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Some Sketches
- Thread starter Andyman
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It would be nice to have a cartoon sequence where the victim is stripped before the execution, and she is very ashamed to expose her huge breasts to the crowd of strangers. As well as when she is nailed and cannot cover herself because her arms are locked on the cross.
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It would be nice to have a cartoon sequence where the victim is stripped before the execution and is very ashamed to expose her huge breasts to the crowd of strangers. Just like when she is nailed and cannot cover herself because her arms are stuck on the cross.
Andyman
Senator
Athena and Elena
Two sisters lived in a village of olive-makers.
One of them was guilty and one of them not but they both fervently denied that they were responsible for the death of an olive oil merchant who spent the night in their house. Both were therefore convicted and had been sentenced to the same punishment.
Athena reconciled with her fate, she did not fight when she was exposed and raped. Her weaker organism did not resist and Athena did not endure the terrible torture on the cross for long. After several hours of the cross dance, she lost consciousness and before evening the ravens began their feast on her naked corpse...
TBC
Two sisters lived in a village of olive-makers.
One of them was guilty and one of them not but they both fervently denied that they were responsible for the death of an olive oil merchant who spent the night in their house. Both were therefore convicted and had been sentenced to the same punishment.
Athena reconciled with her fate, she did not fight when she was exposed and raped. Her weaker organism did not resist and Athena did not endure the terrible torture on the cross for long. After several hours of the cross dance, she lost consciousness and before evening the ravens began their feast on her naked corpse...
TBC
Andyman
Senator
Athena and Elena
Her sister Elena was far more energetic. She fight with all her strength, she cried loudly, cursed her fate and her tormentors and screamed when nailed and hanged. She was struggling and screaming for help even as she was hanging over the heads of the onlookers, as if she believed she would be able to escape from the cross, much to the crowd's delight.
She danced on her cross, screamed, cried and twisted her face in a grimace of immense suffering much more intensely than her sluggish sister. She also endured much longer than her sister did. She was able to watch from her cross how the birds gnawed Athena's corpse down to the bare skeleton. She understood that it would be her fate as well and she was going crazy just thinking about it, whimpering and sobbing for mercy. But at noon she too fell silent. She could no longer endure the prolonged agony and the heat of the exceptionally hot day and she she stopped breathing at about one o'clock. But even before she had stopped breathing, tossing and twitching, the same ravens began their feast, pecking out her eyes and massacring her face and hands, and the following evening only two naked skeletons of two crucified women adorned the execution hill.
Much later it turned out that both sisters were innocent. Someone else had killed the olive oil merchant. But this discovery could not help Athena and Elena whose bones, thrown from the crosses were dragged by dogs all over the area. And no one felt particularly devastated by this miscarriage of justice - oh well, it happens.
***
Her sister Elena was far more energetic. She fight with all her strength, she cried loudly, cursed her fate and her tormentors and screamed when nailed and hanged. She was struggling and screaming for help even as she was hanging over the heads of the onlookers, as if she believed she would be able to escape from the cross, much to the crowd's delight.
She danced on her cross, screamed, cried and twisted her face in a grimace of immense suffering much more intensely than her sluggish sister. She also endured much longer than her sister did. She was able to watch from her cross how the birds gnawed Athena's corpse down to the bare skeleton. She understood that it would be her fate as well and she was going crazy just thinking about it, whimpering and sobbing for mercy. But at noon she too fell silent. She could no longer endure the prolonged agony and the heat of the exceptionally hot day and she she stopped breathing at about one o'clock. But even before she had stopped breathing, tossing and twitching, the same ravens began their feast, pecking out her eyes and massacring her face and hands, and the following evening only two naked skeletons of two crucified women adorned the execution hill.
Much later it turned out that both sisters were innocent. Someone else had killed the olive oil merchant. But this discovery could not help Athena and Elena whose bones, thrown from the crosses were dragged by dogs all over the area. And no one felt particularly devastated by this miscarriage of justice - oh well, it happens.
***
This is why you should always have a fair trial before you crucify someone...
Did the women at least give a good show?!?!?!
Andyman
Senator
I hope so
Hangnail
Tribune
Your story is great, I couldn't resist customizing it just a little...
Athena and Elena
Two sisters lived in a village of olive farmers. They ran a boarding house, and one morning an olive oil merchant who spent the night in their house was found dead in his bed, apparently poisoned.
The magistrate realized that probably only one of them was guilty. They both fervently denied that they were responsible, but later the same day both were convicted and sentenced to the same punishment.
The next day at dawn they were brought out to the execution field.
Athena reconciled herself to her fate. She did not fight when she was stripped and raped. Thanks to her weaker frame she did not endure the terrible torture of the cross for long. After several hours of squirming and moaning she lost consciousness and before noon the ravens began their feast on her naked corpse.
Her sister Elena was far more energetic. She fought with all her strength. She cried loudly, and cursed her fate and her tormentors when she was nailed and raised. She went on struggling and screaming for help even as she was hanging over the heads of the onlookers, as if she believed she could fight her way off the cross, much to the crowd's delight.
She writhed on her cross, cursed, cried, and twisted her face in a grimace of immense suffering much more intensely than her sluggish sister. She also endured much longer than her sister did. She was able to watch from her cross how the birds began gnawing Athena's corpse down to the bare skeleton. She understood that it would be her fate as well and she was going crazy just thinking about it.
By late afternoon, defeated by the prolonged agony and the heat of the exceptionally hot day, she was reduced to whimpering and sobbing for mercy. But even before she stopped breathing, and was still tossing and twitching, the ravens began their feast, pecking out her eyes and taking morsels from her face and hands. By the following evening only the skeletons of the crucified women adorned the execution hill.
Much later it turned out that both sisters were innocent. A rival merchant has slipped poison in the victim's drink the night before he died. But this discovery could not help Athena and Elena whose bones were dragged by dogs all over the area. And no one felt particularly devastated by this miscarriage of justice - oh well, it happens.
Athena and Elena
Two sisters lived in a village of olive farmers. They ran a boarding house, and one morning an olive oil merchant who spent the night in their house was found dead in his bed, apparently poisoned.
The magistrate realized that probably only one of them was guilty. They both fervently denied that they were responsible, but later the same day both were convicted and sentenced to the same punishment.
The next day at dawn they were brought out to the execution field.
Athena reconciled herself to her fate. She did not fight when she was stripped and raped. Thanks to her weaker frame she did not endure the terrible torture of the cross for long. After several hours of squirming and moaning she lost consciousness and before noon the ravens began their feast on her naked corpse.
Her sister Elena was far more energetic. She fought with all her strength. She cried loudly, and cursed her fate and her tormentors when she was nailed and raised. She went on struggling and screaming for help even as she was hanging over the heads of the onlookers, as if she believed she could fight her way off the cross, much to the crowd's delight.
She writhed on her cross, cursed, cried, and twisted her face in a grimace of immense suffering much more intensely than her sluggish sister. She also endured much longer than her sister did. She was able to watch from her cross how the birds began gnawing Athena's corpse down to the bare skeleton. She understood that it would be her fate as well and she was going crazy just thinking about it.
By late afternoon, defeated by the prolonged agony and the heat of the exceptionally hot day, she was reduced to whimpering and sobbing for mercy. But even before she stopped breathing, and was still tossing and twitching, the ravens began their feast, pecking out her eyes and taking morsels from her face and hands. By the following evening only the skeletons of the crucified women adorned the execution hill.
Much later it turned out that both sisters were innocent. A rival merchant has slipped poison in the victim's drink the night before he died. But this discovery could not help Athena and Elena whose bones were dragged by dogs all over the area. And no one felt particularly devastated by this miscarriage of justice - oh well, it happens.
Yupar
Regina Iudaeorum
Both pic and words are beautiful
Andyman
Senator
Thanks!
I am especially fond of young Marquise too.
Andyman
Senator
Megan's Passion Play
Megan, knowing that all the cameras were recording her every move, lay obediently on the wood of the cross. Just like her Master, Jesus Christ, who "did not open his mouth when he was led to the slaughter".
Of course, when the hammers were already driving the nails into her living body, she not only opened her mouth but also choked with a painful scream. The actors dressed as soldiers, according to the script, reacted to her tears and moans with laughter and mockery, although, to tell the truth, they barely managed to play this, the cruelest scene of the entire Passion Play correctly.
Although of course Megan herself had the most difficult role to play. Or rather, it was both the most difficult and the easiest at the same time. The hardest thing was to agree to it. Now, when the nails held her feet and wrists to the cross, she was completely defenseless and helpless, and she did not have to and could not do anything at all, just hang on the cross and die, writhing and moaning in pain. Besides, that was exactly what the director and the audience expected.
Anything?
Well, that wasn't entirely true. She could and should do one more thing, which she couldn't ask for earlier. Now, however, she thought that maybe she could do it.
Yes, for sure, she had to do it, although not with her own hands, cruelly nailed to the wood.
"Take off my loincloth," she said quietly to the soldiers, as soon as she regained her breath after nailing.
"Have you gone mad?", the centurion asked. "What is already happening is not enough for you?"
"Not at all. It's just that if we prepared a historically correct scenery and tried to play it all out so realistically, including driving the nails in and everything, it would be a shame to waste such an opportunity. Expose me!"
"I can't allow that...", the soldier frowned, "although neither the organizers nor even the city authorities would have anything against it..."
"So, do it. If you don't do it, I promise that I'll start shouting such things right away that I'll ruin the entire performance and the recording, do you want that?", she said through her teeth, forcing herself to control the growing pain in her wounds.
"Are you blackmailing us? So... So I have no choice...?"
"Yes, you don't have any choice," she hissed, lifting her hips above the beam. "Expose me. Expose me, NOW!"
Twenty seconds later, when a cross with a completely naked woman nailed to it rose above the heads of the surprised spectators, the people literally went crazy and there was no end to whistles, applause, shouts and laughter. For five minutes or so the delighted spectators watched every move and every breath of the crucified girl and the cameramen documented her agony in details.
"Just like our Master, Jesus Christ," Megan whispered to herself few minutes later, squeezing her eyes shut and, no longer able to defend herself from the overwhelming pain, hanging helplessly from the cross, tilting her head to the side and back, sticking out her breasts and spreading her thighs, regardless of the laughter and applause of thousands of gawkers.
After ten minutes more she felt she was no able to lift her body once again. She let out the air from her lungs with a loud rattling sound and her whole body shuddered.
"Now I can say just like our Master, Jesus Christ: it is finished", she whispered, losing her consciousness.
Megan, knowing that all the cameras were recording her every move, lay obediently on the wood of the cross. Just like her Master, Jesus Christ, who "did not open his mouth when he was led to the slaughter".
Of course, when the hammers were already driving the nails into her living body, she not only opened her mouth but also choked with a painful scream. The actors dressed as soldiers, according to the script, reacted to her tears and moans with laughter and mockery, although, to tell the truth, they barely managed to play this, the cruelest scene of the entire Passion Play correctly.
Although of course Megan herself had the most difficult role to play. Or rather, it was both the most difficult and the easiest at the same time. The hardest thing was to agree to it. Now, when the nails held her feet and wrists to the cross, she was completely defenseless and helpless, and she did not have to and could not do anything at all, just hang on the cross and die, writhing and moaning in pain. Besides, that was exactly what the director and the audience expected.
Anything?
Well, that wasn't entirely true. She could and should do one more thing, which she couldn't ask for earlier. Now, however, she thought that maybe she could do it.
Yes, for sure, she had to do it, although not with her own hands, cruelly nailed to the wood.
"Take off my loincloth," she said quietly to the soldiers, as soon as she regained her breath after nailing.
"Have you gone mad?", the centurion asked. "What is already happening is not enough for you?"
"Not at all. It's just that if we prepared a historically correct scenery and tried to play it all out so realistically, including driving the nails in and everything, it would be a shame to waste such an opportunity. Expose me!"
"I can't allow that...", the soldier frowned, "although neither the organizers nor even the city authorities would have anything against it..."
"So, do it. If you don't do it, I promise that I'll start shouting such things right away that I'll ruin the entire performance and the recording, do you want that?", she said through her teeth, forcing herself to control the growing pain in her wounds.
"Are you blackmailing us? So... So I have no choice...?"
"Yes, you don't have any choice," she hissed, lifting her hips above the beam. "Expose me. Expose me, NOW!"
Twenty seconds later, when a cross with a completely naked woman nailed to it rose above the heads of the surprised spectators, the people literally went crazy and there was no end to whistles, applause, shouts and laughter. For five minutes or so the delighted spectators watched every move and every breath of the crucified girl and the cameramen documented her agony in details.
"Just like our Master, Jesus Christ," Megan whispered to herself few minutes later, squeezing her eyes shut and, no longer able to defend herself from the overwhelming pain, hanging helplessly from the cross, tilting her head to the side and back, sticking out her breasts and spreading her thighs, regardless of the laughter and applause of thousands of gawkers.
After ten minutes more she felt she was no able to lift her body once again. She let out the air from her lungs with a loud rattling sound and her whole body shuddered.
"Now I can say just like our Master, Jesus Christ: it is finished", she whispered, losing her consciousness.
Magnificent story!!! What else could she do?!?!?!
Andyman
Senator
The last sheet from the Stella's diary.
----------------------------------------
They took off my shoes and dress and walked away a few steps to look at and divide the loot. The others took a hammer and nails and my heart froze. I couldn't say a word with terror.
The soldiers and executioners stood behind me and talked about something as if I wasn't there at all, and I stood facing the crowd and didn't know where to hide. Because there was no way or place to hide. Tied up and naked, and guarded by armed legionnaires, I had no way to escape nor to shield my shame from the eyes of the crowd.
Finally they approached me, cut the bonds and threw me on the cross, immediately began to nail my right hand. I thought I would go mad with pain, I screamed desperately, kicking my legs and grabbed my right wrist with my left hand, wet with blood, clenching my fingers. As soon as they finished, they pulled my hand away and drove a nail into the other wrist. Pain shot through me, from one wound to the other, through the entire length of my arms and chest, taking my breath away. Even my nipples ached. I arched my back, spreading my legs unconsciously. And when I regained my self control, I felt that the cross was lifted up and I was hanging on the wounds of my arms. Soon I was again torn apart by pain, unable to even scream, I was only crying like a little girl.
*
Because in reality I was a little girl. I was already an adult in my year, but I was still a maiden and a virgin. Still living with my parents in the cottage and helping around the farm as before, I did not feel this adulthood at all, and above my bed in the room there were still two rag dolls sitting on a shelf, which I sometimes still liked to cuddle secretly in the evening. It is true that I was soon to start cuddling my husband, because two boys my age started to come to my parents to court, one from our village, the other from a neighboring hamlet. I liked them both and they fought for my hand in advance, but nothing had been decided yet.
But the day my father's cart, driven carelessly, ran over the daughter of the salt mine owner, everything ended. Despite the doctors' help, the girl died soon after, and the salt mine owner demanded compensation. My father wanted to sell and liquidate all his property to pay compensation for the involuntary wrong, but the rich man demanded that the ancient law of "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" be fulfilled. And that my father could only pay for the death of his daughter with the death of his daughter.
That is, my death.
Our last hope was the judge. Although the judge usually sided with the rich and made sure that the verdicts were in their interest, I hoped that he might take pity on me.
But the judge agreed with him and without batting an eye, sentenced me to death, even though I had done nothing wrong.
And to the most terrible and monstrous death penalty - by crucifixion...!
*
The executioners drove nails into my ankles, nailing my feet to either side of the pole, and stepped back so the crowd of onlookers could get closer.
Through my watery eyes I couldn't see clearly at first, but then I realized that in the first row, right in front of me were Marcus and Valerius, the boys who had been trying to win my hand. Both of them had their brows furrowed, but while Marcus lowered his gaze, gnashing his teeth, angry that such a girl had been stolen from under his nose, Valerius, already reconciled with it, stared narrowly at my nakedness, taking advantage of what he was allowed. Seeing this, I tried to squeeze my knees together to hide my vulva from his sight, but my feet nailed to both sides of the pole made this task very painful and impossible to maintain for more than a minute or so.
The boys were silent, but from behind them I could hear laughter and loud whispers. In the second row, right behind them, stood my friends and colleagues. My peers, with whom I had played with my dolls a few years ago. Some of them looked at me with horror and disgust, others with indifference and amusement, and Marcus's older sister, our neighbor, with contempt and hatred. Seeing me looking at her, she spat at my feet and showed me the middle finger. Seeing this, Anna and Diana, my best friends and playmates, laughed and repeated the insulting gesture, sticking out their tongues at me. I burst into tears and turned my head away, and then many more people in the further rows laughed, including my aunt Lunulla, who had never liked me, and her daughter Altea, as well as our neighbors.
I felt a hand touch my buttock - the legionnaire guarding me approached me and, leaning out from behind my knees, looked up, moving his gaze over my vulva and belly, to my breasts and face.
"You're already bawling? Wait, it'll really start hurting in a few hours!" he said contemptuously. "And enjoy the attention, because by evening there's not much to see of you!"
He grinned and patted my butt before returning to his seat.
The soldier was right, now sweaty and snotty, with disheveled hair and caked with blood flowing from wounds, around which swarms of flies were starting to circle, I stopped looking like a teenager and more like carrion hanging from a tree.
I opened my eyes and noticed that my suitors and my friends had already left. Most of the other villagers had also returned to their daily work in the fields. They couldn't spend the whole day on the show, with cows lowing hungry and thirsty. Now, the main crowd at the foot of the cross was the townspeople from nearby Antium, who had more free time, and at their front stood the priests from the temples of Apollo and Minerva and the city officials. The mayor nodded and said loudly: "There must be justice!"
Hanging on my hands, I began to choke. I also didn't have the strength to squeeze my thighs any longer. I lifted myself up, and my knees spread. I heard shouts of encouragement and applause from the crowd, as if I were a stripper performing her show. The mayor exclaimed: "What a whore!" after which he too spat at my feet.
"When she dies, throw her into the river as food for the eels!" he added, and turned towards the descent from the hill to the city.
I fell down helplessly, hanging on my hands, aching, suffering and humiliated, not even having the strength to look at who was coming up to my cross next and what they were saying. I could only hear their laughter and mockery, and once again I felt terribly sad that I had to die and I started crying again. But after a moment, more jolts of pain shot through my body, and with a cry I lifted myself up, thrusting my hips. A stone, thrown by one of the women, hit me in the crotch. There was applause and a few more stones hit me in the lower abdomen, but I didn't care anymore.
Cursed by people and gods, I had only an ocean of suffering and no future before me. Not even a funeral awaited me. I slid down again, scraping my back and buttocks against the rough wood of the post, and hung helplessly, tilting my head to the side. Another stone, smaller but angular, hit me in the face, cutting my lips. I groaned quietly, not having the strength to move. But that was only until the pain in my wrists became so excruciating that I could not bear it in any way.
And then there was only pain, then terrible pain, then indescribable pain, and then suffering so terrifying that I thought I should die from it on the spot. But I could not die, so the suffering went from terrifying to monstrous, and then I thought nothing, and only suffered and suffered for many long, slowly passing hours, until I stopped thinking and feeling, and finally breathing.
And then there was nothing, only a feast for eels.
----------------------------------------
They took off my shoes and dress and walked away a few steps to look at and divide the loot. The others took a hammer and nails and my heart froze. I couldn't say a word with terror.
The soldiers and executioners stood behind me and talked about something as if I wasn't there at all, and I stood facing the crowd and didn't know where to hide. Because there was no way or place to hide. Tied up and naked, and guarded by armed legionnaires, I had no way to escape nor to shield my shame from the eyes of the crowd.
Finally they approached me, cut the bonds and threw me on the cross, immediately began to nail my right hand. I thought I would go mad with pain, I screamed desperately, kicking my legs and grabbed my right wrist with my left hand, wet with blood, clenching my fingers. As soon as they finished, they pulled my hand away and drove a nail into the other wrist. Pain shot through me, from one wound to the other, through the entire length of my arms and chest, taking my breath away. Even my nipples ached. I arched my back, spreading my legs unconsciously. And when I regained my self control, I felt that the cross was lifted up and I was hanging on the wounds of my arms. Soon I was again torn apart by pain, unable to even scream, I was only crying like a little girl.
*
Because in reality I was a little girl. I was already an adult in my year, but I was still a maiden and a virgin. Still living with my parents in the cottage and helping around the farm as before, I did not feel this adulthood at all, and above my bed in the room there were still two rag dolls sitting on a shelf, which I sometimes still liked to cuddle secretly in the evening. It is true that I was soon to start cuddling my husband, because two boys my age started to come to my parents to court, one from our village, the other from a neighboring hamlet. I liked them both and they fought for my hand in advance, but nothing had been decided yet.
But the day my father's cart, driven carelessly, ran over the daughter of the salt mine owner, everything ended. Despite the doctors' help, the girl died soon after, and the salt mine owner demanded compensation. My father wanted to sell and liquidate all his property to pay compensation for the involuntary wrong, but the rich man demanded that the ancient law of "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" be fulfilled. And that my father could only pay for the death of his daughter with the death of his daughter.
That is, my death.
Our last hope was the judge. Although the judge usually sided with the rich and made sure that the verdicts were in their interest, I hoped that he might take pity on me.
But the judge agreed with him and without batting an eye, sentenced me to death, even though I had done nothing wrong.
And to the most terrible and monstrous death penalty - by crucifixion...!
*
The executioners drove nails into my ankles, nailing my feet to either side of the pole, and stepped back so the crowd of onlookers could get closer.
Through my watery eyes I couldn't see clearly at first, but then I realized that in the first row, right in front of me were Marcus and Valerius, the boys who had been trying to win my hand. Both of them had their brows furrowed, but while Marcus lowered his gaze, gnashing his teeth, angry that such a girl had been stolen from under his nose, Valerius, already reconciled with it, stared narrowly at my nakedness, taking advantage of what he was allowed. Seeing this, I tried to squeeze my knees together to hide my vulva from his sight, but my feet nailed to both sides of the pole made this task very painful and impossible to maintain for more than a minute or so.
The boys were silent, but from behind them I could hear laughter and loud whispers. In the second row, right behind them, stood my friends and colleagues. My peers, with whom I had played with my dolls a few years ago. Some of them looked at me with horror and disgust, others with indifference and amusement, and Marcus's older sister, our neighbor, with contempt and hatred. Seeing me looking at her, she spat at my feet and showed me the middle finger. Seeing this, Anna and Diana, my best friends and playmates, laughed and repeated the insulting gesture, sticking out their tongues at me. I burst into tears and turned my head away, and then many more people in the further rows laughed, including my aunt Lunulla, who had never liked me, and her daughter Altea, as well as our neighbors.
I felt a hand touch my buttock - the legionnaire guarding me approached me and, leaning out from behind my knees, looked up, moving his gaze over my vulva and belly, to my breasts and face.
"You're already bawling? Wait, it'll really start hurting in a few hours!" he said contemptuously. "And enjoy the attention, because by evening there's not much to see of you!"
He grinned and patted my butt before returning to his seat.
The soldier was right, now sweaty and snotty, with disheveled hair and caked with blood flowing from wounds, around which swarms of flies were starting to circle, I stopped looking like a teenager and more like carrion hanging from a tree.
I opened my eyes and noticed that my suitors and my friends had already left. Most of the other villagers had also returned to their daily work in the fields. They couldn't spend the whole day on the show, with cows lowing hungry and thirsty. Now, the main crowd at the foot of the cross was the townspeople from nearby Antium, who had more free time, and at their front stood the priests from the temples of Apollo and Minerva and the city officials. The mayor nodded and said loudly: "There must be justice!"
Hanging on my hands, I began to choke. I also didn't have the strength to squeeze my thighs any longer. I lifted myself up, and my knees spread. I heard shouts of encouragement and applause from the crowd, as if I were a stripper performing her show. The mayor exclaimed: "What a whore!" after which he too spat at my feet.
"When she dies, throw her into the river as food for the eels!" he added, and turned towards the descent from the hill to the city.
I fell down helplessly, hanging on my hands, aching, suffering and humiliated, not even having the strength to look at who was coming up to my cross next and what they were saying. I could only hear their laughter and mockery, and once again I felt terribly sad that I had to die and I started crying again. But after a moment, more jolts of pain shot through my body, and with a cry I lifted myself up, thrusting my hips. A stone, thrown by one of the women, hit me in the crotch. There was applause and a few more stones hit me in the lower abdomen, but I didn't care anymore.
Cursed by people and gods, I had only an ocean of suffering and no future before me. Not even a funeral awaited me. I slid down again, scraping my back and buttocks against the rough wood of the post, and hung helplessly, tilting my head to the side. Another stone, smaller but angular, hit me in the face, cutting my lips. I groaned quietly, not having the strength to move. But that was only until the pain in my wrists became so excruciating that I could not bear it in any way.
And then there was only pain, then terrible pain, then indescribable pain, and then suffering so terrifying that I thought I should die from it on the spot. But I could not die, so the suffering went from terrifying to monstrous, and then I thought nothing, and only suffered and suffered for many long, slowly passing hours, until I stopped thinking and feeling, and finally breathing.
And then there was nothing, only a feast for eels.
There is a cruelness to Stella's crucifixion. Her father's action was a tragic accident which he was more than willing to compensate for but he never thought it would cost him so much. Stella knows of the bizarre laws that have gotten her crucified but cannot comprehend the pain of the nails and being hung from cross for her father's mistake.
There is no sympathy for her. Someone must pay for what her father has done. It is only fitting fitting his innocent daughter hangs naked on the cross for something she had nothing to do with...
Andyman
Senator
Esther's death
----------------
A short story.
Esther was one of two peasant women who went out together that day to mow a meadow by the Tiber and argued about some trifle, but because they had argued before, they both steppedly got so furious that they grabbed sickles and threw themselves at each other in a frenzy. The neighbor was lucky and died from Esther's sickle.
Wait, wait... why didn't I write that Esther was lucky to win that "duel"?
Well, take a look at the rest of her short story illustrated below.
A short story of a long agony...
----------------
A short story.
Esther was one of two peasant women who went out together that day to mow a meadow by the Tiber and argued about some trifle, but because they had argued before, they both steppedly got so furious that they grabbed sickles and threw themselves at each other in a frenzy. The neighbor was lucky and died from Esther's sickle.
Wait, wait... why didn't I write that Esther was lucky to win that "duel"?
Well, take a look at the rest of her short story illustrated below.
A short story of a long agony...
At least the soldier took the last thing of value before he nailed her to the cross...
Yupar
Regina Iudaeorum
Shut up and strip me naked !
If not i will piss on it
Go ahead, then when we strip the cloth from you I will save it for the next time you need a drink. Eco friendly recycling.