Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
4.
The actions of the tax Quaestor had had a paralyzing impact on the people in the Turnacum Prefectura. Particularly among the people doing business. One evening Claire’s husband got a tip that the Quaestor had also put his focus on their tax declarations. Claire and her husband realized they better would save what could be saved, and flee! Her husband had meanwhile made it safely over the Rhine, into Germania, with their savings and as much as valuables he could carry with him. He had insisted she would accompany her, he would not leave her behind, but she had stubbornly refused and insisted he would depart already. Officially, he was the owner, she was only an employee (‘secretary-dispatcher’) in the business, so she convinced him, the worst that could happen was a firm interrogation, which, she asserted him, she could handle!
Her objective was to save more assets, like recuperating her concealed share in the business. Their villa and its household effects were already longer made property of a mailbox company, registered in Hibernia, hence out of reach of the Emperor too, and she managed last minute to put a few more things out of reach of the Quaestor, by entrusting it to the same company.
It took her a day to have things fixed, with the assistance of her consultant. In the evening she got the message that her husband had arrived in Franconofurd, and she promised him she would leave in the morning as early as possible. He once more insisted she would depart immediately, but Claire said she needed some sleep first. Two hours later, the Quaestor’s arrest team stood at her bed.
The next 36 hours, Claire would have no sleep at all. She had anticipated a firm interrogation, indeed, but she had anticipated it would at least be civilized. She soon found herself however, in a cold basement of the castrum in Castrilocum, tied stark naked to a chair, confronted with rude and ruthless interrogators, who used all means to intimidate and threaten her. Touching her body, her privates, squeezing her breasts, slapping her, keeping her awake with cold water showers, while meanwhile, she had to endure a barrage of questions and accusations.
Then came female interrogators. They seemed to comfort her, attempted persuading her to cooperate. They even more touched her, apparently caressing her, but meanwhile menacing her, convincing her to cooperate with them, since the male interrogators were authorized to use even harsher methods, including rape.
“Make yourself no illusions! The fact of being a woman will not protect you! On the contrary! They can do whatever they want to do with you, whatever they desire, without limits! And we will not hold them back! Absolutely not! We will watch it!”
On the desk in front of her, incriminating evidence against her piled up. Proof of manipulated tax declarations, written in her handwriting. With the signatures of her husband and herself! There was little to deny. But meanwhile, it had become clear to the Quaestor’s interrogators, that her husband had fled to Germania with lots of valuables, and that lots of Claire’s economical and financial assets had been legally saved out of reach of the IOT jurisdiction. Beside some written-off tools and machines, and a few pieces of worthless office furniture, there would be little to confiscate! Something that made the interrogators even more angered. After she had confessed almost anything she could not deny – since the evidence lay in front of her – they kept pressing on her. It appeared more and more that the interrogation had become a purpose on its own, a sort of revenge, to vent their frustration that her both husband had escaped, and that she had arranged things in her own favour.
When she thought, there would be nothing anymore to extract from her, they confronted her with a new pile of papers :
“Explain this!?”
There was nothing to explain anymore, but the interrogators insisted. They released her from the chair, she had been sitting on for hours, without sleep, food or drink, in her own urine, and dragged her by her hair to a bench, where she was strapped on, belly down. They put a gag into her mouth, with a hollow tube, and connected it to a water hose. Then, they forced another hose into her rectum, and then they opened the water tap. First through her mouth. Within seconds, Claire fought in the straps, violently shaking, her eyes wide open. As the tap was closed and the hose disconnected, she roared and coughed, gasping to air. Just calming down, a voice said :
“From the back!”
The tap was reopened and by switching a valve the water was now led to her rectum. Again she fought against the restraining straps, with a scream of pain.
“OK! Enough!”
A woman stood in front of her. She was tall, slim, had long stiff black hair, dark eyes and a square cheek.
“Good day, Claire! My name is Livia Metella, Special Imperial Tax Quaestor! Do not look so surprised! Haven’t you never seen a woman in a public service? Bad luck for you, dear, since we women are usually tougher than our male colleagues! Because we have to proof ourselves twice as hard, AND because, if we accept that job, it is because our character is gifted by more extreme zeal!”
Claire looked up to her, too exhausted to reply. The Quaestor continued :
“They call me the she-cat, since, once I have caught my prey, I never let go, and play with it, until I get extracted from my prey what I wanted. Now, Claire, you are in my claws and I will make you regret the tricks you did! And you will pay for that cowardice husband of yours too! If he has at least an inch of a honorable man, he would take his responsibility, come home, submit to my authority and be with you to share your fate! But I doubt he will, and you shall suffer alone for the crimes of the both of you!”
The Quaestor then grabbed Claire’s hair, pulled it and looked straight into her eyes:
“You are of that Resourcers cult, right!? One of these narcissists, who think they are Serapis’ chosen ones!? Well, you better pray to Serapis that He will not let you down, when I shall have you nailed, because that’s what I am going to do with you! To a real cross, with real nails, like that so called messiah of yours! I bet, your Serapis has already abandoned you, since I have been told that the Serapis of your cult hates losers!”
Metella pulled harder at Claire’s hair. Ignoring Claire’s moaning of pain, she continued :
“We can give you more water sessions, Claire! It feels terrible, when we flush it through your mouth, isn’t it? Drowning on the dry! We can go on with that a bit! Don’t worry! Your stomach can take a bit! You will feel sick a while, afterwards, but that passes! But from the back, that’s also painful, right!? Keep in mind, Claire, that bowels are not so strong as a stomach. A bit more of this, and we wreck your bowels and your rectum! That means, you will never shit normal anymore! Anything will drop out like that! A life in diapers, and stinking all the time! No more social life! Such a terrible fate, you shall beg to get crucified! Understand!?”
Without waiting for an answer, Metella dropped Claire’s head:
“Lock her up!”
Claire got unstrapped, her head buried between her arms on the bench. Her husband would not return! Even more, during their last phone call, the evening before she had been arrested, he had expressed his worries, one moment, that she would get into trouble. At the time, she was still confident she would join him the next day, but she had told him, almost ordered him, not return, in case it would go wrong, regardless of what would happen to her. It would neither make sense for him to try to get her out of the Quaestor’s hands, nor that they both would be tried together. Although she missed him now, she really hoped he would use his common sense and stay where he was.
And concerning Serapis, she suddenly realized she had never, during her interrogation, even thought about Him, leave prayed to Him. That Quaestor woman was right! Serapis had already let her down!
As she got dragged into her cell, still all naked, she was hardly aware that her tormentors gang raped her before leaving her behind.
(to be continued)
The actions of the tax Quaestor had had a paralyzing impact on the people in the Turnacum Prefectura. Particularly among the people doing business. One evening Claire’s husband got a tip that the Quaestor had also put his focus on their tax declarations. Claire and her husband realized they better would save what could be saved, and flee! Her husband had meanwhile made it safely over the Rhine, into Germania, with their savings and as much as valuables he could carry with him. He had insisted she would accompany her, he would not leave her behind, but she had stubbornly refused and insisted he would depart already. Officially, he was the owner, she was only an employee (‘secretary-dispatcher’) in the business, so she convinced him, the worst that could happen was a firm interrogation, which, she asserted him, she could handle!
Her objective was to save more assets, like recuperating her concealed share in the business. Their villa and its household effects were already longer made property of a mailbox company, registered in Hibernia, hence out of reach of the Emperor too, and she managed last minute to put a few more things out of reach of the Quaestor, by entrusting it to the same company.
It took her a day to have things fixed, with the assistance of her consultant. In the evening she got the message that her husband had arrived in Franconofurd, and she promised him she would leave in the morning as early as possible. He once more insisted she would depart immediately, but Claire said she needed some sleep first. Two hours later, the Quaestor’s arrest team stood at her bed.
The next 36 hours, Claire would have no sleep at all. She had anticipated a firm interrogation, indeed, but she had anticipated it would at least be civilized. She soon found herself however, in a cold basement of the castrum in Castrilocum, tied stark naked to a chair, confronted with rude and ruthless interrogators, who used all means to intimidate and threaten her. Touching her body, her privates, squeezing her breasts, slapping her, keeping her awake with cold water showers, while meanwhile, she had to endure a barrage of questions and accusations.
Then came female interrogators. They seemed to comfort her, attempted persuading her to cooperate. They even more touched her, apparently caressing her, but meanwhile menacing her, convincing her to cooperate with them, since the male interrogators were authorized to use even harsher methods, including rape.
“Make yourself no illusions! The fact of being a woman will not protect you! On the contrary! They can do whatever they want to do with you, whatever they desire, without limits! And we will not hold them back! Absolutely not! We will watch it!”
On the desk in front of her, incriminating evidence against her piled up. Proof of manipulated tax declarations, written in her handwriting. With the signatures of her husband and herself! There was little to deny. But meanwhile, it had become clear to the Quaestor’s interrogators, that her husband had fled to Germania with lots of valuables, and that lots of Claire’s economical and financial assets had been legally saved out of reach of the IOT jurisdiction. Beside some written-off tools and machines, and a few pieces of worthless office furniture, there would be little to confiscate! Something that made the interrogators even more angered. After she had confessed almost anything she could not deny – since the evidence lay in front of her – they kept pressing on her. It appeared more and more that the interrogation had become a purpose on its own, a sort of revenge, to vent their frustration that her both husband had escaped, and that she had arranged things in her own favour.
When she thought, there would be nothing anymore to extract from her, they confronted her with a new pile of papers :
“Explain this!?”
There was nothing to explain anymore, but the interrogators insisted. They released her from the chair, she had been sitting on for hours, without sleep, food or drink, in her own urine, and dragged her by her hair to a bench, where she was strapped on, belly down. They put a gag into her mouth, with a hollow tube, and connected it to a water hose. Then, they forced another hose into her rectum, and then they opened the water tap. First through her mouth. Within seconds, Claire fought in the straps, violently shaking, her eyes wide open. As the tap was closed and the hose disconnected, she roared and coughed, gasping to air. Just calming down, a voice said :
“From the back!”
The tap was reopened and by switching a valve the water was now led to her rectum. Again she fought against the restraining straps, with a scream of pain.
“OK! Enough!”
A woman stood in front of her. She was tall, slim, had long stiff black hair, dark eyes and a square cheek.
“Good day, Claire! My name is Livia Metella, Special Imperial Tax Quaestor! Do not look so surprised! Haven’t you never seen a woman in a public service? Bad luck for you, dear, since we women are usually tougher than our male colleagues! Because we have to proof ourselves twice as hard, AND because, if we accept that job, it is because our character is gifted by more extreme zeal!”
Claire looked up to her, too exhausted to reply. The Quaestor continued :
“They call me the she-cat, since, once I have caught my prey, I never let go, and play with it, until I get extracted from my prey what I wanted. Now, Claire, you are in my claws and I will make you regret the tricks you did! And you will pay for that cowardice husband of yours too! If he has at least an inch of a honorable man, he would take his responsibility, come home, submit to my authority and be with you to share your fate! But I doubt he will, and you shall suffer alone for the crimes of the both of you!”
The Quaestor then grabbed Claire’s hair, pulled it and looked straight into her eyes:
“You are of that Resourcers cult, right!? One of these narcissists, who think they are Serapis’ chosen ones!? Well, you better pray to Serapis that He will not let you down, when I shall have you nailed, because that’s what I am going to do with you! To a real cross, with real nails, like that so called messiah of yours! I bet, your Serapis has already abandoned you, since I have been told that the Serapis of your cult hates losers!”
Metella pulled harder at Claire’s hair. Ignoring Claire’s moaning of pain, she continued :
“We can give you more water sessions, Claire! It feels terrible, when we flush it through your mouth, isn’t it? Drowning on the dry! We can go on with that a bit! Don’t worry! Your stomach can take a bit! You will feel sick a while, afterwards, but that passes! But from the back, that’s also painful, right!? Keep in mind, Claire, that bowels are not so strong as a stomach. A bit more of this, and we wreck your bowels and your rectum! That means, you will never shit normal anymore! Anything will drop out like that! A life in diapers, and stinking all the time! No more social life! Such a terrible fate, you shall beg to get crucified! Understand!?”
Without waiting for an answer, Metella dropped Claire’s head:
“Lock her up!”
Claire got unstrapped, her head buried between her arms on the bench. Her husband would not return! Even more, during their last phone call, the evening before she had been arrested, he had expressed his worries, one moment, that she would get into trouble. At the time, she was still confident she would join him the next day, but she had told him, almost ordered him, not return, in case it would go wrong, regardless of what would happen to her. It would neither make sense for him to try to get her out of the Quaestor’s hands, nor that they both would be tried together. Although she missed him now, she really hoped he would use his common sense and stay where he was.
And concerning Serapis, she suddenly realized she had never, during her interrogation, even thought about Him, leave prayed to Him. That Quaestor woman was right! Serapis had already let her down!
As she got dragged into her cell, still all naked, she was hardly aware that her tormentors gang raped her before leaving her behind.
(to be continued)