was spreading. She didn't understand why he wasn't moving, the agony commanded her body to keep struggling, even though it simply traded one type of searing pain for another. She pulled herself up, pulling on the nails that now seemed part of her body, trying to push with her legs as best she could, just to give some relief to her shoulders, arms and chest. A cameraman circled her as she did this, focusing the camera on her legs as she pushed and tensed the muscles.
She cried, but had no more tears. She sobbed, but had no breath. She called for mercy, but there was none. She sank down, exhausted, and the shattering agony in her ankles and legs was replaced by shattering agony in her wrists and back. She made noise, but it wasn't a scream any more, it was more of a rasping whimper. The cameraman found the spot between her legs interesting for a while and zoomed in on her shaking vaginal lips, then slowly panned the camera up her stomach to her breasts, partly covered by her hair which stuck to the sweaty flesh.
The sweat was from pain, not from heat. Evening had come on and the air was getting cold. Amy continued to live in pain, unable to move, observed in her agony by hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people.
---------
With a promise to return to live coverage if there were any developments in Amy's execution, the reporters signed off for the evening and returned to prime time programs. Amy didn't know it of course, the cameras were still positioned around her as she hung naked and exposed. Time proceeded slowly, minute by minute, the sun slowly descending on the horizon.
Tiny movements caused whole new worlds and heights of pain. Amy tugged, trying to get her wrist to slide forward with the idea that she might be able to pull off, out of the heavy nails. The pain was so bad it almost knocked her unconscious. She could feel the scraping texture of the nail against wrist bone. Losing strength, she sagged down on the cross, which made her legs spread a little further apart.
She was aware of the humiliation of her nakedness. Her genitalia were exposed, her breasts bobbing in plain view. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
Eventually dark came and she wondered if she would sleep. She was so, so tired. And thirsty. She had never been this thirsty, and she knew she must not drink for it would prolong her agony, and she realized she really did want to die. It was the only way out. Amy wanted to escape from the horrific pain at any cost. And then... someone raised something to her face.
She turned away at first, but then it was pushed against her face. It was wet. She turned her head to look at it between the ragged strands of her hair. A sponge, dripping. Her thirst overcame her and she reached her head out and sucked. The cool water felt so good, so lovely, wetting her lips, going down her raw throat, it was life saving....
Life prolonging. Agony prolonging. She had to die, quickly, for every moment with her arms spread out and the weight of her body driving the nails into her wrist bones, separating them, tearing flesh, was agony she had to escape. Flashes distracted her. Photographers, capturing her pain and humiliation. She stared at them sullenly, imagining that the image of her dirty, naked, agonized nudity would be preserved forever. It didn't matter. She wasn't going to be around...
--------
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please watch your steps going up the hill. There is loose gravel and we don't want any accidents!" The prison guard who was serving as tour guide led the group of 15 or so men and women up the hill to the top where the two crosses were silhouetted against the sunrise.
"As you know," said the guide to his small ensemble of dignitaries, "we lost the male victim early on. His body is there, and will remain there for several days. We are in the open so it won't cause too much smell at first, though I expect he will stink a bit by the time we bring him down. Now, over here we have the female..."
The group walked over to Amy and her cross. She was breathing in a rasping, strained manner. It was a lovely sight, her perfect body stretched out and exposed, breasts hanging free, rising and falling. Her hair hung down on either side of her head as it hung limply. Her knees were bent and spread slightly, and several of the men approached to have a better look.
"There is no blood. Or hardly any. Are you sure she will die from this?" One of the men was looking carefully at Amy's outstretched arms and claw-like hands. The metallic head of the nails were clearly visible protruding slightly from her wrists.
"Oh yes, there isn't supposed to be much bleeding. Death occurs from exposure, shock, dehydration, and suffocation. As strength is lost, the pressure from the body hanging from the arms like that, makes it very difficult to exhale. So... oh, there she goes!! Watch this!!" The guard excitedly observed Amy as she moved, struggled, the muscles in her bare legs straining to lift her body. Her arms tensed, and head raised up until she looked into the sky, her pretty young face visible clearly.
"Oh...." cried one of the touring women as the crowd watched as Amy struggled to raise herself up. The agony was clearly visible in her face and she began panting faster and grunting in pain as her body twisted and turned until it was higher on the cross. She tried to lock her knees but couldn't, gasped for several long, deep breaths, and then fell back down. The jolt as she reach the bottom and sagged against her stretched and torn arms caused her to let out a short scream.
(TBC)
