Layla's Judge, Jury and Crucifixion

The following fantasy fiction is intended solely for ADULT ONLY personal enjoyment and only where local standards permit such content. Should you be in any way troubled by themes dealing with extreme torture and abuse leading to crucifixion and death please do not read any further.

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Faibhar

Layla's Judge Jury

And Crucifixion

The

Amazing Lightening Rod

A troublesome gnat hampered Sorum's view as the roly-poly dungeon assistant ripped away the final strip of pubic hair-cum-hardened wax-cum-cloth but he clearly heard the female moan and then saw the dolt sniffing his cherished trophy.

Sorum craftily mused that things would soon get even better than what had already transpired. That knowledge plus Furiae's hand on his crotch made the morning very fine indeed. He shifted his bulk on the plush sedan, moving closer to his mistress in a silent request for more.

Five rings-no TEN rings if you counted both hands! Furiae cursed to herself. That plus all the garbage that went with it…Surely she really deserved better? Still, she was after the gold and the bastard whose cock she presently stroked currently seemed to have the most. She would do what she needed to do in order to insure her intimate position.

Another red-gold curl was brushed aside as Furiae reached with her other hand for the small sack containing what she planned for this very moment. She turned back to Sorum, who was so intent on the stage activities, and upended the bag into his palm. Two rings fell out, along with a slender and short chain.

He didn't know what to think. Furiae's actions diverted his attention from the stage just like the gnat before. He looked down at his open palm and saw two rather dull and odd rings. With them was a small chain.

"For me?"

Furiae stifled a giggle. All men seemed to go dumb whenever she had them by the balls. She increased her talon-like grip and whispered an explanation that the rings were meant for the bitch, not him. So was the chain…

A perplexed expression further wrinkled his brow and then Sorum seemed to at last get it. The rings were not complete circles but instead tapered to small points where they opened. The slender chain had clips at each end.

"They are designed to keep those freshly extracted nipples from hiding again. Every step will cause a shift in her big boobs and with the chain pulling the two rings together the points will…well, you know."

The meticulously groomed beard crinkled as he smiled. Sorum leaned closer and kissed Furiae his approval. He signaled the dungeon assistant to come over to his litter. He had something of interest to give the knave.

Furiae relaxed back into the sedan. Upon learning of the initial inverted nipples correction by the dungeon assistant had made her a bit queasy, but this latest invention seemed to further cement her relationship with Big Daddy. A girl could do worse…

A bucket of water upended over her head. Those on the other side of the stage were treated to more cross-hatching left by the scourge. Many of the red lines remained open wounds. Brocchus delicately slipped the specially crafted rings onto nipples. The points bit into the sides of the no longer scabrous flesh. The attached chain, left slightly less than taut, pulled both tits together. Lowering the prisoner's arms the dungeon assistant slipped the gauzy gown over her wet head. Material stuck to the wet body, making its transparency all the more evident. Given the fullness of her mammaries when pulled together as they were they made for a deep cleavage above the torn scoop neckline.

Layla gasped. The crossbeam laid across her shoulders was bad enough. With strength in her legs learned from years in the Steppes she was able to shoulder the heavy weight. Making matters worse were her chained breasts, the rings in her hurt nipples digging deeper. And then there was the scourging. All of her hurt. One step forward shot pangs of agony.

Sorum and his mistress watched with the others as the prisoner's arms were tied to the patibulum, a tow rope looped around her waist, and then led toward the city gates. Deciding that this moment required some form of closure, Sorum stuck his wet tongue into Furiae's ear. Ignoring her initial rebuff, he thumbed toward the departing procession and asked, "Shall we?"

Cumulus build-ups covered the horizon. Winds gusted stronger as the clouds approached. The first of the approaching rain fell in heavy droplets over the procession and its onlookers. Sorum eyed the heavens and reminded himself that this was one game that would not be called on account of rain. He wrapped his woolen cape tighter around he and Furiae as their sedan was hoisted and followed the procession.

Just outside of the city gates had stood a tall milestone. What was left lay in a pile of rubble. Furiae protested to Sorum as they passed the destroyed milestone and said, "Please. We've seen enough. Let's go back?" From his set bearded jaw and eyes focused ahead to where the prisoner was Furiae knew that any protesting was futile.

By now rain pelted patrician, plebeians, slaves and prisoner alike. Ominous skies announced that the storm would get worse before things got better. Many drew their cloaks tighter about them for protection and continued along the muddy road. As long as their leader was staying for the crucifixion, so would they.

She slid to her knees as the beam was lifted. Alongside of the main road lay the dark, longer stipes, or upright, that was to be her cross. Layla dully watched the soldiers place the crossbeam in the upright's notch and then hammer it in place. Rain chilled her almost as seeing the cross. This time she did not fight as she was lifted to her feet and the wet gown ripped from her body.

Chin on her chest, she idly wondered if they would remove the chain connecting the nipple rings. By now each ring had sunk deeply into her. Despite the downpour, the chain was stained red. It was now taut. Sensation in both had nipples deadened. The darkened nubs were pulled toward each other. Rain washed over the rest of her soaking what was left of her hair, her bruised and beaten shoulders, over her breasts and her feet stood in watery sand.

"Just pitiful," Sorum said as the sedan was pulled near to the side. "Doesn't she look bad? We will wait until the cross is raised and then head back. Okay?" Furiae only fumed-her hair and clothes a mess. It certainly would be payback time when they got back to the palace. Despite her ire, she had to look at the forlorn prisoner. Standing nude in the rain, her body tortured in so many ways and yet about to get more. Furiae had a fleeting moment of pity for the creature and then her anger with Sorum's obstinacy returned.

Brocchus wiped more rain from out of his eyes and summoning his most commanding voice ordered soldiers to lay the prisoner down and spread out her arms on the cross. Taking a flat-headed nail and heavy hammer from his pouch he placed a hairy knee closest to her outstretched hand. Not wishing to prolong matters more in this nasty weather, he placed the nail point where he thought best over her wrist, raised the hammer and swung it down hard.

All of Layla wanted to leap but was held fast. The chain holding both wet breasts together snapped, one ring slicing through the right nipple as her torso rose. Blood spurted from the nail now lodged in her wrist, opened wounds on her back and the sliced nipple. She bucked again as another hammer blow drove the nail into the wood. Ignoring the rain pouring over her eyes her mouth opened, the water pouring into her throat. She sputtered a scream.

Her fingers reflexively clawed the air as Brocchus pounded. He grabbed the wrist and pulled. It was secure. Taking a second nail, he went to her other wrist and did the same. Standing and stretching an aching back, he ordered the waiting soldiers to pull up the stipes. Making sure the upright fell into the arrange hole, Brocchus moved to the side and grabbed for a flailing ankle. Placing the muddied foot flat on the side of the wood the dungeon assistant took another nail and pounded it true.

Layla cried out as her body shifted with the raising of the cross, and yelled when it fell into the whole, jerking her pinned body downward. She cried out again as her feet were nailed to the sides of the upright, hardly conscious of the fact that her legs were now spread open, genitals gaping.

"Now watch this," Sorum said with what approached glee to Furiae. "She is a strong girl and will use her legs and arms to raise up-she has to just to breath. But…because of the nails, she'll have to slide back down. Truly this form of execution is torturous."

Furiae had covered her eyes with her fingers as soon as she heard the first strike of the hammer. The sounds that followed made even her wince. But at the sound of Sorum's voice, she parted those fingers and looked. Up on the cross hung the rain-soaked bitch, bleeding, legs opened, muscles bulging, ribs expanding and contracting. Much as she wanted to, Furiae shut her fingers over her eyes again-she could not look.

He had one last chore to perform. The dungeon assistant brought forth a mounted elephant tusk. With the help of another soldier, he hammered the tusk point up between the prisoner's legs. She would use this cornu to sit on for the rest of her days.

At first the point stabbed, but when Layla realized that it was her only hope for any rest, she sat lower on the point, feeling it go deeper inside her ass. Shame no longer was an issue. She hung and sat atop her cross.

Many of the rabble turned to go back to the city as they saw Sorum's sedan pull away and then they crouched as there came a loud roar from the heavens. A thunderclap made most shudder. They looked back at the crucifix.

Plumes of smoke trailed upward from her shaggy mane. Layla's chin hung silently on her chest. The gyrations many had fought not to watch stilled. The nude's body hung in an agonizing state of repose. The thin chain dangled from a tit. Wood of the upright and crossbeam stood charred. The few soldiers left behind to guard turned to join the others heading back to the city, their task completed.

Days later Layla's avenging army would come across the corpse as they traveled along the road. Before attacking the city their leaders respectfully took down the body. A short burial and memorial followed. As if they needed more motivation, seeing the crucifixion gave further impetus. Revenge would be theirs-swift and sweet.