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Sketches by scorpio

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The Queen painfully carries her cross on her way to Golgotha. Many in the crowd are filled with hatred while others are filled with lust. The scarlet cloak does little to hide the terrible weals and gashes on her body, but the sight of her mostly intact bouncing breasts and her inflamed pussy is enough to arouse some of the men in the crowd. Her back is on fire, and the beam constantly hits the crown, sending spasms of pain radiating to her brain. Her bare feet ache as she staggers over the gravel laden street. The crowd starts a chant, "Here is Gabriella Sivilla, the Naked Queen!". One elderly gets close enough to spit in her face and cry "You Royal Whore!"...the utter humiliation makes her stop... but a rough prod from Scorpianus's spear in her back soon sets her plodding again.... @GabriellaSivilla
 

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Gabriella Sivilla steps forward. Slowly. Painfully. Staggering. Her gaze mostly fixed on her bared feet, trying not to loose her balance and get her face on the ground.

As the gate opens and she gets in the narrow street outside the first assault on her sense comes from the shouts from the crowd waiting for her, which now mix with the orders barked by the guards behind her telling her not to stop and to move on. Each step is a torture by itself. The weight of the heavy beam on her shoulders compelling her almost to bend over. The rough wood scraping her skin and touching again and again her crown of thorns, each time sending flashes of agony in her arms and head. The bare fact of moving, painfully opening the deep wounds in her back. For Gabriella just breathing is agony, as the gashes in her side, caused by the bone-studded thongs of the scourge which have digged deep in her living flesh (see posts #261 and #264), stretch each time she inhales.

But she keeps on moving, step by step, between two wings of crowd, offering herself for her gruesome torment, hoping that this will keep her people safe. Every step is a flood of crashing emotions, at hearing how they hate her, at how they feel free to insult her in the most terrible ways, shouting out all the evil they have inside. And at how all this is so overtly sexual, the lust so clear in their eyes, the insults referring to her tits, pussy and ass, and to what the guards have done to her and what they would do if allowed.

The red cloack does not hidden much, and just makes her walking more difficult, wrapping around her hips and legs. As she proceeds in the street, the guards mock her and from time to time let somebody from the mob get close so they can shout in her face or can touch her. This is the most odious thing, being touched by this mob, hands squeezing her tits, groping her rounded buttocks, reaching between her long legs, slapping her beautiful face. Total strangers getting so much liberties on her body.

As an old man spits on her face she is startled, and stops for a moment. Scopianus seizes the oppurtunity and with the wooden butt of her spear roughly prods her in her back, taking care to press and scracth of one of the deep welts in her back where the scourge has chopped off a little piece of her flesh. Gabriella howls from undearable pain "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" slightly arching her back under the heavy burden and tossing her head back, bumping it against the beam and driving the thorns of the crowd deeper. "aaaAAAAAHHHHH aaaaAAHHHH" she howls again, desperate.

They laughs, happy to have let her suffer. Still blind from pain, she gathers all her strength and makes another step. Her way to the cross has just began.
 
GabriellaSivilla said:
Gabriella Sivilla steps forward. Slowly. Painfully. Staggering. Her gaze mostly fixed on her bared feet, trying not to loose her balance and get her face on the ground.

As the gate opens and she gets in the narrow street outside the first assault on her sense comes from the shouts from the crowd waiting for her, which now mix with the orders barked by the guards behind her telling her not to stop and to move on. Each step is a torture by itself. The weight of the heavy beam on her shoulders compelling her almost to bend over. The rough wood scraping her skin and touching again and again her crown of thorns, each time sending flashes of agony in her arms and head. The bare fact of moving, painfully opening the deep wounds in her back. For Gabriella just breathing is agony, as the gashes in her side, caused by the bone-studded thongs of the scourge which have digged deep in her living flesh (see posts #261 and #264), stretch each time she inhales.

But she keeps on moving, step by step, between two wings of crowd, offering herself for her gruesome torment, hoping that this will keep her people safe. Every step is a flood of crashing emotions, at hearing how they hate her, at how they feel free to insult her in the most terrible ways, shouting out all the evil they have inside. And at how all this is so overtly sexual, the lust so clear in their eyes, the insults referring to her tits, pussy and ass, and to what the guards have done to her and what they would do if allowed.

The red cloack does not hidden much, and just makes her walking more difficult, wrapping around her hips and legs. As she proceeds in the street, the guards mock her and from time to time let somebody from the mob get close so they can shout in her face or can touch her. This is the most odious thing, being touched by this mob, hands squeezing her tits, groping her rounded buttocks, reaching between her long legs, slapping her beautiful face. Total strangers getting so much liberties on her body.

As an old man spits on her face she is startled, and stops for a moment. Scopianus seizes the oppurtunity and with the wooden butt of her spear roughly prods her in her back, taking care to press and scracth of one of the deep welts in her back where the scourge has chopped off a little piece of her flesh. Gabriella howls from undearable pain "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" slightly arching her back under the heavy burden and tossing her head back, bumping it against the beam and driving the thorns of the crowd deeper. "aaaAAAAAHHHHH aaaaAAHHHH" she howls again, desperate.

They laughs, happy to have let her suffer. Still blind from pain, she gathers all her strength and makes another step. Her way to the cross has just began.
Click to expand...
This is turning out to be an epic, Gabriella! Your suffering is turning the crowd (us) very much ON
 
I prod the Queen forward with the blunt end of my spear. I make sure that I press her where it hurts- in one of the many scourge marks on her back. I am excited by her cries of pain and encourage the crowd to insult their “Queen”. I move close to her and cup her hanging breast with my hand. Then I squeeze and twist her erect nipples. I pull her by her tits to get her moving....
 
It's so hard to see such a beautiful woman to suffer like that! I remenber the nights she granted me the privilege of caressing her silky skin...and now it has been ripped by the whip!
I love her. I am so sorry for her!
Perhaps it will be better to end up crucified next to her. Sharing with her the torture and death. Offering to her the view of my naked body as consolation. Showing her my ragging erection as a tribute to her beauty...
But no. Today is only her majesty who is going to the cross.
And to my shame I still get excited by her tortured body and the prospect of seeing her nailed naked up on her cross...
 
carloscruz said:
It's so hard to see such a beautiful woman to suffer like that! I remenber the nights she granted me the privilege of caressing her silky skin...and now it has been ripped by the whip!
I love her. I am so sorry for her!
Perhaps it will be better to end up crucified next to her. Sharing with her the torture and death. Offering to her the view of my naked body as consolation. Showing her my ragging erection as a tribute to her beauty...
But no. Today is only her majesty who is going to the cross.
And to my shame I still get excited by her tortured body and the prospect of seeing her nailed naked up on her cross...
Click to expand...
I see you staring at the Queen as she slowly makes her way through the dusty streets. “Hey you!”, “Yes, you” You look at me with scared eyes as I point my spear at you. “Do you want to join her on Golgotha?” “Are you one of her filthy rebel friends?”
 
jimsac said:
I see you staring at the Queen as she slowly makes her way through the dusty streets. “Hey you!”, “Yes, you” You look at me with scared eyes as I point my spear at you. “Do you want to join her on Golgotha?” “Are you one of her filthy rebel friends?”
Click to expand...
During a long instant I am tempted to say yes. If I knew that my execution would give her some kind of relief or pleasure, I am ready to go with my loved Queen and take my own cross.
Somehow it will be easier to join her than to see her crucified alone...
But I don’t really know if she prefers to face her cross alone or if she wants me crucified next to her.
So I hesitate...
 
… people around are looking at me with reluctance … my temporary courage disappears …
…
I bowed my head down to not to look at them … I moved away, wanting to escape this crowd, I pushed between people, but the uproar was raised ... and I looked where everyone was ...
… the gate opened and there was the procession ! – first the soldier with big titulus Gabriella Sivilla Regina Puttanarum … again I read this inscription blushing on my cheeks and staring at the Queen who she was walking ... barely walking ... behind them ..
Oh all Gods, how she suffers! How terribly sore she is … how bloodied is her body… I never thought I would see such a sight. I feel so sorry for her … I should go away ! oh how she suffers … the beast who did it all to her … her poor body … body … I should go away but I’m looking as teenager-boy …
She walks next to me … I’m in first line in this crowd which moved me here …
I’m looking with open mouth as aroused teenager at her … at this so splendid, splendid! body of her … the sight of her mostly intact bouncing breasts, ..the outline of her hips, thighs ... legs … oh Gods … her nipples are erect …
I could see the nakedness of a woman so rarely, and I am young ... I still dream of them ... and she is so beautiful despite these wounds ... blood ... A soldier cups her hanging breast with hi hand, then slap it … is pulling her by her tits to get her moving … the pig ! Leave her !
But it is only in my mind … only a whisper in my mouth … and I’m aroused …
I don’t want it … but … I clench my thighs and I’m bending to hide my growing against my will my arousal …
…
 
I'm going with this crowd ... together, all of them ...
pushed ... among the shouting ... still in the first row ...
I see her cut, bloody back with a flog ... just in front of me ...
.. where are people of the Queen ?! … her soldiers … her guard ? …will nobody rescue her ?
Will nobody help her ?! .. this beam on her arms is too heavy for her .. for each of women! …
And this pig again pushes his spear in her back .. I see she stumbles … “Leave her!”- I'm calling ... and I'm silent, scared by my own voice ... no one heard this in the loud crowd anyway ...
.. I do not want to go any further … look at what will happen next ... it's good that nobody took notice of what I just called ...
 
I follow her without loosing her sight. I want to see her body. I lust for her and seeing her being led to her execution excites me. I can't help it! I am a dirty pig!
I try to imagine what her feelings could be now. Knowing that she is going to be nailed to the wood in a few minutes. Her fear, her humilliation...I wonder if she feels any shred of arousal?
I keep walking behing her looking at her superb bum...
 
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