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The Fate of a Goth Girl

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Preparation being complete, the hammer falls?

Quintus gestured to the two of his men who had won at alia icta (toss of the dice) and were thereby entitled to the prime positions. They came forward and kneeled, each astride one of Barb's thighs to keep her from moving too much during the nailing. This favored location gave them an up-close and intimate view of her curvy body and ensured that the powerful jerks of the thigh muscles, when the nails were pounded in, would be sure to give an erotic massage to their masculine appendages.
The Decanus held his hammer before the girl’s face. A duo librae (two Roman pounds, 24 English ounces, 0.7 KG) iron head on a sedecim uncias (sixteen inch) dark oak handle, the hammer had more than enough heft to drive the spike deep into thick, hard wood. Barb shivered at the sight. The brute force symbolized by the heavy hammer reinforced the threat of the nails. Quintus knelt by her right wrist, tied securely to the patibulum.

As the horrific moment of the nailing came so near, all in the crowd were mesmerized by the sight in the middle of the arena.
Four of the seven in Quintus' contubernium were tirones (new recruits) who had never been in battle or seen blood. Two of these eagerly looked on, but the other two felt almost sick. The three veterans had mixed feelings but hid any queasiness in a show of masculine bravado.
Most of the spectators in the caveae (stands) were anxious for the torture, the squeamish having already left.
In the Imperial Box, the Praeses looked on, not happily, but well used to seeing terrible tortures and deaths. His son was almost hopping up and down with excitement and giving little squeals of pleasure. The others were mostly unenthusiastic, though not particularly disturbed, except Tertius, who had been praying for some way to rescue the girl he loved. Friþugairns wept and moaned, his embarrassing erection at last wilted. Calixtus stared straight at his men, overseeing the efficiency of their work while betraying absolutely no emotion.

Decanus Quintus, Equus, took one of the spikes in his right hand and lined up the point in the center of Barbaria's wrist just below the hand bones. The placement was crucial to avoid the bones of the forearm and the major arteries (if one was pierced, it could be bound-up, but would invariably hemorrhage enough blood to shorten the girl's time significantly on the cross.) He looked to the more experienced Optio, who nodded approval.
The arena in total silence, Equus turned back, raised the heavy hammer in his left hand, and then brought it down in a quick, precise arc toward the nailhead.
 
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Praefectus Praetorio said:
This favored location gave them an up-close and intimate view of her curvy body and ensured that the powerful jerks of the thigh muscles, when the nails were pounded in, would be sure to give an erotic massage to their masculine appendages.
Click to expand...
Now THAT’s an original line. Don’t believe I’ve ever seen that described in a Crux story before. Possible? I suppose so. Guys can come up with all kinds of innovative ways to get their jollies, I guess.
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
The arena in total silence, Equus turned back, raised the heavy hammer in his left hand, and then brought it down in a quick, precise arc toward the nailhead.
Click to expand...
Anyone else here old enough to remember the ending Mark VII credit in Dragnet? It seems appropriate at this moment.
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
Preparation being complete, the hammer falls?

Quintus gestured to the two of his men who had won at alia icta (toss of the dice) and were thereby entitled to the prime positions. They came forward and kneeled, each astride one of Barb's thighs to keep her from moving too much during the nailing. This favored location gave them an up-close and intimate view of her curvy body and ensured that the powerful jerks of the thigh muscles, when the nails were pounded in, would be sure to give an erotic massage to their masculine appendages.
The Decanus held his hammer before the girl’s face. A duo librae (two Roman pounds, 24 English ounces, 0.7 KG) iron head on a sedecim uncias (sixteen inch) dark oak handle, the hammer had more than enough heft to drive the spike deep into thick, hard wood. Barb shivered at the sight. The brute force symbolized by the heavy hammer reinforced the threat of the nails. Quintus knelt by her right wrist, tied securely to the patibulum.

As the horrific moment of the nailing came so near, all in the crowd were mesmerized by the sight in the middle of the arena.
Four of the seven in Quintus' contubernium were tirones (new recruits) who had never been in battle or seen blood. Two of these eagerly looked on, but the other two felt almost sick. The three veterans had mixed feelings but hid any queasiness in a show of masculine bravado.
Most of the spectators in the caveae (stands) were anxious for the torture, the squeamish having already left.
In the Imperial Box, the Praeses looked on, not happily, but well used to seeing terrible tortures and deaths. His son was almost hopping up and down with excitement and giving little squeals of pleasure. The others were mostly unenthusiastic, though not particularly disturbed, except Tertius, who had been praying for some way to rescue the girl he loved. Friþugairns wept and moaned, his embarrassing erection at last wilted. Calixtus stared straight at his men, overseeing the efficiency of their work while betraying absolutely no emotion.

Decanus Quintus, Equus, took one of the spikes in his right hand and lined up the point in the center of Barbaria's wrist just below the hand bones. The placement was crucial to avoid the bones of the forearm and the major arteries (if one was pierced, it could be bound-up, but would invariably hemorrhage enough blood to shorten the girl's time significantly on the cross.) He looked to the more experienced Optio, who nodded approval.
The arena in total silence, Equus turned back, raised the heavy hammer in his left hand, and then brought it down in a quick, precise arc toward the nailhead.
Click to expand...
"... ensured that the powerful jerks of the thigh muscles, when the nails were pounded in, would be sure to give an erotic massage to their masculine appendages ..." - Forced to give a dual 'thigh-job' whilst being nailed to a cross! I didn't think that crucifixion could get anymore agonisingly humiliating, but I was wrong. Excellent stuff!
 
All eyes were on the Decanus and the whole amphitheater was almost quiet enough to hear a pin drop as the hammer came down aiming to hit the head of the nail.

Quintus's aim was true, and a crisp, clean clink of metal on metal reverberated throughout the acoustically designed space. The spike, well placed and aimed, followed the intended path. It avoided bone and arteries and cut easily through the muscles and nerves of her wrist to force the first half uncia to emerge on the bottom and lodge against the wood of the patibulum. For a long moment, as the echo of the ring died down, the crowd remained quiet. The ring of the hammer showed that the crucifixion of the Goth beauty was beginning and the knowledge that the irreversible damage of her arms being nailed to the cross was now started, stunned even the most jaded in the audience.
Then a high squeaky voice rang out from the Imperial Box, "Fuck Yes! Lupa Clavitur (the bitch is nailed!) (Burp!)."
As if on cue, the whole assembly began cheering.

Lying on her back on the ground, Barbaria had been sweating heavily in the baking rays of the sun in the oppressive afternoon heat. Exhausted from two days of brutal captivity and twenty-four hours of continuous abuse and torture, she seemed to have no strength left to resist the terrible fate facing her. The continued agony of her flayed back seemed unbearable. She tried to remember the bravery and stoic resistance of her people in their long struggles to find a new homeland in Europe. But she lost all such resolve when she saw the cruel spikes.
The Goth told herself to look away and fix her mind on something else. But, somehow, the dark iron rod, with its end sharpened to penetrate even dense wood, riveted her attention. Her eyes focused on it while the Decanus carefully aligned it over her wrist. She tried to pull free, but her bonds, whose attachment had been closely supervised by that hateful Optio, were tight and allowed no movement. Like a mouse frozen in the gaze of a cobra, Barbaria then followed the hammer through its rise and fall until it impacted the nail head and drove the pointed iron deep into her wrist. For just a fraction of a second, it all seemed unreal, as if she was viewing something happening to someone else.
But after that fleeting millisecond, an electric spark of nerve pain rocketed down her arm, through her shoulder and neck, and up into the deepest recesses of her brain. Pain! Pain, as this girl had never experienced or even imagined in her whole life, exploded in her body and mind! The involuntary response of her muscles caused her to thrust her hips and belly violently upward while gasping air into her chest. Sweat flowed from every pore.

The two soldiers straddling her thighs were rewarded far beyond their expectations by her flexing thigh muscles and the erotic surge of her hips.
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
Like a mouse frozen in the gaze of a cobra, Barbaria then followed the hammer through its rise and fall until it impacted the nail head and drove the pointed iron deep into her wrist. For just a fraction of a second, it all seemed unreal, as if she was viewing something happening to someone else.
Click to expand...
PrPr succeeds here in capturing that fateful moment so powerfully.
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
All eyes were on the Decanus and the whole amphitheater was almost quiet enough to hear a pin drop as the hammer came down aiming to hit the head of the nail.

Quintus's aim was true, and a crisp, clean clink of metal on metal reverberated throughout the acoustically designed space. The spike, well placed and aimed, followed the intended path. It avoided bone and arteries and cut easily through the muscles and nerves of her wrist to force the first half uncia to emerge on the bottom and lodge against the wood of the patibulum. For a long moment, as the echo of the ring died down, the crowd remained quiet. The ring of the hammer showed that the crucifixion of the Goth beauty was beginning and the knowledge that the irreversible damage of her arms being nailed to the cross was now started, stunned even the most jaded in the audience.
Then a high squeaky voice rang out from the Imperial Box, "Fuck Yes! Lupa Clavitur (the bitch is nailed!) (Burp!)."
As if on cue, the whole assembly began cheering.

Lying on her back on the ground, Barbaria had been sweating heavily in the baking rays of the sun in the oppressive afternoon heat. Exhausted from two days of brutal captivity and twenty-four hours of continuous abuse and torture, she seemed to have no strength left to resist the terrible fate facing her. The continued agony of her flayed back seemed unbearable. She tried to remember the bravery and stoic resistance of her people in their long struggles to find a new homeland in Europe. But she lost all such resolve when she saw the cruel spikes.
The Goth told herself to look away and fix her mind on something else. But, somehow, the dark iron rod, with its end sharpened to penetrate even dense wood, riveted her attention. Her eyes focused on it while the Decanus carefully aligned it over her wrist. She tried to pull free, but her bonds, whose attachment had been closely supervised by that hateful Optio, were tight and allowed no movement. Like a mouse frozen in the gaze of a cobra, Barbaria then followed the hammer through its rise and fall until it impacted the nail head and drove the pointed iron deep into her wrist. For just a fraction of a second, it all seemed unreal, as if she was viewing something happening to someone else.
But after that fleeting millisecond, an electric spark of nerve pain rocketed down her arm, through her shoulder and neck, and up into the deepest recesses of her brain. Pain! Pain, as this girl had never experienced or even imagined in her whole life, exploded in her body and mind! The involuntary response of her muscles caused her to thrust her hips and belly violently upward while gasping air into her chest. Sweat flowed from every pore.

The two soldiers straddling her thighs were rewarded far beyond their expectations by her flexing thigh muscles and the erotic surge of her hips.
Click to expand...
"Like a mouse frozen in the gaze of a cobra" - now that's evocative! Still loving the thigh job too :)
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
All eyes were on the Decanus and the whole amphitheater was almost quiet enough to hear a pin drop as the hammer came down aiming to hit the head of the nail.

Quintus's aim was true, and a crisp, clean clink of metal on metal reverberated throughout the acoustically designed space. The spike, well placed and aimed, followed the intended path. It avoided bone and arteries and cut easily through the muscles and nerves of her wrist to force the first half uncia to emerge on the bottom and lodge against the wood of the patibulum. For a long moment, as the echo of the ring died down, the crowd remained quiet. The ring of the hammer showed that the crucifixion of the Goth beauty was beginning and the knowledge that the irreversible damage of her arms being nailed to the cross was now started, stunned even the most jaded in the audience.
Then a high squeaky voice rang out from the Imperial Box, "Fuck Yes! Lupa Clavitur (the bitch is nailed!) (Burp!)."
As if on cue, the whole assembly began cheering.

Lying on her back on the ground, Barbaria had been sweating heavily in the baking rays of the sun in the oppressive afternoon heat. Exhausted from two days of brutal captivity and twenty-four hours of continuous abuse and torture, she seemed to have no strength left to resist the terrible fate facing her. The continued agony of her flayed back seemed unbearable. She tried to remember the bravery and stoic resistance of her people in their long struggles to find a new homeland in Europe. But she lost all such resolve when she saw the cruel spikes.
The Goth told herself to look away and fix her mind on something else. But, somehow, the dark iron rod, with its end sharpened to penetrate even dense wood, riveted her attention. Her eyes focused on it while the Decanus carefully aligned it over her wrist. She tried to pull free, but her bonds, whose attachment had been closely supervised by that hateful Optio, were tight and allowed no movement. Like a mouse frozen in the gaze of a cobra, Barbaria then followed the hammer through its rise and fall until it impacted the nail head and drove the pointed iron deep into her wrist. For just a fraction of a second, it all seemed unreal, as if she was viewing something happening to someone else.
But after that fleeting millisecond, an electric spark of nerve pain rocketed down her arm, through her shoulder and neck, and up into the deepest recesses of her brain. Pain! Pain, as this girl had never experienced or even imagined in her whole life, exploded in her body and mind! The involuntary response of her muscles caused her to thrust her hips and belly violently upward while gasping air into her chest. Sweat flowed from every pore.

The two soldiers straddling her thighs were rewarded far beyond their expectations by her flexing thigh muscles and the erotic surge of her hips.
Click to expand...
The Beginning of the End...Magnificent chapter in its horror and inevitability. Nothing more to say (and don't need to).
 
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