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The Gods’ Edicts Part XII - A Heathen is Crucified

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Illara said:
The lead guard snapped his fingers and said “My, I almost forgot.” He reached into his satchel and grabbed a small wooden placard, about half a meter wide. On the wood was written the word ‘Heathen’ in black ink. He went over and took out a much smaller nail the ones pinning Nihlufar to her cross and nailed the sign to the top of her cross, so all who looked upon her would see and know what sort of foul scum she was.
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I love this often overlooked portion of the execution process: this live, living being who had hopes, desires, thoughts during their lifetime is now reduced to a one-word descriptor as she struggles towards death. All her accomplishments negated, her dreams shattered as thoroughly as her wrists and ankles. She is nothing but a Heathen, now, to all those who come across her in her final agony, and beyond her death until the cross is needed for its next condemned….
 
Blue said:
I love this often overlooked portion of the execution process: this live, living being who had hopes, desires, thoughts during their lifetime is now reduced to a one-word descriptor as she struggles towards death. All her accomplishments negated, her dreams shattered as thoroughly as her wrists and ankles. She is nothing but a Heathen, now, to all those who come across her in her final agony, and beyond her death until the cross is needed for its next condemned….
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Extremely well put! It is indeed a horrifyingly reductive way to degrade the condemned even further.
 
Nihlufar was experiencing the worst pain she had ever felt, her wrists and ankles nailed to the wooden cross, her legs spread slightly and her arms outstretched. Every movement, no matter how slight, caused pain to lance through her body.

She heard the lead guard order his men to raise up her cross and her shattered mind reeled at the thought of hanging like this.

She gasped and moaned in agony as the cross bucked underneath her, the soldiers lifting it up by the crossbeam that she had been made to shamefully carry. The base of the cross was in contact with the ground, but now her head was raised about a half meter off of the ground.

Already the pain was multiplying shockingly. “No! No! Do not do this!” She screamed. They ignored her and she felt the men heave the crossbeam higher so they could change their grips from a lift with their biceps to a push up with their shoulders.

Her body rotated upward more she felt the pull of her body weight against the nails. She screamed and wondered if her flesh would tear and she would fall to the ground.

She realized with a sharp panic that that horrific outcome would be a mercy compared to enduring this, and she knew that her cruel executioners had nailed her in a way where she was completely and hopelessly pinned to this brutal implement of death.

The bottom of the cross scraped forward and found its hole, slamming down so that it was secured in a fully upright position!

Nihlufar’s entire body tensed up instinctively at the shocking, visceral pain, her legs and arms straining against the nails, her back arching, her head flung back in a scream of anguish.

She was crucified!
 
Nihlufar’s body writhed in excruciating on the cross, exploring how every conceivable angle was utter torture when nailed to the cross. The pain was so extreme that she barely noticed the naked guards milling in front of her, their hard cocks like masts as they looked up at her with joy and arousal on their faces.

How!? She wondered in horror. How can they take pleasure in my suffering!? I am innocent! No! One of the soldiers shuddered as his cock erupted semen onto the ground, his eyes locked onto her breasts as they jiggled in her degrading writhing.

She moaned and groaned in pain, struggling in vain against her nails, as the guards slowly and reluctantly got their clothes and gear back on.

“Form up!” The leader said, and the soldiers began to march down to the road.

“No!” She screamed. “Don’t leave me!” She tried to ask them for Ulmann, but her throat ached and her body was weak, so she sank down, her knees bent as much as the nails in her wrists allowed, her head hung forward, trembling at the pain coursing through her entire body.

She screamed out and used her arms and legs to raise herself up slightly and look around. The guards were marching down the road back to the city, nearly out of view.

They have left us! She thought with horror, any tiny, ridiculous, illogical hope left in the deepest crevices of her mind shattering.

Nihlufar strained her head to the side and looked upon the slave crucified next to her. The busty, cum-splattered blonde was gyrating her hips slowly, straining against her nails desperately, her agony apparent.

Nihlufar looked at the road and saw a caravan passing by, all of the eyes upon their naked, suffering bodies.

Nihlufar cursed the day she ever left Ashar…
 
Really nice story!!

I wonder if in the Sacred Realm they also crucify males, that would explain the "disappearance" of Ulmann.

Just imagine been crucified and that your servant, and only hope gets crucified in front of you.
 
settantuno said:
.......I will not be able to participate further until September 9thI will not be able to participate further until September 9th
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Thank you so much for another wonderful illustration of this story! You have elevated it so much with your art! Thank you! We’ll see you back on September 9th thank you so much! We appreciate you!
 
Nihlufar suffered upon her cross as the day wore on at an agonizingly slow pace. This one day of terror and shame and horrific pain felt like it lasted longer than her entire life before it.

Every moment on the cross was excruciating torture. Her body was overstimulated with pain, every ounce of her being screaming at her to get off it and make the pain stop, which she was utterly powerless to do. Her body moved up and down and writhed unconsciously, doing the “dance of the crucified”, and while she suffered this supreme agony she was also degraded, for every single person, every merchant, every traveler, every one who passed to or from the capital city of The Sacred Realm on the Great South Road beheld her naked shame and suffering.

Nihlufar had long given up hope that Ulmann would show up suddenly and lower her cross, remove her nails, and get her far from here where a healer could help tend to her nail wounds.

Now, in the rare moments where her mind had enough strength to hold lucid thoughts along with the horrific pain, she wondered what had befallen him. Had he been crucified also? Or fled to save himself and not her? Or been bribed? Or converted to their brutal religion? Each possibility seemed more ridiculous. But then she would think of death. Of never seeing the fields and forests and mountains of her homeland. Of never seeing her family again. Of never feeling joy or happiness again.

In those moments of fearful despair, she would have wept were she not dehydrated and in extreme physical agony.

So she hung from the cross. Free entertainment for those on the Great South Road. A titillating naked young woman and also a stern warning on the severity of the laws of the Sacred Realm.

Her pain was so great that she rarely had the strength or the will to look over at the closest living soul to her, the similarly suffering and degraded slave girl just a couple of meters away.

But when she did look over, she just saw the slave girls agony. One time they locked eyes, and seeing her own suffering reflected in the eyes of another was too horrifying for her.

Nihlufar looked up at the sun, still an hour from setting it looked like, and wondered how she could endure this agony for another second. She had reached the point where she just wanted it to end…
 
Nihlufar suffered for a long, long time on her cross. A few hours before sundown on the second day of her crucifixion, she looked over and saw that the slave girl had perished, her body hanging completely still from her nails.

Nihlufar endured, to her horrific dismay, her torturous execution prolonged by the good health and youthful vigor she had possessed before her crucifixion.

Shortly before noon on the fourth day since she was crucified, she perished. She suffered extremely and felt all of the pain up until mere minutes before life left her body.
 
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