The Second Day
View attachment 1172184
It was hot! The sun blazed down on her naked body, sucking the moisture from her body. Whatever was left, the flies sucked from her mouth, her nose, her eyes, and her still damp cunt! Water! She needed water! Where was the soldier with the sponge? The last time it had tasted awful, as if he had pissed on it, but it was wet. Lifegiving moisture!
The thirst was worse than the pain of the nails in hands and feet. That had gone beyond pain, to a level that was beyond the worst nightmare. She had been up here forever. It seemed to her that she had known no other existence, that her entire life had consisted of pain. Pain and thirst!
“Water.” She croaked. “Water. For the love of the gods! Water.” Without water she would die. She wanted to die, more than anything else, she wanted to die! She wanted the pain to end. Yet, somehow, her body wanted to live! Despite the pain, despite the certain knowledge that there was no more to her life than pain, her body still struggled for life.
Julia’s mind tried to take stock of the pain. Pain from the nerves in her wrists, crushed between shattered bone and iron spikes, bones that grated each time she dragged herself up to breathe. Broken bones in her feet, grating against the spikes as she stood. The skin on her back, raw from the whipping, now completely gone, her back rubbing raw, torn flesh against the rough, splintery wood of the cross as she danced the dance of the dead. The pain and humiliation of the rough stake in her arse as she rose and fell, sodomising herself each time. The pain of sunburn, the pain of cramp, the unending irritation of flies! The crows had stayed away, she was still too lively. They would wait for their time, when she could no longer frighten them away. Then there would be the pain of their beaks, the terror of the darkness; her eyes gaping, bloody sockets. Dusk had brought relief from the sun, the flies and the crows, but that night had held its own terror. The darkness was filled with the moans, the cries, the occasional screams of her friends, as they, too danced in the darkness. There had been other night noises, scuffling noises, the hoot of an owl, high pitched squeaks. Rats! She heard them, she screamed as sharp teeth bit into her toe, instinctively trying to jerk her foot up, futilely, merely causing a different pain as iron grated against broken bone, her foot immovable. Would they eat her? Alive?
They had come for her at dawn, the air chill on her naked body, the drying juices of her many rapists drying on her skin. The grizzled old legionary had taken her arm, almost gently, leading her out into the pre-dawn chill. “Yesterday was the last day of your life, lass. Today? Well today is the first day of your death. You’re a fine piece, a good fuck, strong and proud. We’ll break that pride, have you begging soon enough, but we’ll see that your death is long. Three days, four, maybe even five! You’ll be pleading for death long before that!” They washed her, lovingly, hands roaming her body. Her hair was combed until it shone, her body oiled with sweet oils. “The flies love this oil, lass. They’ll be all over you. Crawling in everywhere! Difficult to swat a fly with your hands nailed to a crossbeam. The crows will be there too. Love eyes, they do. Pick ‘em out when you start to weaken. Day two, that will be, maybe even day three, you being strong and all!” His hands fondled her arse, lovingly. Such a fine arse! Really enjoyed it last night. Bend over!” Her body was slick with the oil, now she knew why they had rubbed it into every crevice. He slipped into her almost effortlessly, the others cheering him on. “Enjoy it, lass. Next thing to go in there is a nice, thick, splintery cornu. Fill you up proper, it will.”
She was amazed at the number of people who had turned out to watch her, given the freezing wind and the early hour. She shuddered at the sight of the whipping post, polished smooth by thousands of writhing bodies, moaned softly at the stained mud at its foot. Near it was a line of five roughly squared off beams of timber. They, too, had dark stains at the extremities. Her bladder failed her! She blushed with embarrassment as water splashed between her feet, trickled down the inside of her thighs. She would be nailed to one of those! There was a stir in the crowd. “Look there are more of them!” The woman’s voice was excited. “Hey! That one! The black-haired one! She’s in pup! That will be fun!” Claudia stumbled behind her guard, her hands protectively cradling her pregnant belly, tears streaming down her usually beautiful face.
They stretched her against the post, her nipples rubbing, becoming erect, against the smooth, pain polished wood. The pulled her up, until her toes barely touched the ground, her shoulders screaming in protest. Not for the last time! The sound of the crowd was animal excitement. One of the soldiers stripped off his tunic, leaving only a loincloth. At one time the sight of his hard, muscular body would have excited her, filled her with lust. Now, the sight of those hard muscles, and the coiled whip in his hand, filled her with terror!
It had all started so innocently. Five friends, enjoying a relaxing afternoon in the baths, sharing the latest titillating gossip from the emperor’s palace. “Have you heard the latest about the emperor? He was having it off with his sister and his niece. Well, some people say she’s actually his daughter. Out in the garden. Nobody told his butler, who brought a delegation of priests to seek audience. And there he was, his cock in the niece’s arse, and her mother, his sister, with her tongue in his arse.” There had been much giggling at this salacious titbit. Unfortunately for them, one of the bath slaves was in the pay of Demetrius, the emperor’s all powerful Greek freedman.
The soldiers came that night! The trial was short, it was clear what the verdict would be. All those who were citizens were stripped of their citizenship. The five women were to be crucified. Their husbands to be publicly castrated before being shipped as slaves to the lead mines. Other family members, no longer citizens, were enslaved. She had been forced to watch as her twin daughters were sold. The old soldier who guarded her chuckled. “Off to Ibrahim’s knocking shop, that’s where they’re going. Learn some very special tricks there, they will. At least they won’t be dancing on the cross, like you.” Heartbroken, she wondered if crucifixion would not be a kinder fate.
An agonising streak of fire across her back brought her back to the moment! Her back arched, she screamed in agony. Behind her she heard the old soldier’s voice. “Careful, Germanicus, don’t get too enthusiastic. We don’t want to cripple them, or weaken them. They need to be dancing for days. Just strip the skin off their backs, shoulder to arse. We want them nice and raw, but don’t damage the muscle too much.”
Germanicus was an artist. He took his time. Slowly, methodically, he flayed her back, from the top of her shoulders to the swell of her buttocks. The old legionary examined her result. She screamed shrilly, uncontrollably, as he ran his fingers gently down her bock, the raw nerve ends protesting violently at his touch. “Perhaps a bit more attention here, at the top of her shoulders, where the crossbeam will rest when she walks to the crossroads.” Germanicus examined the area carefully. “No more, please, no more. I beg you?” She moaned. He stepped back, the scourge hummed, her screams echoed off the hills.
She collapsed as her wrists were freed, sliding down the sweat slick whipping post. “On your feet!” The legionary growled. She leaned her head against the post, and sobbed. He touched her shoulder with a finger. “I’ll get up! I’ll get up! She whimpered, staggering to her feet. He led her to where the crossbeams lay. “Kneel!”
She realised what was about to happen. “Please? No! Have mercy. I’ll die!” Two soldiers placed the crossbeam on her shoulders, ignoring her screams and pleas, tying her arms to the beam so that that it rested on her shoulders, precisely where Germanicus had placed his final stroke. Sobbing in her agony, she watched as Germanicus, in his methodical fashion, flayed her friends’ backs, and as their crossbeams were tied to their shoulders.
“On your feet, ladies! We’re going for a little walk!” The Centurion tapped Julia’s buttocks with his vine staff. Four of them staggered to their feet, struggling to find their balance with the heavy weight of the beams digging agonisingly into raw flesh. Claudia stayed on her knees, bent over, her face in the dirt. The old legionary went over to her, gently taking her elbow. “On your feet, lass. You don’t want him to lay that staff across your back. Come on, you can do it.”
She led the procession through the streets and out of the gates to the crossroads, where their lives would end. Each step was a new torture, as raw timber rubbed against raw flesh. She whimpered softly, trying to retain some semblance of pride, as the plebs turned out to gawk at the procession of naked patricians on their way to a slave’s death. Behind her she could hear the sobs of her friends, suffering the same fate as her. Ahead she could see the crossroads, and the five uprights arranged so that the occupants would be able to see each other, and to appreciate their suffering. Already, flies, attracted by the blood and sweat, were crawling over her, in her face, in her mouth and nostrils as she gasped for breath. She shook her head, disturbing them for a moment, before they returned. A portent of torments to come.
They stopped next to the uprights, legs trembling from the weight they had been carrying. Claudia collapsed again, sobbing into the dirt. The old legionary sighed. “Do her first. She can’t stand for much longer. Might as well let her rest and take the weight off her feet.” Two soldiers turned her onto her back, eliciting fresh screams as dirt and pebbles dug into her raw back. The legionary placed her hands carefully. “Right, nail her! And don’t fuck it up! No missing the nail and crushing her hands!” Hammers fell! Cold, steel drove through soft skin, yielding flesh, shattering bones. Claudia screamed, prayed, begged; her body twisting and turning, futilely; her legs kicking wildly.
“Haul her up!” Strong arms lifted the crossbar, lifting it high, fitting the tenon into its socket, then unceremoniously dropped it into place. Claudia went crazy as her full weight came onto her shattered wrists. The legionary shook his head. “For fuck’s sake! We should have gagged her.” He stalked over to the screaming woman. “Shut the fuck up!” He managed to grab a flailing leg, placing the sole of the foot against the side of the cross. “Here! Brutus! Get yourself over here with those spikes! Nail it here! Get on with it!” The hammer did its work, one blow missing and crushing her toes.” The legionary glared at him. “Well, it’s not as if she needs them anymore, is it?” The other leg was snagged, with some difficulty, the spike hammered home. Claudia hung by her arms, her legs spread wide, her knees well bent. She was shamefully exposed.
The nailing brought Julia to a new level of pain! She stared, unbelieving, at the spike driven through her wrist, into the hard wood below. Now there was no doubt that it was all real. That she was going to die, nailed to this crude balk of timber. Slowly, painfully, she was going to die. Yet that level of pain soon faded into insignificance as her cross was raised, as she hung, squirming and screaming, by her mutilated wrists, as her feet were nailed, one by one, to the upright, As the rough wood of the cornu was placed in position, as her weight drove it, brutally, into her anus.
This was the second morning. Sunrise had brought welcome warmth after the chill of the night, welcome light after the terrors of the darkness. “Good morning, Julia. How was your night?” There was a slight tone of sardonic humour in the voice. She looked up, at Livia, nailed to the cross opposite her. The blonde was pushing herself up, the muscles in her long, beautiful legs straining, taking deep gasps of breath, lifegiving air. “Sleep well?” Her friend actually managed to laugh.
Livia had always been a bit of an odd one. A devotee of the goddess Diana, she had taken part in sport, running, jumping, throwing javelins, even wrestling, in a special gymnasium reserved for women, where they all exercised as in the days of classical Greece, nude. Her body was all lean, attractive muscle, her breasts small, her tall figure boyish. She shook her head, long, sweaty blond hair swirling around her head. That hair had always been bound, decorously, on top of her head. “Flies are back!” She stood on her feet for a few more minutes. “Oh, gods! My feet hurt!” Slowly, she sank back down, impaling herself on her cornu. She gave Julia a rueful smile. “And to think I refused to let Drusus fuck me there! No matter how much he begged. I wonder how he is doing? Has he survived his gelding? I hear the mines are a living death!”
“I suppose you think our little circle out here in the fresh air is a picnic.” Cornelia’s voice was, as always, dripping with acid. Her heavy breasts quivered and bounced as she strained up, her legs failing her, so that she dropped down hard, wrenching her wrists, screaming in pain and frustration. Drusilla croaked, her voice hoarse. She was the oldest of them, her grey hair lank and sweat stained. “Claudia,” she panted, Claudia is on her way out. She has hardly moved. She must be choking.” She heaved herself part way up, taking a few shuddering breaths before her legs collapsed again. “Go away! Go away, you foul creature!” She gasped, as a raven settled on Claudia’s patibulum, its shiny, beady eye fixed on her agony filled eyes.
“How long do you think we’ll last?” Livia asked, once more standing almost upright on her tortured feet. Julia struggled erect, whimpering at the pain in her feet. “I don’t know. I want to die, but my body won’t let me. Four, maybe five days, the old man said. Probably that for the two of us, we’re the strongest.” The raven pecked at Claudia’s eyelid. She screamed, shaking her head furiously, heaving herself up on her cross. The raven fluttered off, to settle a few yards away. A patient bird.
“Today is only day two, Livia! Only day two! I couldn’t stand two or three more days. I couldn’t!”
Livia’s thigh muscles quivered, then she screamed as one went rock hard, stricken by cramp! She screamed again, desperately twisting, trying to ease the cramp, settling onto her cornu with a thump. “We don’t exactly have a choice, do we? No choice at all!” She looked around.
“Where is that dozy bastard with the sponge?”
Art by Jucundus
