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"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

If you allow me, I have allowed myself to make a short introduction that links to the story. Let's see what you think.

GABRIELLA, THE REBEL QUEEN OF Ilyria.

Ilyria, year 107 B.C.

The kingdom of Ilyria, once independent, is now under the Roman yoke. The days of the brave Queen Teuta are long gone. And as had been evident in other parts conquered to Rome, the abuse of power of some Roman governors, soon generated in unrest among the conquered, and soon after in rebellion. Causta, a direct descendant of the royal house of Teuta, takes command of the rebels and proclaims himself king of Ilyria, fleeing to the mountains and thereafter a nightmare for the Romans.
The initial successes of the Causta rebels soon cause many Illyrian slaves to abandon their masters and join the rebels.
The Romans set various traps to catch the rebel, but all fail. This causes Macedonian and also Greek slaves to join the rebellion. This is how the exploits of the rebel Causta reach the Italic peninsula and a young woman named Gabriella, Iliria by birth and slave of a Roman patrician, manages to flee to Iliria crossing the Adriatic.
Gabriella was a young woman of fragile appearance, but with a strong determination. Thin, she was 20 years old and she was no longer a virgin; for at the age of eighteen he had known love in a young slave of his tribe, who shortly afterwards had perished at Roman hands when trying to escape, since the young man had killed a Roman in his attempt. She had been respected by her master until then. But two days before her boyfriend's escape attempt, the oldest son of the Roman master had arrived at the hacienda. Cayo Macrino, that was his name, raped the slave Gabriella repeatedly, and that caused the slave Telos, who was called the young man, to stab Macrino. Later he fled, but in the flight he was shot by the Roman soldiers.
United, once again to her people the Illyrians, the young woman soon showed signs of great bravery. The Causta leader fell in love with her and proclaimed her his queen and companion.
But seven months after fighting together and meeting, the Causta leader dies in a brutal ambush prepared by the Romans, but Gabriella manages to escape and continue the fight for a few more months.
The fights, skirmishes and ambushes were happening this time with more ferocity than before. And one fateful day, exhausted, tired and unprepared, the result of a recent combat, was captured by the Roman enemies.
This time, it was already evident that the rebellion had come to an end.
The young woman was stripped of her small leather armor and her other accessories, chained to her wrists, and both feet to prevent a leak, but the officers prevented total nudity and left her alone with her already worn out short tunic worn by use. . They just wanted that when they started enjoying her body they did it from the beginning, and it was always more enjoyment to rip and tear a woman's clothes off themselves.
The governor had decided to make an example with the girl there in Ilyria, and not take her to Rome, and that this example should be such as to prevent future rebellions.
It was also appreciated that despite her situation, the young Gabriella kept her defiant gaze and her pride. Still chained, she showed herself with great dignity. Many Romans made sinister smiles, for soon they would break the girl, and it would only be a bloody wink asking for mercy.
She was locked up one day in a miserable cell, and the next day they took her out of there.
His plea was ready to start.

"Look here the queen whore of the Illyrians arrives! Because surely she has shot many of her own, ha ha ha ha ha!" Exclaimed a Roman soldier mocking.

"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
 
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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

Soldiers scoff at this self-styled Queen Sivilla, knowing that this is a flogging that no sound Roman soldier should endure, and was only reserved for very serious crimes. They do not know if a thin girl of twenty springs will endure the wild flogging, and for that reason they give her a very bitter concoction. Some kind of liquid to resist what they were going to do to him.
 
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

The flogging of the young woman was going to be brutal, since she was going to be flogged by two soldiers with separate flails of various tails.
The governor looked at the young woman, who despite what she had already endured, still remained dignified. She was a brave girl, but in her eyes there was already a halo of terror, at what they were going to do to her. The governor thought it would be a shame to destroy such a charming body, but she was a fucking rebellious queen.
 
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

Some soldiers, and even the governor himself, are impressed by that savagery, and they closed their eyes, but she had to pay for her rebellion and they had to set an example with her. For this reason, the flogging was carried out inside the barracks, but with the assistance of some illy public so that they could see what happened to those who rebelled against Rome. Then, when they led her to her death on the cross, the soldiers would have to double their efforts to contain the girl's people.
 
Thank you for the vote of confidence, Wragg!

You guys are beasts ... leave me alone ... please! –Said the young woman weakly, when she saw among the mists of pain a legionnaire with his penis fully erect ready to enjoy her.
She was brutally raped repeatedly and filled with semen from those heartless.
The commander of the Roman garrison, Cayo Sulpio, asked that she be released from her position in which she had suffered the rapes. He then asked that she be suspended hanging naked from a pulley in the courtyard. Later, his thin legs were separated, and so well extended they were tied to stakes that they previously nailed to the ground. Her pussy and sex organs were now well exposed for more rapes. However, only Cayo Sulpicio penetrated her brutally.
The governor, who had observed this, could not yield to his own wishes. Also, at some point during her brutal flogging, his hand had dropped to her crotch. Now, fully aroused and with his very stiff penis he also got what he wanted from the body of the young queen.
-Roman bastards! She said in a fleeting outburst of bravery and writhing in her bonds, as the governor penetrated her again and again.
 
God, what a sexy description! Now this is worth cumming for! Anyone else want to torment our Queen?

A variation of the story would be:

They spit on her beautiful face, slapped her smooth but not too round buttocks, and every movement for her awakens the blinding agony of the deep welts on her back, like a cloak of torment and agony. Her sides have been flogged deeply, somewhere even the bones could be sensed, where the brutal lashes had ripped off bits of meat and streams of blood trickled down her skinny long legs. "pppllleeeeeeaaaaase, let me go."

The rapes, and the scourging he had suffered, were appalling.
The governor told himself again that she would be a very good slave to him. To fuck her as many times as necessary, but she had to die.
 
Thank you for the vote of confidence, Wragg!

The young woman is untied from the pulleys and the stakes of her feet. She falls to the ground dejected, full of semen and bloody.
Two soldiers lift her up in front of the governor. He punches her in the belly, bending her, and his soldiers release her and she falls again. They raise it again. She does something the governor doesn't expect in the broken girl. She suddenly lifts her head from his chest and spits the governor in the face. But he doesn't hit her again. He just smiles evilly and says:

"Perhaps before nailing her to the cross, we will also torture her breasts with red-hot needles! I'll think about it!" Go on with the punishment!
 
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

I imagine the poor naked girl, her back turned into a bloody sea, raped, humiliated and beaten. It excites me to think about it.
 
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

Silence fell among the crowd. Those who had attended her flogging had already spread the news about the treatment of the young queen. But the legionaries had already required reinforcements from other garrisons in the face of a possible armed revolt. They had also threatened to harm the Illyrian families who raised their weapons against the Romans. Still what they saw impressed them.

A formerly brave, proud, and determined young woman, and a fighter like few others, now appeared before them turned into a crying female human spoil, who had been savagely flogged, raped, beaten, humiliated, and crowned with a terrible crown of thorns that bloodied the face.

The soldiers removed the threadbare robe from the young woman and forced her to turn around on herself. Everyone saw the traces of the brutal flogging, the blows and bruises, the semen on his body and the blood from his wounds.

Some of the Roman legionaries guarding the crowd suddenly laughed, as moisture had appeared between some of their assistants between their crotches. And their penises were highlighted. They were excited by that vision. The Illyrians looked down in shame.
 
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

Then, the governor yells at the crowd:

"This is your queen people of Illyria! She will die for having rebelled against Rome! You have already been warned that it will happen to your families if you make an attempt to free this whore! And tomorrow I will crucify twenty of you without distinction of age or sex, if you do not reveal the hiding places of the other rebels. So every day until you do! However, if you do, only this fucking queen will pay….!

-No Please! –Exclaimed the young queen, leaving everyone a little surprised, who did not expect a reaction from the dejected queen.- -I begged you not to do any harm to these people! They rebelled against Rome, you already have me. Do with me what you want, since I'm going to die anyway, but forgive my people! Send a message with one of these spectators spreading my order through the mountains, the last order I am going to give, to surrender in exchange for not suffering Roman retaliation. And they will not be touched!

"You fucking bitch! You still dare to impose conditions! And according to you, the Romans have no honor! However, I am going to comply with what you have told me, but in return…!"
The governor looked at the pleading girl. His spirit was broken, but even so, even with the torture he suffered, he found it beautiful and exciting. Then the governor came up with an idea. He smiled ominously.

"Today I feel magnanimous people of Ilyria! I will do nothing against you, but now Gabriella your fucking queen will be tortured doubly before her final torment; then she will be crucified! The crucifixion will be postponed for two more days, but she will pay the delay! The governor shouted.

TO BE CONTINUED
 
The next day, the Romans built a wooden platform in the square of the capital of Ilyria. A cross with blades was mounted on it. The Romans forced all the people they could to contemplate the punishment of Queen Gabriella. Among the crowd was now a young man named Yaros, who had fought alongside his queen, and who had left the mountains, for he sensed that his fight now had no hope of success.

Yaros was halfway to the plaza, but as he was tall he saw the platform well.

The Romans arrived with their prisoner. Yaros stared in horror at what had been done to her. His whole back was raw from a severe flogging. He had practically no hollow of healthy skin left on his back without being marked by the scourges or pieces of bone that had shattered his formerly smooth back. He also had signs of multiple rapes, bumps and bruises. His head was free of the crown of thorns, but the young man sensed that he had been through that humiliation. Totally naked she could hardly walk. Its chains had been replaced by thick ropes.

She was untied, only to re-tie her to the cross in blades. A Roman soldier showed an instrument that he took out from one side of the scaffold. A rough wooden penis surrounded the entire outline with small sharp pieces of iron.

The crowd emitted a deep Ohhhhh !, and then the soldier put that spiked penis into the girl's pussy. Her scream was horrible.

The blood from the young girl's pussy leaped and dripped onto the floor of the platform. Young Yaros was horrified to see that. Afterwards, the soldier put a piece of cloth in a bucket soaked in salt water, and passed it to the young woman for her damaged sexual organ. She screamed horribly again and passed out.

-We don't want that wound to get infected, right bitch ?, ha ha ha! The soldier scoffed.
TO BE CONTINUED
 
The young woman was freed from the cross on blades and caught between two soldiers, she was returned to her cell in the barracks. Chained to the wall with her arms raised and her legs spread, she was raped again by two or three Roman soldiers. But this time the pain was double, from the wounds caused by the spiked penis.

The next day, in the morning, Gabriella was led back to the plaza. The cross blade had retreated, and now there was a vertical pole with a pulley at the end of a small horizontal log on top of the main one.

They tied the unfortunate young queen to the rope of the pulley and suspended her stretching her slim body showing the signs of torture. Her ankles were not tied, because they wanted her to writhe in pain and shake her precious anatomy, although despite the abuse it was still desirable.

A Roman soldier with a leather strap stood behind the girl, and another in front with the same instrument. She was flogged with them.

Young Gabriella screamed at the blows. Those bumps would leave her with pinkish welts but they wouldn't cut her skin. And if she weren't crucified the next day those welts would disappear over time.

Yaros, present of nine in the plaza, wondered why so much cruelty with a poor thin girl.

Meanwhile, the governor watched the torture of the girl with pleasure. He had decided to fulfill what was agreed with the young woman, but not out of pity, but because he had never felt so much pleasure fucking a woman and also seeing how she was tortured. She deserved that he keep that covenant.

When the soldiers finished lashing her with the straps, she was released again and her hands tied in front. A circle of seven legionaries formed around her. She was slapped again.

Yaros cried seeing how that girl with whom he had shared adventures and fatigue, had no hope of salvation, was treated wildly, and finally they would kill her in the most cruel instrument of torture devised by man: the cross.

After a few minutes clapping her hands, she was suspended from the pulley again. A soldier took a container filled with the liquid that increased resistance to the victims, or a restorative and forced her to drink it.

Then one of the soldiers brandished an iron bar. She moaned and watched in fear as the brute prepared to hit her with the bar. It was inevitable. The bar hit her painfully and she screamed.

He received three more blows, but always in non-vital parts and in parts where any damage did not shorten his later agony on the cross. Then the Governor himself lashed her with a long leather whip, reopening her back wounds. But it only gave him seven lashes. Then they opened the young woman's legs, tied them to the ground again, and the governor himself raped her in front of the public.

Finally, the young woman was released and returned to her cell.

The next day, it was to be his crucifixion.
 
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

When they took it out in the morning, they put back the threadbare red cloak and terrible crown of thorns.
 
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.

A variation:
The governor on his horse led the procession with the condemned rebel. He saw those hanging breasts. He thought he should have ordered her to be flogged in front of his body as well, but they could possibly have killed her. The governor would masturbate that night just thinking about it.
 
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.

A variant for insert:

The young Yaros follows the procession among the lines of spectators, totally frightened now when he sees closer the brutality with which he had been flogged. The governor's recent lashes were even more noticeable than the others, but blood was coming from all of them. It must have been horrible for her to endure all this.
 
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.

The young Yaros has managed to have a small clay container with pure water poured from a nearby fountain, and he does not know how he is now in the front row a little ahead of the profession.
The governor, from his saddle, saw the young man with the water in the front row and guessed his intentions. And he never knew why he allowed the prisoner to approach. Perhaps, he thought that when she stopped exhausted kneeling with his load it was an exciting spectacle.
Four or five sips of water the girl drank before the governor himself gave the container a little kick. That was what the governor was going to allow him to drink.
-Thanks, ... Yaros. She said in a faint voice. He looked Yaros in the eye. She had recognized him. The soldiers separated the young man, and the procession continued on its way.
 
writing... gimme some time... :)

Yes, indeed, and in the end Yaros was in love with her. So thought the tearful boy as he watched the sinister preparations to painfully kill his love, even though she was in love with the rebel leader. Many of the Illyrians were already leaving the place; for they refused to contemplate the savagery committed against their queen. The governor had allowed to leave the place, but there were enough people left to tell what was happening to the defiant rebels in Rome. Yaros saw that not many people left Golgota. They were trapped by a strange fascination of seeing a pretty young woman crucified, despite the fact that she had sacrificed herself for them.
 
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