crassuswild
Magistrate
The Crucified Gaul
"Citizens, we gather today to see justice done, the criminal standing before your now Arnoldus of Gaul was captured after the bandits cowardly attack on this town so bravely defeated by the noble soldiers of Rome!" i wait for the crowd to cheer and the soldiers to salute them "The prisoner standing stripped and bound before the might of Rome has been tried and found guilty, of crimes against the state, for treason, for being a murderous bandit and for theft" the crowd jeers" and so for terrible crimes must come a terrible punishment, let it be known that on this day Arnoldus of Gaul will be executed" the crowd jeers again " his villainy was so great, his cause so ignoble, his birth so low, that the only fitting death for this criminal is that of public crucifixion." a whisper of horror goes through the crowd "i see you look down sadly at the mention of crucifixion before taking a deep breath and bravely facing the crowd again, "Let it be known how Arnoldus of Gaul died, let it be known that he died a low born slave, spread the word of his failure of how he tried to raise his hand against Rome but instead that hand was nailed to a Roman Cross, let it be known how he had tried to fight Rome but Rome had beaten him and displayed him for all to see on a Roman cross, utterly defeated and helpless" i see your face going red from the shame and humiliation, red from the utter degradation of your situation, i go one "tell your children how he died in torment and was left for the crows and rats to feed on, tell them how he was not buried and was left to rot on his cross as damned in the next life as he is in this one" i see you flinch at this, at the knowledge you will not be buried but left to rot on your cross "tell everyone of the justly savage death of this criminal and so they will learn from his example and not follow down his criminal path, soldiers of Rome you have a duty, execute this criminal in the name of Rome!"
At my command the soldiers step forward and a see a moment of panic in your eyes, the savage execution is really going to start now, they grab your bound arms and force you towards the wooden structure in the middle of the cart, the crowd starts to jeer and whistle, i can see the blood lust in there eyes, there is something fascinating and primal watching a healthy man tortured and killed before your eyes.
i see the look on your face, pained and gaunt, trying to swallow your fear, trying to look brave. they drag you towards the wood, you struggle slightly now but your face remains calm, they force your arms up towards the crosspiece of the H structure , exposing the hairy pits under your arms. they force your arms up and thread a rope between your bounds wrists, they from the rope over the beam and pull, your arms are pulled up and your stretched up, your ribs become obvious under your lean chest as your arms are pulled over your head, the rope is wound around the beam and then tied off, your struggle and twist, pulling at the rope but you realise it is well secured and so you just stop, looking out at the crowd breathing hard. your arms bent and your wrists resting on the top of your head, i admire you standing, bound before the crowd, stoic despite what is going to happen to you. You take in deep breaths as you try to control your nerves.
Marco with a swagger spits in your face, then deliberately look down you follow his gaze and he looks at your loincloth, "Time to show the citizens what you got" he grins mirthlessly, with a look of distaste he grabs the fabric of your loincloth in his fist, then he turns to the crowd "all traitors die naked before the might of Rome, humiliated and as slaves" with that he starts to tug at your loincloth, you have tied it well with with the third tug the knot snaps and the fabric rips, he pulls the filthy fabric wetly from your ass and thighs and he allows it it fall to the platform,
your finally totally demeaned before the mob. The sun is hot and the sky is blue and a warm breeze blows across the market, the crowd shouts and points, laughing and whistling, they cheer and mock as your cock falls against your thigh, exposed for all to see, your balls slowly descending down they are free from the confines of the fabric, i thrill at seeing you, your uncut cock hangs big and heavy, at least you have nothing to be ashamed of i smile.
Your face is red from the shame, for a freedom fighter to be captured and naked before the power of Rome must be the ultimate humiliation. Your naked before your people, naked before men, women and children, friends and enemies.
The shouting and jeering from the crowd slowly subsides and the Lictor climbs onto the back of the cart, the savage flagram whip in his hands, The Lictor is a handsome, muscular man, proud of his powerful body, he is shirtless and he flexes his muscles and enjoys the cheers from the girls in the crowd, you can smell his musky sweat and the wine on his breath as he approaches you, grinning he lets the whip dangle down your chest, you feel the leather cats and the iron studs gently caress your torso, he allows the whip to dangle lower, to tickle your exposed cock, then the game is over, he takes his position behind you and vanishes from your view.
The Lictor waits for my command, i give it "Flog him" i order
i watch you bound and naked, your chest nervously panting in anticipation as the Lictor stands behind you.
You try to look around you, then look down at the platform floor then look into the crowd, still panting nervously, waiting for the pain to start, naked and degraded before the mocking gaze of the crowd and helpless before the flagrum.
The Lictor snaps the whip against the wood of the platform with a shocking crack, i am amused to see you just jump from the sound, you look angry for a moment at being fooled by such a simple trick.
Then he raises the whip, he studies your back and your ass with a professional eye, he draws back his arm then with sudden violence slices his arm through the air, the whip whooshes through the air and cuts into your back, the effect on you is instantaneous, your back arches and your cock slaps your thigh as you twist in pain ,your face grimaces and you stifle a cry of pain as the whip curls around your chest and welts your glistening skin, you stamp the platform in pain and frustration. The crowd cheers at the first lash and at your pain.
The Lictor lashed out again and the whip welts your naked ass leaving a blood dappled welt across the hairy cheeks, your jerk forward , your cock slapping your belly causing another laugh from the mob, your face twists from the pain.
The lash snaps across your lower back and this at last drags a cry of pain from you, you twist in your bonds.
The crowd cheers as the lictor continues to whip you, your twist and writhe against the ropes that hold you, you grunt and yell in pain as the savage cats cut and welt your helpless skin, your twisting in the desperate attempt to escape the pain of the whip merely means that the whip cuts at other parts of your body, legs, ass, back and shoulder are striped under the cruel bite of the whip. soon your back and ass are raw and your cocooned in pain...
i watch in excited fascination as you are scourged. your pain must be mounting now was whip lashes start to land on skin that i already raw and welted. your twisting in your bonds now, your leg muscles tense and moving as you turn in a futile attempt to avoid the agony of the whip. Sweat rolls down your body, your glistening skin emphasising the crude whip stripe that line your body, your gaunt face creases with pain now but you still manage to suppress your crying out although you are regularly giving a deep guttural grunt of pain as the whip curls around you. the crowd cheers and laughs at your suffering, mocking your cock so rudely exposed as it slaps your thighs as you twist and jerk.
i have lost count of the whip strokes now, the lictor, now sweating from the effort knows that i want to make an example of you, knows that i want you to be tortured by the cross for many days so he is not causing to much bloodloss, your pain is intense but little muscle damage has been caused, he can flog a man so that the criminals back is torn off and his ribs bloodily exposed , he is not doing this to you although your are scarlet with welts, some of which are beaded with livid blood.
i see your head shake from side to side as you toss the sweat from your eyes and maybe the tears that have been dragged from you by the painful torture on your body, the sweat rolls down your chest, your chest hair matted dark with moisture, rolls down your flat stomach and into your dark pubic hair, some drips from your cock as you squirm.
The whip cuts across the back of your legs and the mob cheers and laughs as you do an involuntary dance of pain your legs shaking and stamping on the wet wood.
Finally it is over, the muscular lictor, his own chest dripping with sweat take a pitcher and drinks deeply to refresh himself. your eyes flicker and screw up as you retreat into yourself.
you stand, hanging from your arms, your chest panting, sucking in air, trying to control your pain, your bound hands unable to smooth and sooth your tortured skin. A soldier brings a horse bucket and the crowd laughs as he stands next to you, he gives your face a slap before pouring the cold water from the bucket over you.
the crowd cheers as the chilled water cascades down your naked body, your shake and spasm from the shock of the cold, your balls retreat into yourself and your mouth forms an O shape. the water has done what it was intended to do and brought you back to shocking consciousness .
i look you in the eye, your shaking and jerking in shock, i say loudly so all can hear me.
"release him, it is time this criminal made his final journey to his cross..."
i watch as the soldiers untie the ropes that hold you to the whipping fame, you stagger and sink to your knees when free, you hold your arms around your shaking body, deperate to stroke and sooth your torn skin. you fall forward and rest on your elbow and i get to see how red and striped your back is, a raw mass of pain and welts. rivulets of blood drip from where the skin has torn.
The soldier replaces the chain around your neck and tugs on it, still on your knees your are humiliatingly dragged along the platform, crawling on all fours like a dog, you fall and rool down the steps, will a yell you fall down the steps with a clatter, your naked body painfully bouncing off the crude wooden steps.
you come to rest at the bottom of the steps, groaning from your raw body slamming into the dirty ground, moaning from where you hit your head on the way down, you lay on the ground, shaking from pain and the cold water, cock limp on you thigh, skin dirty from the water making the dirt from the market square stick to you. you rest there for a moment but they pull the chain, with a grunt your forced to crawl onto your knees.
You kneel in pain, breathing deeply, your cock limp between your thighs and laying on the dirty ground, a soldier uses his foot to force your head down towards the ground while two others start to carry your crossbeam back to you, they grab your arms and drop the wood onto your raw back, you moan in pain as the wood presses down on your bloody skin.
they grab your arms and force them up, along the length of the wood and the loop ropes around your elbows and tighten the ropes, they ensure that the ropes are tightly bound. i see they are satisfied that your secured to the crossbeam, they let it go and stand back, you take the full weight of the wood on your lashed back, i hear you whimper with pain although you quickly bit the sound back through clenched teeth
"on your fucking feet traitor!" snarls Marco and whips you hard at the base of your back.
i watch you as you struggle to stand, watch the muscles flexing in your arms and legs as you try to take the weight, watching your push up, lifting the wood, watching your cock wiggle as you force yourself to stand,
you stand at last, your skin welted and raw, the wood balanced across your shoulders.
"MOVE!" orders Marco and i watch as bent under your crossbeam you take your first faltering step towards your crucifixion...
You are struggling now as you are led from the market square towards the town gates, bent under the crossbeam, the burden crushing you down pressing into your torn skin. Your stagger slightly under the wait but the soldiers yank you forward by the chain by the neck. Your knees are slightly bent and bowed from the weight and your cock and balls swing between your legs before the mocking crowd.
I order my slaves to lift my chair and carry me to the gates and to the place of execution, they obey and i soon pass you as you struggle on. You turn your head as my chair is carried passed, i see the pain and resentment in your eyes although you continue to keep your face calm and stoic. Sweat now drips freely from your body as you labour in the heat, it is going to be a hot day.
we pass through the gates and along the road and ahead i can see the small gathering of waiting soldiers preparing the stipes for your cross,
My slaves set down my cross where i will have a good view of the proceedings, the soldiers salute as i near them. They have ropes, a mallet and several thick iron spikes waiting for you.
"Citizens, we gather today to see justice done, the criminal standing before your now Arnoldus of Gaul was captured after the bandits cowardly attack on this town so bravely defeated by the noble soldiers of Rome!" i wait for the crowd to cheer and the soldiers to salute them "The prisoner standing stripped and bound before the might of Rome has been tried and found guilty, of crimes against the state, for treason, for being a murderous bandit and for theft" the crowd jeers" and so for terrible crimes must come a terrible punishment, let it be known that on this day Arnoldus of Gaul will be executed" the crowd jeers again " his villainy was so great, his cause so ignoble, his birth so low, that the only fitting death for this criminal is that of public crucifixion." a whisper of horror goes through the crowd "i see you look down sadly at the mention of crucifixion before taking a deep breath and bravely facing the crowd again, "Let it be known how Arnoldus of Gaul died, let it be known that he died a low born slave, spread the word of his failure of how he tried to raise his hand against Rome but instead that hand was nailed to a Roman Cross, let it be known how he had tried to fight Rome but Rome had beaten him and displayed him for all to see on a Roman cross, utterly defeated and helpless" i see your face going red from the shame and humiliation, red from the utter degradation of your situation, i go one "tell your children how he died in torment and was left for the crows and rats to feed on, tell them how he was not buried and was left to rot on his cross as damned in the next life as he is in this one" i see you flinch at this, at the knowledge you will not be buried but left to rot on your cross "tell everyone of the justly savage death of this criminal and so they will learn from his example and not follow down his criminal path, soldiers of Rome you have a duty, execute this criminal in the name of Rome!"
At my command the soldiers step forward and a see a moment of panic in your eyes, the savage execution is really going to start now, they grab your bound arms and force you towards the wooden structure in the middle of the cart, the crowd starts to jeer and whistle, i can see the blood lust in there eyes, there is something fascinating and primal watching a healthy man tortured and killed before your eyes.
i see the look on your face, pained and gaunt, trying to swallow your fear, trying to look brave. they drag you towards the wood, you struggle slightly now but your face remains calm, they force your arms up towards the crosspiece of the H structure , exposing the hairy pits under your arms. they force your arms up and thread a rope between your bounds wrists, they from the rope over the beam and pull, your arms are pulled up and your stretched up, your ribs become obvious under your lean chest as your arms are pulled over your head, the rope is wound around the beam and then tied off, your struggle and twist, pulling at the rope but you realise it is well secured and so you just stop, looking out at the crowd breathing hard. your arms bent and your wrists resting on the top of your head, i admire you standing, bound before the crowd, stoic despite what is going to happen to you. You take in deep breaths as you try to control your nerves.
Marco with a swagger spits in your face, then deliberately look down you follow his gaze and he looks at your loincloth, "Time to show the citizens what you got" he grins mirthlessly, with a look of distaste he grabs the fabric of your loincloth in his fist, then he turns to the crowd "all traitors die naked before the might of Rome, humiliated and as slaves" with that he starts to tug at your loincloth, you have tied it well with with the third tug the knot snaps and the fabric rips, he pulls the filthy fabric wetly from your ass and thighs and he allows it it fall to the platform,
your finally totally demeaned before the mob. The sun is hot and the sky is blue and a warm breeze blows across the market, the crowd shouts and points, laughing and whistling, they cheer and mock as your cock falls against your thigh, exposed for all to see, your balls slowly descending down they are free from the confines of the fabric, i thrill at seeing you, your uncut cock hangs big and heavy, at least you have nothing to be ashamed of i smile.
Your face is red from the shame, for a freedom fighter to be captured and naked before the power of Rome must be the ultimate humiliation. Your naked before your people, naked before men, women and children, friends and enemies.
The shouting and jeering from the crowd slowly subsides and the Lictor climbs onto the back of the cart, the savage flagram whip in his hands, The Lictor is a handsome, muscular man, proud of his powerful body, he is shirtless and he flexes his muscles and enjoys the cheers from the girls in the crowd, you can smell his musky sweat and the wine on his breath as he approaches you, grinning he lets the whip dangle down your chest, you feel the leather cats and the iron studs gently caress your torso, he allows the whip to dangle lower, to tickle your exposed cock, then the game is over, he takes his position behind you and vanishes from your view.
The Lictor waits for my command, i give it "Flog him" i order
i watch you bound and naked, your chest nervously panting in anticipation as the Lictor stands behind you.
You try to look around you, then look down at the platform floor then look into the crowd, still panting nervously, waiting for the pain to start, naked and degraded before the mocking gaze of the crowd and helpless before the flagrum.
The Lictor snaps the whip against the wood of the platform with a shocking crack, i am amused to see you just jump from the sound, you look angry for a moment at being fooled by such a simple trick.
Then he raises the whip, he studies your back and your ass with a professional eye, he draws back his arm then with sudden violence slices his arm through the air, the whip whooshes through the air and cuts into your back, the effect on you is instantaneous, your back arches and your cock slaps your thigh as you twist in pain ,your face grimaces and you stifle a cry of pain as the whip curls around your chest and welts your glistening skin, you stamp the platform in pain and frustration. The crowd cheers at the first lash and at your pain.
The Lictor lashed out again and the whip welts your naked ass leaving a blood dappled welt across the hairy cheeks, your jerk forward , your cock slapping your belly causing another laugh from the mob, your face twists from the pain.
The lash snaps across your lower back and this at last drags a cry of pain from you, you twist in your bonds.
The crowd cheers as the lictor continues to whip you, your twist and writhe against the ropes that hold you, you grunt and yell in pain as the savage cats cut and welt your helpless skin, your twisting in the desperate attempt to escape the pain of the whip merely means that the whip cuts at other parts of your body, legs, ass, back and shoulder are striped under the cruel bite of the whip. soon your back and ass are raw and your cocooned in pain...
i watch in excited fascination as you are scourged. your pain must be mounting now was whip lashes start to land on skin that i already raw and welted. your twisting in your bonds now, your leg muscles tense and moving as you turn in a futile attempt to avoid the agony of the whip. Sweat rolls down your body, your glistening skin emphasising the crude whip stripe that line your body, your gaunt face creases with pain now but you still manage to suppress your crying out although you are regularly giving a deep guttural grunt of pain as the whip curls around you. the crowd cheers and laughs at your suffering, mocking your cock so rudely exposed as it slaps your thighs as you twist and jerk.
i have lost count of the whip strokes now, the lictor, now sweating from the effort knows that i want to make an example of you, knows that i want you to be tortured by the cross for many days so he is not causing to much bloodloss, your pain is intense but little muscle damage has been caused, he can flog a man so that the criminals back is torn off and his ribs bloodily exposed , he is not doing this to you although your are scarlet with welts, some of which are beaded with livid blood.
i see your head shake from side to side as you toss the sweat from your eyes and maybe the tears that have been dragged from you by the painful torture on your body, the sweat rolls down your chest, your chest hair matted dark with moisture, rolls down your flat stomach and into your dark pubic hair, some drips from your cock as you squirm.
The whip cuts across the back of your legs and the mob cheers and laughs as you do an involuntary dance of pain your legs shaking and stamping on the wet wood.
Finally it is over, the muscular lictor, his own chest dripping with sweat take a pitcher and drinks deeply to refresh himself. your eyes flicker and screw up as you retreat into yourself.
you stand, hanging from your arms, your chest panting, sucking in air, trying to control your pain, your bound hands unable to smooth and sooth your tortured skin. A soldier brings a horse bucket and the crowd laughs as he stands next to you, he gives your face a slap before pouring the cold water from the bucket over you.
the crowd cheers as the chilled water cascades down your naked body, your shake and spasm from the shock of the cold, your balls retreat into yourself and your mouth forms an O shape. the water has done what it was intended to do and brought you back to shocking consciousness .
i look you in the eye, your shaking and jerking in shock, i say loudly so all can hear me.
"release him, it is time this criminal made his final journey to his cross..."
i watch as the soldiers untie the ropes that hold you to the whipping fame, you stagger and sink to your knees when free, you hold your arms around your shaking body, deperate to stroke and sooth your torn skin. you fall forward and rest on your elbow and i get to see how red and striped your back is, a raw mass of pain and welts. rivulets of blood drip from where the skin has torn.
The soldier replaces the chain around your neck and tugs on it, still on your knees your are humiliatingly dragged along the platform, crawling on all fours like a dog, you fall and rool down the steps, will a yell you fall down the steps with a clatter, your naked body painfully bouncing off the crude wooden steps.
you come to rest at the bottom of the steps, groaning from your raw body slamming into the dirty ground, moaning from where you hit your head on the way down, you lay on the ground, shaking from pain and the cold water, cock limp on you thigh, skin dirty from the water making the dirt from the market square stick to you. you rest there for a moment but they pull the chain, with a grunt your forced to crawl onto your knees.
You kneel in pain, breathing deeply, your cock limp between your thighs and laying on the dirty ground, a soldier uses his foot to force your head down towards the ground while two others start to carry your crossbeam back to you, they grab your arms and drop the wood onto your raw back, you moan in pain as the wood presses down on your bloody skin.
they grab your arms and force them up, along the length of the wood and the loop ropes around your elbows and tighten the ropes, they ensure that the ropes are tightly bound. i see they are satisfied that your secured to the crossbeam, they let it go and stand back, you take the full weight of the wood on your lashed back, i hear you whimper with pain although you quickly bit the sound back through clenched teeth
"on your fucking feet traitor!" snarls Marco and whips you hard at the base of your back.
i watch you as you struggle to stand, watch the muscles flexing in your arms and legs as you try to take the weight, watching your push up, lifting the wood, watching your cock wiggle as you force yourself to stand,
you stand at last, your skin welted and raw, the wood balanced across your shoulders.
"MOVE!" orders Marco and i watch as bent under your crossbeam you take your first faltering step towards your crucifixion...
You are struggling now as you are led from the market square towards the town gates, bent under the crossbeam, the burden crushing you down pressing into your torn skin. Your stagger slightly under the wait but the soldiers yank you forward by the chain by the neck. Your knees are slightly bent and bowed from the weight and your cock and balls swing between your legs before the mocking crowd.
I order my slaves to lift my chair and carry me to the gates and to the place of execution, they obey and i soon pass you as you struggle on. You turn your head as my chair is carried passed, i see the pain and resentment in your eyes although you continue to keep your face calm and stoic. Sweat now drips freely from your body as you labour in the heat, it is going to be a hot day.
we pass through the gates and along the road and ahead i can see the small gathering of waiting soldiers preparing the stipes for your cross,
My slaves set down my cross where i will have a good view of the proceedings, the soldiers salute as i near them. They have ropes, a mallet and several thick iron spikes waiting for you.
Last edited by a moderator: