The Wall – 21
Governor Nepos stopped directly behind the raised posterior of the bound and chained girl. The crowd had formed a horse-shoe around Lilah, with her head was facing away from the Town’s Gate to look at the partially built wall beyond. The whole of the assembled mass had a clear view of her backside … When she felt fingertips scurry across the smooth skin of her bare, upraised buttocks, Lilah cringed and bit down on her lip.
“This barbarian savage is being made an example of to deter others like her from attempting to breech our wall or attack us from the inside. From now on, any assaults on our towns and settlements will be dealt with in a similar manner. We do this for Eboracum, Britannia and all of Rome.” The crowd cheered his stirring words.
The Governor’s fingers delved deep and opened Lilah’s body, pressing insistently at the spot where the sharp edged wood had already begun to split her body . Blood rushed hot to her cheeks and she could hear the sounds of tittering laughter from those watching as tears pricked her eyelids.
But then, having opened and stretched her, making the bound girl squirm, Nepos straightened, assumed a sincere expression worthy of his position and placed both hands behind his back.
As the Governor headed back towards his small tent, to once more join his guests, he issued a barely discernible nod, and on cue, the flagellator, now fully rested form his earlier exertion, languidly ascended the small dais in front of Lilah’s prostrate form. His legs, straight and corded with muscle, supported a torso such as sculptors fashioned when they shaped a god. His arms, sinewed and powerful, folded over his chest, ending in hands perfectly formed. His body was that of a man such as women yearned for, an invincible power that exuded grace and horror simultaneously. When Lilah raised her tear-drenched eyes to regard him, she saw his handsome face radiate a palpable malevolence.
He grinned and stooped over the top of the wooden horse-frame, yanking her hair back and raising her head so that he could amorously ravage her mouth.
The crowd gasped. Scourge her, yes, take the flesh from her bones yes … but kiss her! This was a spectacle and no mistake. The horde hooted with laughter when Lilah spit her saliva onto the ground once he had torn himself away from her lips.
The flagellant too growled with delight, and his dark expression grew wild as he saw the fear in the eyes of his victim as he displayed the huge, many-barbed scourge.
Shoulder locked, wrists loose, the hulk of a man hurled back his arm and swung it against the timber base of the horse’s trestle with an ear-piercing whack.
A great, guttural cry exploded from Lilah’s chest. She jerked wildly in the restraints, recoiling in horror, the blow so violent that everybody jumped, shocked. Many of the women covered their mouths involuntarily or closed their eyes as murmurs of excitement passed between the men.
Skilful lash-master that he was, the flagellant smacked the leather fiercely against the post a second time, with flesh-shearing force. He was tormenting the girl unmercifully, bringing horrible anticipation to the encounter even at this stage of proceedings.
Fear and humiliation welled inside Lilah so deeply that she twisted her torso to fix a despairing, tear-streaked gaze towards the tyrant sitting, quaffing his wine, to her right. As her gaze moved past Aulus and Tiberius to rest upon Nepos, the Governor, unmoved, merely gestured his hand.
“Begin.”
Lilah cast her eyes around the lines of people thronging together. The bound barbarian watched in terror as they fell completely silent, motionless and attentive. She wanted to scream but the stillness of the spectators, their gaping mouths and bulging eyes had transfixed the poor girl.
The flagellator circled around into position behind her, touching her firm buttocks lightly with the hard leather handle, to assess his target ... take aim and then fire with precision.
As the familiar swish of the whip sliced the air behind her, Lilah clenched her teeth, her body rigid.
CRACK! ... the scourge made solid contact with her buttocks, hissed and dived soundly into the two mounds of smooth, quivering flesh. Her head snapped backward, the blow driving her shackled body violently forward, rasping the sharp wood deeper between her slender thighs. White searing pain exploded through her and even her teeth were shaking, fresh tears gushing from her eyes as she struggled to stifle a scream...
CRACK! ... her bottom contorting urgently in response to the onslaught of the whip. It hurt so badly, coming down upon her flesh rapidly and vigorously biting into her skin as if it had teeth, which, in a way, it did. In a frenzy of pain, Lilah grasped at the chain with whitened knuckles as the leather flew through the humid air a third time...
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! ... the resounding strokes rained down on her at a steady, relentless pace, the leather wrapping around the curved creases between buttocks and thighs, lashing an agonised wail from her lips ...
Blood and pieces of flesh flew into the air every time the barbs struck, the impact compounded as the iron scraps were dragged slowly across her body as the whip recoiled.
CRACK! ... Lilah tried her best not to cry out but it proved impossible, the throbbing shocks of hot pain giving her new energy with which to struggle once more...
CRACK! ... a piercing scream caused the multitude to gasp, the scourge gauging at her body, raking at the tender flesh between her firm, blood-dripping buttock cheeks, leaving a band of bright red grooves and welts across her flesh. Lilah was screaming at the top of her lungs now, unable to quieten or calm herself ...
CRACK!... between the screams she strained hard against the restraints, peering outward to see a girl to her left side grinning and chuckling, staring excitedly at the scene of suffering. Lilah saw the hussy’s lips move as she counted the strokes, “... seven ... eight ... nine ...” losing the tally in a fit of giggles, squealing and feigning coyness when one of the men grabbed her around the waist from behind, his hands mauling her breasts ...
A soldier, a Tungrian from the wall building party, watched Lilah’s thighs with a desire fuelled intensity as they writhed and squirmed against the wooden strip wedged into her tender flesh, splitting her soft lips … a large bulge pushing against the crotch of his tunic.
The giggling, counting girl pretended to struggle as the man unbuttoned the front of her dress, caressing pert breasts overlarge for her tiny form .... but Lilah cared not, her face buried under sweat-dampened hair, the antics of the crowd failing to distract the man holding the whip. He never so much as blinked at the agony he inspired in the minds of the gathering as they watched aroused, counting off the torturous strokes in an eerie monotonic manner.
CRACK! “... sixteen”
CRACK! “...seventeen”
CRACK! “...eighteen”
The peaks of the surrounding undulating hillocks echoed Lilah’s shrieking howls, each agonising swing of his arm brought more urgency to her movements and unbearable spasms to wrack her body. Lights danced before her eyes, as the sounds emitted by the barbarian girl settled down to a quiet keening whimper.
At the twentieth lash she drew her head back. Her breath came out in wild gasps torn from the burning core of her lungs by the scourge, filling her body until it became an overwhelming agony demanding release. The rough-edged wood of the horse she was straddling harried and tantalised the tiny nub of sentient flesh between her thighs. The friction of her thrusts caused it to swell erect, engorged with traitorous blood, and so amid the pain, she moaned with a sound of distinct desire. The crash of the scourge kneaded her pussy and hard little clit again and again, pushing it against the wood, and taking her unwittingly towards an explosion of pleasure now only heartbeats away...
Another CRACK! “Ohhh,” she groaned.
And another … CRACK! “Ohhhhhhhhhh …”
Then …
CRACK! “Nooooooooo!” The orgasm wracked her body but was lost to all others in the midst of the frenzied scourging, all except the flagellator himself who regarded her quivering body with a wry smile as dripping rivulets of juice flowed freely down the angled sides of the wooden horse.
By the twenty-seventh lash Lilah had ceased whimpering as her movements slowed. The writhing and squirming became nothing more than a slight undulation as the mounting impact of the appalling scourging she had suffered took its toll, and the mounting level of intoxicating torture dragged the barbarian girl into the deep black abyss of oblivion.
By the Thirtieth she stopped moving altogether …
To Be Continued ...