The female executioner for Numerus Brittonum et Exploratorum Nemanigensium

[cire]

IN THE MORNING, MESSALINE AND LOXURU ARE SENTENCED TO BE EXECUTED BY DENA:

I was sleeping not too well during the night. When I came back to the fort in the evening, I prepared the whips for the next day. Checked the lashes, ropes, nails, the hammer, for any case my Gladius, to be on the safe side.

Then I fell asleep. I was dreaming how I was trained, how the legionaires tought me all the tasks in detail, and how I gained strength. To my surprise I was dreaming about the crucifixion that I have attended during the day. In my dream I could still hear the dying scream, course and bitch on their crosses. Over and over the nails were driven into the flesh and through the bones of Andrea and Cire in that nightmare, then the noise at the fort is waking me up.
Jumping out off my bed, I long for my weapon and the bag with my instruments of torture.

Next I'm on my way directly to the atrium. Quite some people are here already, the twenty guards that will escort the execution and lend a hand with the crucifixion are coming in, too. Hectorius is grabbing me by the arm, and I'm asking him astonished:

"Aren't you supposed to be off today?"

His reply:

"Of course Dena, but Aurelian has charged that I shall support you a little during the day. We decided to kill the victims that got crucified yesterday, and went to the tavern because we were invited."

That makes me feel secure. We got a good team together and with Hectorius in reserve, it will be very exciting.
Then the two delinquents are pushed into the center of the atrium, standing with the pole in their backs in the center, facing Aurelians chair. He's walking in, sits down and starts to talk:

"We have arrested two wrongdoers Messaline, a Celtic woman from Gaul, and Loxuru from a German tribe. They have agitated against Rome. Such behaviour can not be tolerated. Do you have something to say to defend yourself?"

Messaline:

"I just have been traveling with this man for some days, that is all. When he was agitating in the taverns, I was sleeping. All I know is that he is some poet."

"And you," pointing at Loxuru:

"Of course do I argue for a free Germania. But I'm not using wapons, I'm just using words. I'm a poet."

Murmur and laughter went through the crowd, then Aurelian is speaking again:

"Since there is only one Emperor and only one Rome both of you will be flogged immediately, and afterwards marched out to be crucified. Also will the female slave Lucia be flogged and crucified along with you. Her owner decided to have her killed. All of you will be exposed on your crosses as a warning. Obviously I'm not a poet, but I hope you understood my words. If not it doesn't matter, the executioner and the guards will direct you with deeds."

 

[messaline]

Messaline :

I was not well sleeping into their prison where Loxuru and I were confined for the night ...
I was shivering , was it the fear or was it the cold ? When they captured us into the tavern, I was only wearing my short tunic and I let my travel'mantle at the tavern where I was taking some fun in listening this German bard Loxuru ...Tomorow, we'll be introduce to the governor and no doubt that he'll realize the error of his soldiers ...

​

 

[Loxuru]

Loxuru :

“The Empire stood at the edge of abyss! But thanks to the new Emperor, it has made a big leap forward!”

Laughter!

“The Emperor gathered his slaves for a roll call! Suddenly, one of them sneezed. The Emperor shouted : ‘who did sneezed!?’ Identify yourself!. But no one dared to answer. ‘Praetorian guards! Get the first row! Strip them and crucifiy them! All of them!’ As the slaves had been crucified, the Emperor repeated his question : ‘who sneezed!?’ No answer, still. ‘Praetorian guards! Crucifiy the next row!’. After the order had been carried out, the Emperor asked again : ‘Who sneezed!?’. Then, an old slave replied : ‘I did, Mylord!’. The Emperor looked at him and said : ‘Blessings!’”

Laughter!

Officially, I am a poet, a bard! Yes, I have been instructed in the arts of music and philosophy, by skilled masters, in Colonia Agrippina and Atuatuca Tongrorum! Afterwards, I have been touring, either with a troupe or alone, in the area comprised between Colonia, Atuatuca and Augusta Trerevorum , but I have also been in places like Lutetia, and even as far as Lugdunum. My repertory was a mixture of poetry, recited or sung, and stand-up comedy and jokes. A lot of it targeted the Romans and the emperor. I had quite success with it, but I knew it was not without danger for myself. Yet, I could not help it! Being rebellious was part of my character. And I had a cause to rebel for! Roman rule over Germania!

Rome does not keep its promises! Rome keeps treating Germania as a sort of colony. Rome keeps robbing our resources. Rome steals our gold, our salt, our best wine grapes. Rome steals our best arable land and gives it to clients of the emperor, who employ the local population for hard work in conditions that nearly equal slavery! Rome steals our strongest human resources. Germanic young men have always been wanted in the legions, because of their discipline, bravery, endurance and fighting spirit. But as volunteers, who accepted being away from home for many years, to be sent into campaigns far away, and risking to get killed. But when they returned, they were granted bonusses and Roman citizenship. And whatever one approves their choice to fight for Rome or not, at least they had earned their reward.

But now Rome, with the help of local civil servants, who bow for financial favours, force men into the army. If they refuse, they get enslaved. And since they are not volunteers, they are not rewarded with citizenship at the end. The same civil servants have helped Romans, to invade villages, round up all able men and women, and press them into forced labour. It is said to be ‘tax’, to be paid for the protection by Roman Legions against invasion of ‘Barbarians’, a myth that always appeals to some, enough to make them justify these violations of our freedom.

But on the other hand, from the viewpoint of far away Rome, it rather must be ‘all is quiet on the limes’. After all, they stationed only second or third rate auxiliary troops here. A bunch of Britons, badly disciplined, eager for a fight, mostly drunk, and hence feared for the terror they often inflict, rather for their own fun than for enforcing public order. Their Roman commanding officers aren’t any better. Mostly elder men, whose career lays behind them, no more prospect of promotion, often a with a record of demotions and other sanctions, for incompetence and for different kinds of misconduct. They got stationed here, awaiting their retirement. In case of an invasion, these troops would be meaningless. Fortunately, there is a live and let live regime with the tribes across the limes.

Stationed in their castellum, the legionaries rather take up the role of border security, customs and law enforcement. Concerning the last, they play it the hard way : zero tolerance! Of course, no robbery without a robber, and in the dark woods, there is often opportunity. But the Romans make it easy for themselves, the officers often being law enforcer and judge all alike. Trials are a mockery, even to Roman standards, and guilty by suspicion is the rule, particularly when the accused is a slave or a non-citizen, or when the plaintiff is a Roman. Neither is there differentiation in the sentence. Although some lucky ones get away with just a flogging, public crucifixion is the rule.

Underway, I met a woman from Gaul, named Messaline. She was underway along the limes too. Messaline told me about troubles in her native country. The praefect in Lutetia had raised taxes, particularly tolls on Roman roads. These taxes did hardly affect the wealthy Lutetians, but on the contrary did to the people in the countryside provinces, whose economy depended on supplying the capital by these roads. It had led to protests and even local rebellion. Protesters in the countryside, nicknamed ‘tunicae flavo’, after the way they gathered during their protest, blocked the roads to the cities. With approval from Rome, the praefect had ordered troops to slay the rebellion. The harsh repression, particularly in Armorica and the adjoining regions, where entire villages had been crucified or sold into slavery, had caused even more anger among the population.

Although Messaline had not talked a lot about her possible involvement in the rebellion, it appeared to me that she was on the run for the repression too.
No, Messaline talked mostly about Judith, a woman which she had left behind in Gaul, and which apparently meant more than a lot for her, emotionally. The chaos of the rebellion must have separated them, and being unaware of Judith’s fate, Messaline was deeply worried.

We had agreed to travel together. Crossing the forests of Germania was not without risk. I already mentioned the dangers of robbery. In the areas close to the limes, there is another peril : patrols. Those third rate punks stationed in the castella often go on patrol half drunk, abusing their power on lonely travelers, not eschewing intimidation, robbery and rape.

I had introduced myself in accordance with the official reason for my travel : bringing entertainment. The concealed part, contacting and gathering information about the preparedness of the people for rebellion, I did not mention to her. I also was aware not to involve her into it.

Meanwhile, I performed my entertainment program. I took care not to tell my political jokes in front of a Roman audience, only for local people in the villages, and I made these performances in the local Germanic language. When informing about the local mood towards the Romans, I also took care to use Germanic.

Nevertheless, there must have been some suspicion towards me. Clearly, the Romans had sent spies to my performances. My political jokes and poetry had been interpreted as ‘agitation against Rome’.

That evening, in a tavern near a castellum at the Main limes, I was giving a performance. It was fun, the audience was good! Messaline, who was there too, clearly enjoyed it! I was glad to do something to let her forget her worries for an evening. But suddenly the door of the tavern was opened brutally. A bunch of auxiliaries stormed in, and arrested me and Messaline. We were brought to the officer on duty in the castellum, who told us we were accused of agitation against Rome, which was ‘a serious crime!’ Tomorrow, we would be judged by the local governor. Messaline heavily protested, loudly claiming that our arrest and the accusations were an error! But the officer ordered her to be thrown into cells in the castellum.

Confronted with facts, apparently from ‘anonymous’ witnesses, that I had been telling political jokes on several occasions, thereby using agitating language against Rome and the emperor, I had little argument to deny. Although I tried to convince the Roman officer that Messaline was just a co-traveler I had accompanied though the dangerous woods, and that she had nothing to do with my so-called agitation, he found her guilty by association. Furthermore, the officer had questions about what a solitary woman from western Gaul was doing here, traveling alone so far from home, while, coincidentally, coming from a region, where a rebellion had been oppressed. This could only mean she was on the run for, what he called, justice! Then he had me locked up either.
I did not sleep well in the cell. This was it, I thought. Friends had warned me, I would sooner or later come into trouble with my political jokes and the ambiguity of my poetry, hardly hiding agitation against Rome. Sooner or later, I would face a public flogging for doing so! Tomorrow, it would likely happen! How many? Twenty? Thirty? Would they subject Messaline to the same punishment? That would be unfair, because towards her, there was only a vague suspicion, based on very, very thin circumstantial evidence. I hoped they would dismiss her, since such floggings are not only harsh, they are carried out in public, on the stark naked body of the convict, making the sanction very humiliating too, as the condemned is also exposed to the mockery of the people. I felt uneasy that my proposal to accompany her, because of the dangers in the woods, had brought her into trouble now because of my activity!
Later that evening, I heard another woman being brought in. She was a slave, I understood, that she had displeased her master. Before she was thrown into her cell, she was raped several times by the – once more – drunk British auxiliaries.

Our trial came soon. The next morning, we were taken out of our cells, and brought to an atrium. There was one annoying fact, since we were ordered to carry a pole in our neck! A strange Roman habit to have the condemned carry their flogging pole? Yet ,the poles had clearly holes of nailing near its both extremities, and in the middle, there had been a hole carved in it.

Messaline and me were pushed into the center of the atrium, facing the judge’s chair. He walked in, sat down and started to talk:

"We have arrested two wrongdoers Messaline, a Celtic woman from Gaul, and Loxuru from a German tribe. They have agitated against Rome. Such behaviour cannot be tolerated. Do you have something to say to defend yourself?"

Messaline:

"I just have been traveling with this man for some days, that is all. When he was agitating in the taverns, I was sleeping. All I know is that he is some poet."

"And you," pointing at me.

"Of course do I argue for a free Germania. But I'm not using weapons, I'm just using words. I'm a poet."

Murmur and laughter went through the crowd, then the judge spoke again:

"Since there is only one Emperor and only one Rome both of you will be flogged immediately, and afterwards marched out to be crucified. Also will the female slave Lucia be flogged and crucified along with you. Her owner decided to have her killed. All of you will be exposed on your crosses as a warning. Obviously I'm not a poet, but I hope you understood my words. If not it doesn't matter, the executioner and the guards will direct you with deeds."

Did he say ‘crucified’!?

 

[messaline]

...you will be flogged immediately, and afterwards marched out to be crucified...

What he said ? Naked whipped and crucified ?!
Only for having followed a german bard ?
How can you tell that I'm guilty and condemn me to the worst supplice for only having been a little "dump" and to be conducted in your prison ?
Oooooh, loxuru , you were not fair with me , you'd not told me that you could be a dangerous man !
And now, will the soldiers rape me, will they profit of my naked body to invade all my holes and let into them their warm semen ?!!!
Judith, can you not come to save me ?

​

 

[piraland]

What he said ? Naked whipped and crucified ?!
Only for having followed a german bard ?
How can you tell that I'm guilty and condemn me to the worst supplice for only having been a little "dump" and to be conducted in your prison ?
Oooooh, loxuru , you were not fair with me , you'd not told me that you could be a dangerous man !
And now, will the soldiers rape me, will they profit of my naked body to invade all my holes and let into them their warm semen ?!!!
Judith, can you not come to save me ?

View attachment 734388​

We must always be wary of bad encounters ...

 

[Loxuru]

Oooooh, loxuru , you were not fair with me , you'd not told me that you could be a dangerous man !

We must always be wary of bad encounters ...

Next time, I'll introduce myself : "I am Loxuru from the resistance!"
Does not sound smart, don't you think so?

 

[cire]

DENA:

LOXURU'S FLOGGING

I can't believe it. My former owner is leading Lucia into the atrium. A woman from the North African provinces, that once has been purchased at one of the slave markets in the area by my former owner. Intrigues, lies, sex, prostitution are, amongst others things, some of her favorite characteristics.
She gave everybody hell, and me lots of trouble. I haven't forgotten that I got whipped because of her.

She really knows all kinda tricks, here she is standing in front of me:

"Dena, tell our owner how good I am, and ask him to may save my life"

My reply:

"You know what I'm here for. The decisions have been made."

I turn to Messaline and Loxuru, held by the guards:

"See, this is Lucia. She will be punished along with you. I give her the chance to watch what will be done to her. Loxuru the wrongdoer will be flogged first, and then you Messaline. Let me strip him, then tie his hands behind his back to the pole."

Two guards force Loxuru, still holding him by his arms, with his ass to the about one meter high solid pole. Meanwhile in the corner, guards are carrying three crossbeams into the atrium.

To me it feels really good to be in total control of the whole situation. I step in front of him, grab his tunic and tear it off. He can't cover his penis with his hands, and has to stand naked in front of the audience. Immediately the guards force his arms behind the back and tie them to the metal ring on top of the pole.
Loxuru has to arch back some, since his hands got pulled down to the pole. The anus over the pole's top some, the skin of the front of his torso gets the perfect tension for my work.

I take my whips out of my bag and expose the instruments on a small table. There is my two regular bullwhips, one with 1 strong long lash, and also a lighter version. Then a whip with 5 short regular leather lashes and finally my Flagrum. As I take out the Flagrum, I can see the horror in the eyes of the condemned. Metal pieces, small bones, even small glas fragments are artfully worked into the 7 lashes. This instrument of torture is actually used, when a condemned is flogged to death. I really enjoy it. Doesn't it take a lot of experience to flog a person with it, without tearing the condemned apart very fast. The material worked into the lashes easily cuts down to the ribs of the condemned, or opens up hips, knees, shoulders and shins.

Messaline and Lucia are kept by the guards in a little distance, though no doubt, they've got the premium view. I want them to experience the full horror.

More and more people shuffle in. The landowner has advised his household to attend the execution of Lucia. Obviously he does not want any of the unrest again, that the opulent north african woman has spread amongst his people.


Knowing that the whipping will be some exhausting work for me, I take off my shirt and lay it on the table. My generous breasts are slightly covered and fixed by a small strip of black cloth. It will allow me to have maximum freedom. Thus my boobs won't swing too serious while I go by my business, and my body won't heat up that fast. Other than that, like the Legionaires, I wear the same robust sandals, and an apron made out of leather over my loincloth. I'm pretty sure, that at least the condemned and Loxuru can see that my nipples harden and become apparent. It's so exciting and arousing to me, to have all that power. It feels so good to me to dominate. The only thing that hurts right now is, that I can't flog Lucia to death. Well.

I choose the whip with the 5 lashes and step in front of Loxuru's left side. Without warning I carry out the first stroke over his right shoulder and upper arm. That first crack of the whip is causing a good roar of the mob. The agitator instinctively tries to get out of the whip's way, and wants to escape me as good as possible. That makes him a grotesque figure. He has stepped a little forward with his right leg to turn his dangling penis and balls away from me. As tought during the training I wait some seconds, to see what the power that I have used is doing to his taut skin. The 5 lashes caused it to burst very fine, that is exactly what I wanted. Little streams of blood are exiting the fine cuts. Staying on his right side, I hit him on his chest, accidently cutting into his areola and nipple. Still he doesn't scream, but starts to sweat heavily. A few inches deeper I place the next lash, causing him to breath stertorously. By now the crowd is laughing already.

Screaming things like:

"It seems like she is giving you a hard time. Why are you looking away so ashamed?"

The next crack of the whip covers his stomach and one of the lashes goes across his penis, he has to urinate and starts to scream. According to the roman code of practice, the genitals are normally not flogged. I have to concentrate, that I don't hurt him too much. The pattern of the lashes have turned the skin of the right side of his torso into one shining red surface. I wait until he is finished to urinate and step up to him:

"When you behave well on your march and during your execution, I will stay with this whip. Believe me, if you give me trouble on the way to the execution site, I will rip you open with the Flagrum and order the guards to drag or carry you to your execution. What I do to you right now, can also be just some easy beginning."

While saying that, I turn around to the silently watching condemned women.

Sweat is running down between my tits, and down my ass as I hit him on his thighs, knees and finally his shin. The black band of fabric fixing my tits is all wet, everybody at the site can enjoy my nipples.

Then lashes to the front of his right side, then I step over to work my way down his left, similar. I already extended the intervals between the lashes, since Aurelian wouldn't be pleased if my victim faints too soon. The guards have by now also carried in some buckets of cold water and drinking tubes containing posca. I let Loxuru have a good sip of the wine-vinegar mix to then step behind him.

From the front he already appears like a screaming lump of meat with a penis and testicles. Again I start at the right side, to hit his back and shoulder. He tries screaming to escape forward. Very nice. The third lash to the back cuts into his ass and hip, causing him to defecate. Diarrhoe is merging in the sand with blood and sweat, while I hit his right thigh and calve.

"Have some more posca. It will ease the dying a little."

Again I give him to drink before he receives the 5 lashes to the left of his rear from me.

On his knees, face to the ground, at the end of his flogging he faints.
The guards untie the ropes, drag him to the side, pile up his clothes in his reach, dump a bucket of water at him, bringing him back to life. Good, he seems to be alright.

I walk over to Messaline, grab her by her tunic and pull her violently to the pole......

 

[Loxuru]

Loxuru :

At first, I could not believe what I heard! Crucified? I just got condemned to the cross! For a moment the whole world seemed fading away. Then I heard a shouting. It was Messaline. She was also completely overwhelmed by the verdict! Reproachfully, she yelled at me that I had not been fair to her, because I had not told her that I was a ‘dangerous’ man! Come on! That would have been absurd! But I did not see the point of replying to her! It did not matter anymore, right!? And upset as she was, I doubted she would have listened to me anyway! She cried for help, help from Judith. I felt sorry for her! And I felt anger, since it had become clear to me that this had been a mock trial. The verdict was already decided before we could defend ourselves. It became even more clear, when a legionnaire, a red hair Britton, missing three quarter of his teeth, grabbed my arm, and, through a alcohol soaked breath, said to me :
“Hey, poetry man, you are a lucky bastard!”
“Oh really?” I said, trying to evade that terrible smell.
“Yeah! See that woman there!?”

He pointed to a tall, well-shaped woman, of a Germanic type, dressed in a shirt and a leather apron, wearing robust sandals, like a legionary.
“Ain’t she pretty!? Be kind to her when you meet her! She will be your executioner, poet!”
“A woman executioner!?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes, poet man, she is! You will have the honor to be the first man in Germania to be crucified by a woman! Fits a poet, huh!? Your crucifixion will be a real cultural event! And you know what!? She just finished her apprenticeship! The three of you will be her first clients! I hope for you she masters her skills already well, otherwise it could be bad times over bad times for you!”

Was he trying to scare me? Anyway, the presence of an executioner at a trial! No better proof that it was a mockery of justice! Had it sense to protest? There would be little time, since the verdict would be executed immediately!

There was little time! That executor woman, since that’s what she was indeed, stepped to Messaline and me with the third condemned.
"See, this is Lucia. She will be punished along with you. I give her the chance to watch what will be done to her. Loxuru the wrongdoer will be flogged first, and then you Messaline. Let me strip him, then tie his hands behind his back to the pole."

Before I could reply : “I did not do wrong!”, two guards forced me, still holding me by my arms, to a low pole.
The woman executioner stepped in front of me, grabbed my tunic and tore it off in one move, while the guards forced my arms behind my back and tied them to the metal ring on top of the pole.

I stood forcedly in an uneasy position, since my hands got pulled down to the pole, making me arch backward, loins arching forward, naked, completely exposed to the crowd. I tried to search a more protected position, but that did not work. I tried to avoid looks, but I could not avoid hearing the laughing and taunting of the onlookers.

“What’s the matter, poetry man? Stage fear!?” The red haired soldier said, mockingly. “Give us some show! I bet you never had such a large and enthusiastic audience!”

I also feared that my front side would make an excellent target for the flogging! That woman executioner thought the same about it, judging from her approving looks to my exposed naked body!

Then she took her instruments out of her bag. Inspecting each of it, while throwing a vicious look at me! I almost got the shit out of me, when she showed up her Flagrum, a seven tailed lash with sharp metal, bone and glass attached to each tail. She hesitated a little bit, but finally, she picked out a five tailed whip with simple leather lashes. Would you believe, at that moment, I felt thankful to her?

As a last preparation, she took out her shirt, leaving her torso only covered by a black band of cloth over her – generous - breasts. Like men would do when they were about to take up heavy work. Heavy work! With me as the subject to be worked upon! She threw a last look to Messaline and Lucia, kept by the guards at a little distance from me, drawing my looks to them too. They stood watching horrified. My mind uttered an unspoken ‘help me!’, knowing that such was an illusion! No, let’s not fail! I made up my mind those Romans will not get me down that easy! Naked or not! For our liberty, and for Messa and Lucia, to give them at least a little bit of courage!

As the executioner walked up to me, my looks were fixed on her. The nearer she came, her eyes got brighter! I noticed some excitement in her body language! She clearly enjoyed the prospect of flogging a naked, tied man. Yet, even over all my fear, the view of her excited looks, her dominating attitude, her nearly bare torso over her leather apron… sent a rush of excitement through all my body…

Without a word, she immediately made a stroke over my right shoulder and upper arm. I tried to evade the stroke, but the way I stood tied, made that almost impossible. Instinctively I had tried to turn my back to her, as far as I could, fearing for a stroke straight on my genitals! That first crack of the whip caused a feeling of stinging burn where the leather had hit me. She waited a few seconds before the next stroke. That came down on my chest, exposed due to my backward arching, causing a hell of a pain around my nipples. Still, I fought screaming, but the effort to suppress the pain made me sweat heavily.

The next one hit a few inches lower, smashing all the air out of my lungs. I gasped to breath, making me sweating even harder!
She waited until I breathed normally again. So I got aware of my surroundings. I saw Messaline and Lucia, forced to watch what would be soon inflicted to themselves! I noticed the crowd. I heard their taunting.
“Poet! Dance for us!”
“Sing louder, man! We cannot hear you!”

I tried to ignore them, and the break had given me again some determination to fight back.

But the next crack of the whip hit my lower belly, pushing like a fist into my stomach (“Ouch!”), as, a split second later, one of the tails went across my penis. I shrieked, collapsed forward, but got restrained by my wrist ropes. I fell hard with my buttocks on the pole. The intense pain from the kick in my loins, simply kept raging, seemed to never fade away and prevented me from breathing. Fortunately, she paused.
“Sorry! Not personal! That was offside from my part!” I looked at her, wondering if her ‘sorry’ was serious or to taunt me!

I noticed I stood urinating! Due to the hit on my penis, the urine stream felt burning like hot water. I tried get my composure back. Remain defiant! Not easy, when that woman is watching me urinating, stoically waiting until I have finished it! I realized Messa and Lucia must be looking at me too! And the crowd! I heard them shouting obscenities now, about slashing off by balls and things like that!

The red haired soldier : “Don’t worry, poet! Castrates are the best singers!”.

She stepped up to me, and inspected my whip marks (I could hardly see them, but what I could see was red skin)!
"When you behave well on your march and during your execution, I will stay with this whip. Believe me, if you give me trouble on the way to the execution site, I will rip you open with the Flagrum and order the guards to drag or carry you to your execution. What I do to you right now, can also be just some easy beginning."
I nodded to her, confirming (what to hell could I behave ‘badly’)?

She continued. She worked downward on my right side : on my thighs, then my knees, then my shin. Every stroke meant five terrible stings! Every stroke, I uttered a short ‘Aaargh!’

Then, she stepped to my left side and started from the other side downward on my front again! Apparently, she followed the same pattern as on my right side. As these strokes came down in the same areas as those she had administered from my right front side, and some even straight on previous welts, they doubled the pain already present, I lost the strength to resist! My cries now were long, high ‘Aaaaaaahs’.
“Little break, poet!” she said.

I hardly could stay upright then. Trembling, sweating, I leaned with my back against the pole. She gave me some posca to drink. It envigored me a little bit. I regained a little bit conscience of the world around me again, since it had been narrowed all to a pole, and a stinging whip.
I noticed that the ‘hard work’ had made my tormentor sweating over her face and torso! The black band of fabric fixing her tits was all wet, exposing her nipples under it very sharply.

She stepped behind me, inspecting me once more.

Again, she started at my right side, hitting my back and shoulder. Any time, I tried to escape forward, but any time, the wrist ropes draw me back violently, making me smashing with my buttocks against the pole. The backlash made the impact of the strokes even harder. The intention I had during my break, to keep myself under control, the last bit of resistance I had regained by drinking the posca, immediately had dwindled. A stroke hit my bottom, I hit the pole with my testicles! I almost passed out! Far away, I felt a stroke on my right thigh and calve.

She let me recover again.

"Have some more posca. It will ease the dying a little."
It was then, I realized I had emptied my bowels somewhere underway! But I did not bother anymore! I was dead meat! She could as well have skipped the last five lashes, administered to my left rear. They fell in slow motion, during what seemed to last an eternity! They still did hurt, but they fell on a body, my spirit had left already!

The next thing I remembered was me lying on the ground, getting a bucket of cold water over me. The cold water eased the burning pain somewhat. I looked around.
Someone kicked his feet into my lower waist. That Britton legionnaire again!
“Wake up poet! Or do you want to miss your little girlfriend’s belly dance?”
I saw Messaline, getting dragged by her tunica to the pole now!

 

[cire]

Loxuru :

At first, I could not believe what I heard! Crucified? I just got condemned to the cross! For a moment the whole world seemed fading away. Then I heard a shouting. It was Messaline. She was also completely overwhelmed by the verdict! Reproachfully, she yelled at me that I had not been fair to her, because I had not told her that I was a ‘dangerous’ man! Come on! That would have been absurd! But I did not see the point of replying to her! It did not matter anymore, right!? And upset as she was, I doubted she would have listened to me anyway! She cried for help, help from Judith. I felt sorry for her! And I felt anger, since it had become clear to me that this had been a mock trial. The verdict was already decided before we could defend ourselves. It became even more clear, when a legionnaire, a red hair Britton, missing three quarter of his teeth, grabbed my arm, and, through a alcohol soaked breath, said to me :
“Hey, poetry man, you are a lucky bastard!”
“Oh really?” I said, trying to evade that terrible smell.
“Yeah! See that woman there!?”

He pointed to a tall, well-shaped woman, of a Germanic type, dressed in a shirt and a leather apron, wearing robust sandals, like a legionary.
“Ain’t she pretty!? Be kind to her when you meet her! She will be your executioner, poet!”
“A woman executioner!?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes, poet man, she is! You will have the honor to be the first man in Germania to be crucified by a woman! Fits a poet, huh!? Your crucifixion will be a real cultural event! And you know what!? She just finished her apprenticeship! The three of you will be her first clients! I hope for you she masters her skills already well, otherwise it could be bad times over bad times for you!”

Was he trying to scare me? Anyway, the presence of an executioner at a trial! No better proof that it was a mockery of justice! Had it sense to protest? There would be little time, since the verdict would be executed immediately!

There was little time! That executor woman, since that’s what she was indeed, stepped to Messaline and me with the third condemned.
"See, this is Lucia. She will be punished along with you. I give her the chance to watch what will be done to her. Loxuru the wrongdoer will be flogged first, and then you Messaline. Let me strip him, then tie his hands behind his back to the pole."

Before I could reply : “I did not do wrong!”, two guards forced me, still holding me by my arms, to a low pole.
The woman executioner stepped in front of me, grabbed my tunic and tore it off in one move, while the guards forced my arms behind my back and tied them to the metal ring on top of the pole.

I stood forcedly in an uneasy position, since my hands got pulled down to the pole, making me arch backward, loins arching forward, naked, completely exposed to the crowd. I tried to search a more protected position, but that did not work. I tried to avoid looks, but I could not avoid hearing the laughing and taunting of the onlookers.

“What’s the matter, poetry man? Stage fear!?” The red haired soldier said, mockingly. “Give us some show! I bet you never had such a large and enthusiastic audience!”

I also feared that my front side would make an excellent target for the flogging! That woman executioner thought the same about it, judging from her approving looks to my exposed naked body!

Then she took her instruments out of her bag. Inspecting each of it, while throwing a vicious look at me! I almost got the shit out of me, when she showed up her Flagrum, a seven tailed lash with sharp metal, bone and glass attached to each tail. She hesitated a little bit, but finally, she picked out a five tailed whip with simple leather lashes. Would you believe, at that moment, I felt thankful to her?

As a last preparation, she took out her shirt, leaving her torso only covered by a black band of cloth over her – generous - breasts. Like men would do when they were about to take up heavy work. Heavy work! With me as the subject to be worked upon! She threw a last look to Messaline and Lucia, kept by the guards at a little distance from me, drawing my looks to them too. They stood watching horrified. My mind uttered an unspoken ‘help me!’, knowing that such was an illusion! No, let’s not fail! I made up my mind those Romans will not get me down that easy! Naked or not! For our liberty, and for Messa and Lucia, to give them at least a little bit of courage!

As the executioner walked up to me, my looks were fixed on her. The nearer she came, her eyes got brighter! I noticed some excitement in her body language! She clearly enjoyed the prospect of flogging a naked, tied man. Yet, even over all my fear, the view of her excited looks, her dominating attitude, her nearly bare torso over her leather apron… sent a rush of excitement through all my body…

Without a word, she immediately made a stroke over my right shoulder and upper arm. I tried to evade the stroke, but the way I stood tied, made that almost impossible. Instinctively I had tried to turn my back to her, as far as I could, fearing for a stroke straight on my genitals! That first crack of the whip caused a feeling of stinging burn where the leather had hit me. She waited a few seconds before the next stroke. That came down on my chest, exposed due to my backward arching, causing a hell of a pain around my nipples. Still, I fought screaming, but the effort to suppress the pain made me sweat heavily.

The next one hit a few inches lower, smashing all the air out of my lungs. I gasped to breath, making me sweating even harder!
She waited until I breathed normally again. So I got aware of my surroundings. I saw Messaline and Lucia, forced to watch what would be soon inflicted to themselves! I noticed the crowd. I heard their taunting.
“Poet! Dance for us!”
“Sing louder, man! We cannot hear you!”

I tried to ignore them, and the break had given me again some determination to fight back.

But the next crack of the whip hit my lower belly, pushing like a fist into my stomach (“Ouch!”), as, a split second later, one of the tails went across my penis. I shrieked, collapsed forward, but got restrained by my wrist ropes. I fell hard with my buttocks on the pole. The intense pain from the kick in my loins, simply kept raging, seemed to never fade away and prevented me from breathing. Fortunately, she paused.
“Sorry! Not personal! That was offside from my part!” I looked at her, wondering if her ‘sorry’ was serious or to taunt me!

I noticed I stood urinating! Due to the hit on my penis, the urine stream felt burning like hot water. I tried get my composure back. Remain defiant! Not easy, when that woman is watching me urinating, stoically waiting until I have finished it! I realized Messa and Lucia must be looking at me too! And the crowd! I heard them shouting obscenities now, about slashing off by balls and things like that!

The red haired soldier : “Don’t worry, poet! Castrates are the best singers!”.

She stepped up to me, and inspected my whip marks (I could hardly see them, but what I could see was red skin)!
"When you behave well on your march and during your execution, I will stay with this whip. Believe me, if you give me trouble on the way to the execution site, I will rip you open with the Flagrum and order the guards to drag or carry you to your execution. What I do to you right now, can also be just some easy beginning."
I nodded to her, confirming (what to hell could I behave ‘badly’)?

She continued. She worked downward on my right side : on my thighs, then my knees, then my shin. Every stroke meant five terrible stings! Every stroke, I uttered a short ‘Aaargh!’

Then, she stepped to my left side and started from the other side downward on my front again! Apparently, she followed the same pattern as on my right side. As these strokes came down in the same areas as those she had administered from my right front side, and some even straight on previous welts, they doubled the pain already present, I lost the strength to resist! My cries now were long, high ‘Aaaaaaahs’.
“Little break, poet!” she said.

I hardly could stay upright then. Trembling, sweating, I leaned with my back against the pole. She gave me some posca to drink. It envigored me a little bit. I regained a little bit conscience of the world around me again, since it had been narrowed all to a pole, and a stinging whip.
I noticed that the ‘hard work’ had made my tormentor sweating over her face and torso! The black band of fabric fixing her tits was all wet, exposing her nipples under it very sharply.

She stepped behind me, inspecting me once more.

Again, she started at my right side, hitting my back and shoulder. Any time, I tried to escape forward, but any time, the wrist ropes draw me back violently, making me smashing with my buttocks against the pole. The backlash made the impact of the strokes even harder. The intention I had during my break, to keep myself under control, the last bit of resistance I had regained by drinking the posca, immediately had dwindled. A stroke hit my bottom, I hit the pole with my testicles! I almost passed out! Far away, I felt a stroke on my right thigh and calve.

She let me recover again.

"Have some more posca. It will ease the dying a little."
It was then, I realized I had emptied my bowels somewhere underway! But I did not bother anymore! I was dead meat! She could as well have skipped the last five lashes, administered to my left rear. They fell in slow motion, during what seemed to last an eternity! They still did hurt, but they fell on a body, my spirit had left already!

The next thing I remembered was me lying on the ground, getting a bucket of cold water over me. The cold water eased the burning pain somewhat. I looked around.
Someone kicked his feet into my lower waist. That Britton legionnaire again!
“Wake up poet! Or do you want to miss your little girlfriend’s belly dance?”
I saw Messaline, getting dragged by her tunica to the pole now!

Thank you very much Loxuru.
This is so very intense, so very special. Great to read an insight of a condemned while being flogged. Most people think when they read or hear about the flogging as described in the bible, that it was done without paying attention. Or when you check out the Mel Gibson production, that it was some unrealistic violent process.

What we all show here is, that it was a stage. The impressions on the other condemned (Messaline and Lucia) while they had to watch, you as a victim, Dena as the executioner, the guards, the spectators, not to forget the ambience. That all together created a phantastic, to this day unmatched scenario. Maybe in the future a movie director picks it up and goes into serious detail. But that is not easy, as we can see. It takes a complete team, incredible energy, guts and lot's of information........

 

[Loxuru]

Thank you very much Loxuru.
This is so very intense, so very special. Great to read an insight of a condemned while being flogged. Most people think when they read or hear about the flogging as described in the bible, that it was done without paying attention. Or when you check out the Mel Gibson production, that it was some unrealistic violent process.

What we all show here is, that it was a stage. The impressions on the other condemned (Messaline and Lucia) while they had to watch, you as a victim, Dena as the executioner, the guards, the spectators, not to forget the ambience. That all together created a phantastic, to this day unmatched scenario. Maybe in the future a movie director picks it up and goes into serious detail. But that is not easy, as we can see. It takes a complete team, incredible energy, guts and lot's of information........

Thank you, Cire.

It is all about doing some 'method acting'.

 

[cire]

The next stage will be the flogging of Messaline.
I have spoken to Dena (the executioner), how she would feel about actually executing an innocent victim. On one hand, when we look at the story it's very arousing, but on the other hand, it will be quite shocking.
There is no doubt that Messaline is innocent, moreover, she doesn't even realize yet, what is happening to her and around her.
Also clear that Loxuru deserves every lash and humiliation for agitating against Rome.
It seems we learn here, that in the end it doesn't matter......

 

[Loxuru]

Also clear that Loxuru deserves every lash and humiliation for agitating against Rome.

Now thanks a lot!
These Romans have no sense of humour! These pompous asses take themselves too seriously! That is the problem!
But remember! The pen is sharper than the sword!

 

[messaline]

The next stage will be the flogging of Messaline.

Why ? I've not made anything against Rome ! Dena, perhaps can you tell that to your superioers and perhaps they could stop all this torture ...

There is no doubt that Messaline is innocent, moreover, she doesn't even realize yet, what is happening to her and around her.

If I'm innocent, why am I here ? No doubt that a messenger will come soon to tell that I'll be not executed !
All that is so much barbaric and cruel ... Though, I always thought that roman people were civilized ...
... and how a woman can take pleasure in torturing another'one ? A woman do give the life , not to eliminate !

 

[piraland]

Why ? I've not made anything against Rome ! Dena, perhaps can you tell that to your superioers and perhaps they could stop all this torture ...


If I'm innocent, why am I here ? No doubt that a messenger will come soon to tell that I'll be not executed !
All that is so much barbaric and cruel ... Though, I always thought that roman people were civilized ...
... and how a woman can take pleasure in torturing another'one ? A woman do give the life , not to eliminate !

Oh yes ! Messaline!
The Romans are so-called civilized people, but above all, they like to see such a beautiful woman as you suffer and die exposed naked on a cross!
Unfortunately for you, they will not come back!
Your future is traced, your destiny sealed.

 

[messaline]

I stood forcedly in an uneasy position, since my hands got pulled down to the pole, making me arch backward, loins arching forward, naked, completely exposed to the crowd.

I hope that she'll have some mercy and that she'll tie me face to the pole ...

I noticed I stood urinating!

Will I do ? It's so much ashaming ! No doubt that to the cross I'll do and I'll defecate too !!!

Then, she stepped to my left side and started from the other side downward on my front again! Apparently, she followed the same pattern as on my right side. As these strokes came down in the same areas as those she had administered from my right front side, and some even straight on previous welts, they doubled the pain already present, I lost the strength to resist! My cries now were long, high ‘Aaaaaaahs’.

Wooooo ! How my tender body could resist to that !!! Please Dena, have mercy , I'm innocent !

 

[cire]

DENA:

Messaline's flogging

Loxuru is laying on the ground, and I'm happy with the way he looks. One can tell that he is debilitated but not too faded, recovering visibly due to the cold water.

Damn, a bucket of cold water on my body would be something. I'm shining in the sun like Loxuru, of course, in my case it's just sweat.

The thin strip of black fabric that is covering my tits is nothing but a joke already. Displaying, soaked with sweat, my erected nipples underneath. With every move that I make, the fabric is rubbing my tits. This stimulation combined with the strain when I flog the victims, keeps me aroused.

........ I push and pull the girl towards the pole in the center of the atrium.

Messaline is speaking to me while I do so:

"Dena, have mercy. You know that I'm innocent. I didn't even know anything about Loxurus actions for a free Germania. I'm from Gaul, what sense does that make?"

I reply with a low voice:

"It's not up to me if you are innocent or not. I'm the property of Aurelian. He has sentenced you and I'm your executioner, advised to send you to hell. Step back with your ass to the pole."

Without hesitation I pull Messaline's tunic over her head. Her soft and well shaped body trembling. Standing there with only the loincloth left, she is covering her nipples with her fingertips,
repeating her words again. This time a little louder:

"You all here, you know I'm innocent. Why are you doing this to me?"

Now the spectators are getting involved. Amongst the laughter a voice can be heard:

"Yes you are innocent, but how come you've been hanging around with that peace of meat there in the dust? You seem to belong to each other, though you still look so much better than he does."

The crowd starts to laugh while I speak silently to Messaline:

"Shut up now. I don't want to have additional trouble here. If you keep complaining, I will flog you with my flagrum. If you stop it, I will take the lighter bullwhip."

Saying that, I'm pulling down the girls loincloth causing her left hand to move down to cover her vagina.
Not for long though. The guards tie her left tankle to the bottom of the pole, to then pull her hands to the top of it, arching her upper body back. Automatically Messaline is supporting herself with the hands on the pole, while she is watching the guards fastening her wrists to the metal ring attached to it's top.

This is fun already to me. While her upper body is stretched backwards, her breasts are dangling smoothly. It's almost possible for her to "sit" on her hands. Messaline has goosebumps all over her back. The exitment, the fear, and the sensation of being exposed naked in public, lets her nipples stand out nicely.

I'm drinking posca, and also give a good zip to the grotesquesly stretched Messaline. I'm lowering my voice again, so the conversation stays between me and the condemned woman:

"Have some of the posca, the alcohol will make torture and dying easier for you. When you act like this during the flogging, we will not have any fuzz with the mob. Later on when you are crucified, you can scream at these idiots, if you want to. Have another zip. You should feel the alcohol very fast, it's a hot day."

Going to the table, I reach for my light bullwhip, to then step in front of the stripped Messaline, while she is looking me straight into the eyes. No, it doesn't bother me at all to execute the girl. She has been sentenced, and it's my task to accomblish it. Amazingly I'm not half as excited than what I thought I'd be. All this here feels so right to me.


As if she wants me to start, she is raising her head some, glancing into the blue sky.
Stepping to her left side, my whip is hissing through the air, hitting Messaline on her left upper arm. The lash curling with a crack and a thud along her collarbone. Little blood is exiting the damaged skin along the first whipmark. Then Messaline focuses me again.

She receives the next lash across her left boob right above the nipple from me, starts to gasp and I give her time to deal with the increasing pain. In disbelief she's looking at the bleeding whipmarks on her body to take her head back again. To me it almost seems that she wants to indicate that she's ready to take the next blow.

Crack. I hit her ribcage underneath her left boob, forcing her to let out the first cry while she's tries to pull free from the ropes. The lash cutting through the tight skin over her ribs like a knive, bursting the skin open. I take a closer look and can spot the ribs along the whipmark. This is not bad at all, as long as I don't tear her completely apart.

Since her left foot is not tied to the pole, she can step back and forth in pain. That's keeping the situation entertaining for the laughing crowd. Her body and tits constantly moving, dangling.

Then I hit her directly to the stomach. Though this time I don't rest, to immediately get her hip with all the power that I have, kinda deboning her hip like a butcher. By now Messaline is screaming without interruption. Unimpressed I place the next lash on her left thigh, followed by two more further down the front thigh muscle.

Amazed I realize that a stream of urin, running down her tied leg, is merging with sweat and blood. Pleased that the torture is draining the girls body, I place a good lash below the knee, and finish the front left side with a last violent strike to her lower leg.


A spectator commenting with laughter:

"You don't know how to behave in public. Not enough that you are naked, no, you are also urinating. Even the other condemned are upset. You say that you are innocent. When I look at you and the way you appear here, to me you are damn sure guilty. Your body looks like the body of a guilty woman. Ha, ha. Just watch yourself."

I feel satisfied. If she is cleaning out her bladder now, she will not do it when I crucify her. Very good.

Walking up to the condemned to give her more posca, I notice that she can still hold her head and is conscious. In the sand below her feet, blood, sweat, urin and Loxuru's excrement is merging. To deal a little better with the penetrative smell, I'm also taking some more of the drink.

"Messaline, I will start to work on your right front side, before I handle your back. At the end you will have 40 whipmarks on your body. 10 on each side. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She replying weakly: "Yes I do."

Then my bullwhip is hissing through the air again, this time curling along her right collarbone.

Flogging her is very strenuous for me, too. I'm wondering with a smile, how Messaline is considering it.

Sweat is running down in streams between my boobs and body. How I wished I could take take that fabric off, that is covering and supporting my tits. As a matter of fact, it would be great to strip completely, but I can't. Aurelian wouldn't be pleased and Hectorius would have a heartattack. I wouldn't mind. If the mob would get to intrusive, I'd give the assholes some good lashes. Following my thoughts with amusement, I recognize that the posca is obviously relaxing me. Clearly knowing that the audience would most likely give even more stupid comments, when I keep working on the condemned with naked breasts. It would be fun though.

Still concentrating on every lash that I place, I work my way down to Messaline's right lower leg with the whip. I'm not using my maximum power every time I'm hitting her. According to the roman code of practice, it's best that a condemned carries the crossbeam to the crucifixion site himself. I have to use the perfect dose to keep her in the game. That is the art. I want the audience to witness the full violence, on the other hand the condemned are supposed to perform as good as possible during their execution.

I have to say that I enjoy this low pole a lot. When I'm changing sides, there is no need to turn the condemned around or anything like that. All that I have to do is to step behind the victim, and let the whip crack again, this time across her left shoulder blade. Plus the audience can inspect the status of the flogging. My methodic approach, well visible with the pattern cut into the skin of her smeared body. Messaline is stepping forward using her left foot to support herself, and to keep from sinking down to the ground.

There is no mercy, crack...., crack...., crack. The shoulders, back, hips and ass, down her legs. I'm tearing her rear side up like I tore her up from the front. Finally she is on her knees in the dirt, hanging by the pole, unconscious.

Meanwhile everybody at the atrium, including myself, is convinced that she is guilty. There is no doubt. The whipmarks on her skin, the dirty body, everybody can tell Messaline is a criminal. She appears like Loxuru. Absolutely correct that she is sentenced to the cross, a logical thing.

After drinking some more posca I shout at the guards:

"Take her off the pole and bring her to the other delinquent on the ground."

Advised so, the guards untie the guilty wrongdoer, pull her to the side next to Loxuru, to also dump some buckets of cold water onto her body in the dust.

I'm collecting tunic and loincloth, then hurling Messaline's last belongings over to her.

During the flogging of the wrongdoers, Lucia had to watch what was done to the condemned, knowing that it will be her turn next.

Messaline and Loxuru will have some time to recover, while the bitch Lucia will receive her long deserved flagellation.....

 

[messaline]

"Dena, have mercy. You know that I'm innocent. I didn't even know anything about Loxurus actions for a free Germania. I'm from Gaul, what sense does that make?"

By now Messaline is screaming without interruption.

"What can I do more ? In screaming, I've the impression that it's softer ... but is it ? I understand that I cant wait any mercy from this girl !"

"What a shame !!! I'm pissing in front of all this crowd ! They're laughing , of course ! How can I be so much frail ? ... And this girl who takes her pleasure in whipping me ... I cant understand , a woman is made to give the life, not to torture people ! It was my view of the world, at least ... Soon, she'll nail me to an horrible cross and I'll die slowly, cruelly ....

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy ?! ... "
​

TBC ...

 

[Loxuru]

Messaline gets flogged! She has tried to convince that woman not to do it, because she is innocent, but in vain. She is stripped and tied to that pole. The whip falls upon her, stroke after stroke. No mercy! I sometimes have the impression that she is hit harder than me. The crowd loves it. They cheer it!

A man being humiliated and flogged, that is justice being done. A righteous sentence to expel a wrongdoer out of society, and the people enjoy that and approve it. But in case of a young, pretty woman like Messaline, it is even different. These have this aura of natural innocence, so if one is treated as Messaline is now, there is not only the erotic excitement of the procedure (although no one in the crowd will admit) that makes it attractive, there is also the feeling that when an innocent looking woman like Messaline is subjected to all this, she must be really guilty! Justice does not make errors in that. So, with the increasing number of whip marks on her body, her perception of being guilty increases!to, and the crowd mocks and taunts her about her claims of being innocent.

Poor Messaline! And I admire how she keeps up her strength under this torture!

 

[cire]

View attachment 754245



View attachment 754258 "What can I do more ? In screaming, I've the impression that it's softer ... but is it ? I understand that I cant wait any mercy from this girl !"

View attachment 754273 "What a shame !!! I'm pissing in front of all this crowd ! They're laughing , of course ! How can I be so much frail ? ... And this girl who takes her pleasure in whipping me ... I cant understand , a woman is made to give the life, not to torture people ! It was my view of the world, at least ... Soon, she'll nail me to an horrible cross and I'll die slowly, cruelly ....

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy ?! ... "
​

TBC ...

This is such a great illustration. The pics are giving an exact impression of what the condemned had to go through, once they've got sentenced by the commander of the fort. It's scary, shocking but also so very arousing to accompany the delinquents on their way to the cross.

Thank you very much Messaline.

 

[cire]

DENA:

Revenge

These two got it. The guards have dragged the naked Loxuru and Messaline to the side. I step over to look for them. To me it seems like they are halfway conscious again:

"I have tossed your clothes over to you, so you can dress as good as possible for the walk, in case it makes you feel better. As soon as the flogging of Lucia is finished, we will load the crossbeams to your shoulders and march you to your execution site. There is more people here to witness your execution, than we all have expected, still I want to keep control. The guards and I will guide you on your way. Take a close look when I flog Lucia. If you give me trouble, I will not hesitate to take additional action."

Turning to the guards, I tell them to bring the crossbeams and present the rough pieces of wood to the condemned and the spectators:

"Bring the three crossbeams in. Lay them down next to Messaline and Loxuru. Then you can prepare the signs that we will attach above their heads."

The raw pieces of wood are carried in. Just to look at these crossbeams with the cut-outs for the uprights is scary. These have been in use several times already. Stains of blood and nail-holes of previous executions are well visible in the raw worked, and due to the exposure to wind and weather, aged wood.

I turn to the two victims on the ground again:

"You can see that you are not the first condemned that will be executed with these crossbeams. Pretty sure you are not the last ones either. Though you will be attached to it until only your bones are left on the crosses. When we reach the Sessorium and you look around, you can get an idea. Finally it will be just the titulus above your head reminding passers by, that you once posessed capable bodies. Let me also tell you, that it's not such a long walk to the place of your death. Maybe a 100 or 150 meters. You might have seen the crosses aside of the road, when you came to the village. If you have questions don't be scared to ask me or the guards. I like it when things are clear."

I feel the urge to drink some water and posca again and realize that It's time to pay Lucia back. This is so great. She is in my hands.

Stepping over to Lucia, I drag the screaming, a little corpulent brown skinned bitch to the pole:

"I will not give you any alcohol. I want you to receive the torture fully aware. There is so much desaster that you have distributed."

She screaming with fear:

"Save me Dena. Ask the master that he might spares me. I have always been your friend. Never have I done anything wrong....... "