IgnikaMarcus
Governor
Her sentence was to be flogged to death.Crucify her !
Her sentence was to be flogged to death.Crucify her !
She could be crucified, before to be whipped.Her sentence was to be flogged to death.
"Gabriella Sivilla, you have been caught whoring countless times. Despite numerous warnings from the authorities you have continued to fornicate without any respect for our laws. Your relentless thirst for sex has led you here, to the ultimate punishment. You will be stripped naked in front of the people, who may jeer and mock you to your heart's desire. You will then be led to the soldiers' quarters for a "private" audience with the entire legion. The soldiers have been told they have free rein on your body. They can ravish you however and wherever they like. As long as they do not batter you too much, Regina Puttanorum?". They slap Sivilla's face. "How do you answer to this accusation, you whore?" @GabriellaSivilla
"Gabriella Sivilla, you have been caught whoring countless times. Despite numerous warnings from the authorities you have continued to fornicate without any respect for our laws. Your relentless thirst for sex has led you here, to the ultimate punishment. You will be stripped naked in front of the people, who may jeer and mock you to your heart's desire. You will then be led to the soldiers' quarters for a "private" audience with the entire legion. The soldiers have been told they have free rein on your body. They can ravish you however and wherever they like. As long as they do not batter you too much, Regina Puttanorum?". They slap Sivilla's face. "How do you answer to this accusation, you whore?" @GabriellaSivilla
And it begins. After the humiliating cock-suck and ass-fuck by the rough soldiers, the Queen (with her hair tied back to expose her back better) is fastened to a low stone pillar, where one sadistic soldier taunts her with the instruments of her torture, which will tear her flesh apart. The soldiers make fun of this self-appointed Queen Sivilla, knowing that this is one scourging no sane Roman soldier should miss @GabriellaSivilla
The Queen trembles in expectation and terror as she hears the captain of the guard issue the order for the scourging to begin. The soldier swings the flagellum with all his might towards her bare back and bruised buttocks... @GabriellaSivilla
After several more blows, the Queen is on her knees, babbling and moaning incoherently. The savage lictor flogs hers side but the bone-studded scourge embeds itself in the soft flesh....Queen Sivilla wails in agony as her ribs are exposed... @GabriellaSivilla
He’s a real bastard isn’t he?
Thank you for the vote of confidence, Wragg!
God, what a sexy description! Now this is worth cumming for! Anyone else want to torment our Queen?
Thank you for the vote of confidence, Wragg!
After a multitude of soldiers have had their rough ways with her, the Queen is untied from the table and placed on her 'throne', a cold and dusty stone bench in the courtyard. She shivers with the pain of the rape and the flogging, and her nipples are rock hard. The soldiers cry out, "She said she was a queen, surely she deserves to have a crown!". Scorpianus places a thorn-studded crown on Queen Sivilla's golden head. Gabriella utters a low moan of pain. Using sticks, two soldiers, @bigpenis and @morten sigurdson , push the crown deep in her scalp. The Queen cries out at this additional source of pain. The coronation of Gabriella Sivilla, Regina Puttanarum, has begun. @GabriellaSivilla
Barely able to stand, the Queen is brought forward to face her people. Like a tragic puppet she wears a crown and purple cape, which barely covers her nakedness. With a final sadistic touch, the soldiers compel her to show her titulus while they proudly exclaim "Ecce Donna! Behold Gabriella Sivilla, Regina Puttanarum!"
"What shall we do with your slutty Queen?" @GabriellaSivilla
OK, so all this hot and juicy influx of contributions to the thread inspired me to do one last quick sketch of our Regina Puttanarum. Last as in last of the Ecce Donna series, not, of course, last of the series...
The Queen's hands are tied with a token piece of rope. She does not offer much resistance as she is moved to a better part of the structure where more people can see her nakedness and humiliation. She bows her head in shame and resignation. Gabriella can hardly stand up and she is almost bent double. As the crowd continues to cry for her to be nailed up, crucified or raped some more, the governor raises the titulus high above his head, before loudly proclaiming, "Take her to Golgotha and crucify her!". The crowd goes nuts!! The Queen has some supporters, who immediately start a brawl with her most vocal antagonists.... @GabriellaSivilla
OK, so all this hot and juicy influx of contributions to the thread inspired me to do one last quick sketch of our Regina Puttanarum. Last as in last of the Ecce Donna series, not, of course, last of the series...
The Queen's hands are tied with a token piece of rope. She does not offer much resistance as she is moved to a better part of the structure where more people can see her nakedness and humiliation. She bows her head in shame and resignation. Gabriella can hardly stand up and she is almost bent double. As the crowd continues to cry for her to be nailed up, crucified or raped some more, the governor raises the titulus high above his head, before loudly proclaiming, "Take her to Golgotha and crucify her!". The crowd goes nuts!! The Queen has some supporters, who immediately start a brawl with her most vocal antagonists.... @GabriellaSivilla
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.
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.
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.
writing... gimme some time...