Andyman
Senator
Passion Play of Marika
Marika closed her eyes as her "torturers" took off her tunic. She kicked off her previously untied sandals. She trembled with emotion. She was really naked and defenseless. Humiliated. Disgraced. Dehumanized. There was an applause and whistles from the crowd, although for now all they could see was her back and bottom.
Marika tried to calm her breathing. It's not real - it's just a Passion Play. And nudity is a part of an actress's job, as she understood it. But, of course, a theater performance is a bit different than an outdoor performance in front of a crowd of random spectators and passers-by, so she had to have some time to get used to the situation. But she was given no time.
She lifted up and stretched out her hands, which were tied to the ropes hooked to the doors of the cathedral. Scenes from the life of the Messiah were carved on the decorative reliefs covering the doors. In front of her, she saw panels with scenes of scourging and crowning with thorns. She looked at these bas-reliefs, waiting for the whips to fall on her back and buttocks. She shuddered, biting her lip as the first blow landed, but made no sound.
The flogging was moderately severe and, of course, did not resemble real Roman scourging, from which sometimes the condemned died even without further torture. The whip was made of thin strings, not thick leather straps, and was loaded only with knots. But the convict's nakedness during the flogging was real and complete. And straight after the flogging for the "Ecce Homo" scene she had a crown of thorns placed on her head and a titulus hung on her neck, and she was presented to the crowd shrieking "Crucify her! Crucify!" She was surprised if not shocked. She agreed that some parts of the show would be improvised by the "torturers", but she didn't expected that no mantle would be given to her during this scene. They didn't put her own clothes on her too, because she wasn't ordered to go anywhere farther with the beam. She was supposed to be nailed to wood here - and immediately afterwards. The spectacle was organized in one place and the cross, designed to really safely lift the body of the volunteer nailed to it, was too heavy to be carried and the beam was glued and screwed to the post in order to meet strict safety conditions, so the condemned woman was not to carry it. The cross laid ready, waiting for her, placed diagonally on the steps of the cathedral, which allowed the faithful gathered in the square to watch the execution with no obstacles.
So, Marika laid down on the cross and looked at the crowd of thousands gathered in the square. Although she knew what she had decided on, now she felt a sudden desire to cover her private parts with her hands, at least for a moment. She did it instinctively. She tried hard to hold back her fear. Now the part of the show that she feared the most was about to begin, because even though she had volunteered, she had no idea how much pain she would now have to endure.
Two "torturers" with hammers and nails in their hands knelt on both sides of the beam and Marika obediently spreaded her hands, which they pressed to the beam. The woman felt cold nail blades pressed against her wrists. And then the choir began the passion song and the hammers fell.
The condemned woman's screamed of pain, drowned out even the voices of the choristers for a moment, and thenher scream turned into a long wail. Several quick hammer blows pierced the woman's wrists and the nail points penetrated the flesh, bones and wood, immobilizing her hands. But the nails were also long and solid, for safety, and there were still a few inches of their shanks left to drive.
Now the third man approached her feet and, with the same rapid series of blows, drove a third, even longer nail into her midfeet, ignoring her screams.
Only now did the hammering of the nails to the proper depth begin. Slowly, with not very strong blows, the three torturers hit the heads of their nails one by one: left hand, right hand, feet, left hand, right, feet... Every two seconds, the square resounded with the sound of a hammer hitting a nail and a woman's muffled moan. Marika writhed in terrible pain. Torn by pain from three sides at the same time, she felt an effect she had not anticipated at all. The pain from her hands seemed to flow down her arms and concentrate in her breasts, and from her feet it flowed up her thighs to her groin and lower abdomen. Even though she felt terrible and was close to vomiting as she heard the grating of nails on bone and felt the jolts of pain, at the same time, against her will, her body was overcome with sexual excitement that was close to orgasm. The breasts hardened and the vulva swelled, revealing moist labia.
She squeezed her thighs to hide these embarrassing symptoms from onlookers. Unfortunately, it didn't do much, and as she heard the chatter of voices, she realized that the audience had noticed it too, and that it was amusing them. Purple with shame, feeling more debased than aroused, at that moment she dreamed of a heart attack that would free her from the rest of the show. But she was a young, healthy woman and could not count on any heart attack or stroke. And she was a pretty, attractive woman, exposed full naked, so she couldn't cope with her body's involuntary sexual reactions.
Finally the heads of the nails touched the surface of her skin. The hammering was finished. The "chief tormentor" looked at Marika questioningly. She was breathing hard and fast, shuddering until her breasts bounced. She nodded, unable to speak: you can continue.
She closed her eyes again, slowly trying to overwhelm the pain and dread. But she felt nearly choked with fear. She was fully aware that it was only a prelude, and now the real execution would begin - she felt so defenceless and frightened of the cruelty of the torment that she shivered and chattered her teeth, as if her naked body had been exposed to the frost rather than the heat of the sun.
The cross was lifted up and fixed vertical. Marika opened her eyes full of tears and saw hundreds and hundreds of people looking at her. The imaginable pain took away her control and despite herself, she begun to dance, assuming various indecent body positions, pushing out her breasts and sticking out her vulva, sobbing and wailing, and she was unable to keep her knees pressed together. At the same time, the more she felt ashamed and desired to hide her nakedness, knowing at the same time that it was completely impossible, the more she felt a growing arousal. And the more she focused on fighting the arousal, the more she felt aroused. Finally the painful tingling between her legs forced her to spread her knees and push her hips forward, weeping and moaning with pain and shame while the streamlet of urine trickled down and the crowd went crazy seeing her such humiliated.
Shaking her head she continued to lift up and lower her body in a painful dance, scrubbing her buttocks against the wood. Her heavy breasts, with their nipples still sticking out in excitement, bounced and swayed with every movement. An excruciating pain forced her to dance constantly without pausing, though the horrible painful cramps begun to grip her overworked muscles. But all the time the feeling of shame and humiliation
The choir was still singing a passion song. Half-dead Marika hoped that her show would end soon after the choir finished singing. She was right, however she was not familiar with the medieval religious poetry. So, she didn't know that they were singing the longest survived Latin passion poem, containing of 78 stanzas. And right now they were singing the 23rd.
Half an hour later, when she was offered a posca and pierced with a fake spear, she was totally exhausted and nearly dead for real.
Marika closed her eyes as her "torturers" took off her tunic. She kicked off her previously untied sandals. She trembled with emotion. She was really naked and defenseless. Humiliated. Disgraced. Dehumanized. There was an applause and whistles from the crowd, although for now all they could see was her back and bottom.
Marika tried to calm her breathing. It's not real - it's just a Passion Play. And nudity is a part of an actress's job, as she understood it. But, of course, a theater performance is a bit different than an outdoor performance in front of a crowd of random spectators and passers-by, so she had to have some time to get used to the situation. But she was given no time.
She lifted up and stretched out her hands, which were tied to the ropes hooked to the doors of the cathedral. Scenes from the life of the Messiah were carved on the decorative reliefs covering the doors. In front of her, she saw panels with scenes of scourging and crowning with thorns. She looked at these bas-reliefs, waiting for the whips to fall on her back and buttocks. She shuddered, biting her lip as the first blow landed, but made no sound.
The flogging was moderately severe and, of course, did not resemble real Roman scourging, from which sometimes the condemned died even without further torture. The whip was made of thin strings, not thick leather straps, and was loaded only with knots. But the convict's nakedness during the flogging was real and complete. And straight after the flogging for the "Ecce Homo" scene she had a crown of thorns placed on her head and a titulus hung on her neck, and she was presented to the crowd shrieking "Crucify her! Crucify!" She was surprised if not shocked. She agreed that some parts of the show would be improvised by the "torturers", but she didn't expected that no mantle would be given to her during this scene. They didn't put her own clothes on her too, because she wasn't ordered to go anywhere farther with the beam. She was supposed to be nailed to wood here - and immediately afterwards. The spectacle was organized in one place and the cross, designed to really safely lift the body of the volunteer nailed to it, was too heavy to be carried and the beam was glued and screwed to the post in order to meet strict safety conditions, so the condemned woman was not to carry it. The cross laid ready, waiting for her, placed diagonally on the steps of the cathedral, which allowed the faithful gathered in the square to watch the execution with no obstacles.
So, Marika laid down on the cross and looked at the crowd of thousands gathered in the square. Although she knew what she had decided on, now she felt a sudden desire to cover her private parts with her hands, at least for a moment. She did it instinctively. She tried hard to hold back her fear. Now the part of the show that she feared the most was about to begin, because even though she had volunteered, she had no idea how much pain she would now have to endure.
Two "torturers" with hammers and nails in their hands knelt on both sides of the beam and Marika obediently spreaded her hands, which they pressed to the beam. The woman felt cold nail blades pressed against her wrists. And then the choir began the passion song and the hammers fell.
The condemned woman's screamed of pain, drowned out even the voices of the choristers for a moment, and thenher scream turned into a long wail. Several quick hammer blows pierced the woman's wrists and the nail points penetrated the flesh, bones and wood, immobilizing her hands. But the nails were also long and solid, for safety, and there were still a few inches of their shanks left to drive.
Now the third man approached her feet and, with the same rapid series of blows, drove a third, even longer nail into her midfeet, ignoring her screams.
Only now did the hammering of the nails to the proper depth begin. Slowly, with not very strong blows, the three torturers hit the heads of their nails one by one: left hand, right hand, feet, left hand, right, feet... Every two seconds, the square resounded with the sound of a hammer hitting a nail and a woman's muffled moan. Marika writhed in terrible pain. Torn by pain from three sides at the same time, she felt an effect she had not anticipated at all. The pain from her hands seemed to flow down her arms and concentrate in her breasts, and from her feet it flowed up her thighs to her groin and lower abdomen. Even though she felt terrible and was close to vomiting as she heard the grating of nails on bone and felt the jolts of pain, at the same time, against her will, her body was overcome with sexual excitement that was close to orgasm. The breasts hardened and the vulva swelled, revealing moist labia.
She squeezed her thighs to hide these embarrassing symptoms from onlookers. Unfortunately, it didn't do much, and as she heard the chatter of voices, she realized that the audience had noticed it too, and that it was amusing them. Purple with shame, feeling more debased than aroused, at that moment she dreamed of a heart attack that would free her from the rest of the show. But she was a young, healthy woman and could not count on any heart attack or stroke. And she was a pretty, attractive woman, exposed full naked, so she couldn't cope with her body's involuntary sexual reactions.
Finally the heads of the nails touched the surface of her skin. The hammering was finished. The "chief tormentor" looked at Marika questioningly. She was breathing hard and fast, shuddering until her breasts bounced. She nodded, unable to speak: you can continue.
She closed her eyes again, slowly trying to overwhelm the pain and dread. But she felt nearly choked with fear. She was fully aware that it was only a prelude, and now the real execution would begin - she felt so defenceless and frightened of the cruelty of the torment that she shivered and chattered her teeth, as if her naked body had been exposed to the frost rather than the heat of the sun.
The cross was lifted up and fixed vertical. Marika opened her eyes full of tears and saw hundreds and hundreds of people looking at her. The imaginable pain took away her control and despite herself, she begun to dance, assuming various indecent body positions, pushing out her breasts and sticking out her vulva, sobbing and wailing, and she was unable to keep her knees pressed together. At the same time, the more she felt ashamed and desired to hide her nakedness, knowing at the same time that it was completely impossible, the more she felt a growing arousal. And the more she focused on fighting the arousal, the more she felt aroused. Finally the painful tingling between her legs forced her to spread her knees and push her hips forward, weeping and moaning with pain and shame while the streamlet of urine trickled down and the crowd went crazy seeing her such humiliated.
Shaking her head she continued to lift up and lower her body in a painful dance, scrubbing her buttocks against the wood. Her heavy breasts, with their nipples still sticking out in excitement, bounced and swayed with every movement. An excruciating pain forced her to dance constantly without pausing, though the horrible painful cramps begun to grip her overworked muscles. But all the time the feeling of shame and humiliation
The choir was still singing a passion song. Half-dead Marika hoped that her show would end soon after the choir finished singing. She was right, however she was not familiar with the medieval religious poetry. So, she didn't know that they were singing the longest survived Latin passion poem, containing of 78 stanzas. And right now they were singing the 23rd.
Half an hour later, when she was offered a posca and pierced with a fake spear, she was totally exhausted and nearly dead for real.
