Render Unto Caeser

V

Rebecca's Nightmare

Olivia surveyed her sobbing handiwork. She ran her hand lightly across the bleeding stripes that crossed the girl's bottom. Rebecca shuddered as Olivia's hand glided over the crevice of her ass, fingers probed down the crease and lightly over her puckered opening. It was not lost on me that her squirming rump had been set at a perfect height for the slave so perhaps some lucky soldier might enjoy himself when darkness came and the crowds had returned to their homes.

It was not unusual for a woman nailed to the shorter crux humulis to be raped. They were lower to the ground and therefor accessible. Actually it was probably unusual for them not to be raped before they died. Usually they were slaves or worse and no one cared what happened to them as they were dying. It tended to happen at night so the public's sensibilities wouldn't be offended. It was actually a small mercy for the buffeting and jerking about from such an assault often opened the nail wounds in the wrist and ankles and the woman tended to bleed out and die that much sooner.

As if reading my thoughts Olivia said, " Don't let the men be too rough with her." I must have looked startled, Could this witch read minds? "I know soldiers can be so rough." Olivia said to me. " But I'll be back to talk to her in the morning so you cannot let her die on me." "I will personally look after her this evening First Consort." I assured her. "She will be well taken care of." Olivia nodded gravely then broke into a broad grin. I threw my head back and laughed as I realized how my words might have been taken. Once the sun went down and the crowd headed home the men could stand in line behind me. Rebecca would be well taken care of indeed. Olivia and I moved away from the cross heading down the hill.

Now that it was completed and Rebecca was alone on the hilltop the crowd became more appreciative of the display Olivia had created for them. Rebecca was pressed against the rough wood of the stipes with her knees widely parted. Her thighs clutched at the upright like a whore climbing up onto her patron. She remained motionless for as long as possible but finally pushed herself upward stretching against the cross until her head was above the crossbeam. She rested her chin over the top of the cross panting until her legs began to tremble. Her head tilted backward and she slid slowly back down the cross. Her only respites coming when she pressed her crotch onto the wood protruding from the stipes. Her every movement was a pain filled parody of the sex act. The crowd warmed to the sight shouting insults at the helpless girl as she struggled to rise once again on her cross. Olivia and I reached the palanquin at the bottom of the hill.

Half of Olivia's military escort remained at the base of the hill guarding Rebecca's cross. Olivia arranged herself on her palanquin reclining on her left side so she faced me. She still managed to look quite regal in her blood stained white robe. Four of her slaves lifted the litter while the other two fell into line behind and the rest of her guard took up positions around her. We crossed the road easily the crowd parting to let us pass. When we reached the original execution site the two slaves went to retrieve the sedan chair and Olivia spoke to me a final time.

" I will be back to check on my little slave." She told me, her tone quiet and somber. "I hope you realize I am serious about you protecting her through the night." I looked up at the reclining woman the worry clearly showing on my face. She broke into a benevolent smile that was almost as intimidating as her frown. "Oh don't worry your men can have their fun. Just keep her alive that's all I require. She is my slave and she will not die without my permission."

I have faced the Gaul's in battle and survived the campaign against the Teutonic tribes. None would dared call me a coward to my face. Still this sweet smiling woman, reclining in her blood stained robe, sent a shiver down my spine. I certainly would do whatever I could to keep the Elder's daughter alive and suffering until Olivia decided to release her.

Olivia and her retinue departed, heading back into the city. We settled in for a long day of guarding those who were condemned to a slow death. A jug of water was sent over to Rebecca's hilltop. A thorough inspection of the prisoners clothing revealed a single gold coin and several small gems sewn into the hem of the priest robe. There was nothing else of value. We kept the loincloths and the yellow slip of cloth that Rebecca had worn. The rest of the clothes were tossed into the crowd where they were torn apart for souvenirs.

As the sun approached its zenith we watered the parched criminals. The crux humulis, which held the priest, was low enough to give him water directly from a leather campaign cup. The other two prisoners sucked water from a scrap of soaked loincloth stuck on the tip of a pilum. The condemned had each fallen into their own rhythm rising and sinking as the strength of their legs allowed. The sun had begun to burn the paler parts of the their flesh and flies were exploring the nail wounds. The prisoners would twitch in discomfort but they were helpless to fend off the obnoxious bugs. They remained mostly quiet conserving their strength while the crowd taunted and insulted them.

I personally journeyed across the road to make sure Rebecca received her water. The sun had begun to work on her pale flesh as well. She had lost any semblance of the dignified woman who had walked at the side of her aging father as they were marched toward the capital. I stood next to her cross studying her sweating body as it slithered up along the stipes. The valley between her breasts was scraped raw where she rubbed against the rough wood in her upward struggle. Her thighs were beginning to chafe where they clutched and gripped at the stipes. She groaned and slipped back down the stipes too engrossed in her present suffering to acknowledge my presence. Once again she sank down to rest on her precarious perch. I offered her watered wine from my own cup. She gulped the liquid eagerly and the excess ran down her chin. I pulled my eyes away from her bruised breasts and striped torso and looked out over the multitude.

It was amusing to watch the crowd as I stood beside Rebecca's cross. They would stare intently at Judith's naked torso rising up then sliding down on the cornu while she wept piteously. Her breasts would tremble as she panted standing erect but would be drawn upward as she sank back down on her horn. Then Rebecca would let out a gasp or groan and the crowd would turn as one their backs now to Judith so they might gaze upon the lovely Rebecca as she slithered down from the height of her cross to grind her hips against the wood.

Mid day approached and some of the more enterprising merchants moved among the crowd. They had left their stalls at the deserted central market and were now selling their wares to the hungry spectators. Skewers of roasted goat, flatbread, water, wine and honey cakes; all could be had though the prices were exorbitant. Marcus waded into the crowd with the treasure we had found in the priest clothing. Marcus was an excellent haggler and he soon returned with meat and wine to supplement the men's rations of grain and water. We graciously shared our bounty with the men from the Governor's foot guard. Several of the men went over to the priests cross thanking him personally for his generous contribution as the waved the wine flasks and meat under the man's nose. He sputtered curses at them but soon decided to save his breath.

The sun moved past its zenith and began it's descent. The four criminals struggled up and down on their crosses each at their own pace as pain and exhaustion dictated. Judith urinated into the dirt while the crowed jeered and teased her. We watered all the prisoners a second time. The priest had stopped sweating; his bright red skin was hot and dry to the touch. I directed that the leather cinch be removed from his penis and he immediately emptied his bladder. He was given more water but his struggles lacked strength and it didn't seem likely that he would last through the night. The elder remained mostly silent intently watching his daughter as she struggled on her cross across the road. Tears no longer flowed from his eyes. His mouth moved in soundless prayer but it seemed his gods had deserted him.

The crowd had thinned somewhat. The road was still packed but now there was some movement as people that had seen their fill headed back toward the city and new spectators pushed forward for a better view. The women were the main attraction of course. While it was amusing to jeer and tease the struggling victims they were all becoming sluggish now and remained silent in response to the audience's witty barbs. Eventually the spectators tired and moved on. The road was soon open enough for traffic to enter and leave the city though the crowds slowed to view the four crosses before continuing on their way.

Our relief column arrived at mid afternoon. Twenty soldiers relived the men at both sites. Ten men from the relief column replaced the men of the Governor's foot guard and the remainder took up position around the original execution site. Ordinarily I would have returned to the barracks with the first watch but the words of Olivia's charge still rang in my ears. The thought of Rebecca's choice little bottom squirming in the darkness was also at the back of my mind.

Now that the crowd had thinned, the guard was mostly posted to keep scavengers and carrion feeders away. No one seriously considered that anyone would try to rescue this pathetic group. By this point the crowd could be held back with just five or six soldiers at the base of each hill. The remaining soldiers rested beneath the crosses and amused themselves as soldiers often do. They spent their time gambling, drinking, complaining, and harassing the condemned. The men resting below Rebecca's cross spent a good deal of time loudly discussing their plans for the evening's entertainment. She had been sensibly ignoring them, as nothing she might say would effect her fate in the slightest.

I was across the road watching the criminals slowly dying. My first indication of a problem was when the old man rose up and began to shout out "help her!" in a hoarse cracking voice. It took only a moment to realize his daughter was the problem. Quite suddenly Rebecca had risen up on her legs and begun to scream hysterically as she violent shook her head from side to side. If she kept that up she might tear herself loose from the cross.

Two soldiers playing knucklebones beneath her cross jumped up to restrain her while calling out for more help. I could see from across the road that her nose was bleeding. I hurried across the road to determine the cause of the trouble. I had visions of explaining a dead slave to the First Consort. The curious onlookers traveling the road stopped to speculate about what might cause such a sudden outburst. When I reached the cross the problem became obvious. A great swarm of flies had descended upon Rebecca's patibulum. Whether this was due to the stench of rotting flesh on the used crossbeam or some other attractant didn't really matter. She had managed to smash her nose against the stipes as she violently tried to shake off the flies. While the flies themselves were harmless the swarm was so thick Rebecca was spitting and choking on them. She was screaming frantically while inhaling the tiny creatures with each breath. I lifted the water jug and emptied it over her face. That seemed to disperse the swarm from around her head. I sent for the remaining water from the other hilltop and the patibulum was washed down with the remaining water. Her nose didn't seem to be broken and eventually the bleeding stopped.

I sent two of my men back into the city to refill our water jugs at the central well. We kept watch over the elder's daughter but the problem seemed to be resolved and she was once again embracing her struggle against death, rising and falling upon her cross to an internal rhythm dictated by her strength and her pain. The skin on her shoulders and back had blistered in the afternoon sun. It was really a shame that her beauty should fall so quickly into ruin on the cross.

The sun dropped toward the horizon and with it the temperature plunged. Watch fires were lit on both hilltops before full darkness fell. The naked prisoners shivered in the cool evening breeze. The road cleared of travelers well before the city gates were closed for the night. The Soldiers talked a bit too loudly in the gathering darkness.

We ate our repast of grain and shared the last of the watered wine. The prisoner's thirst was attended to. The men were waiting pensively. I had the men gather up the extra rope and the yellow cloth Rebecca had worn. I ordered two of the men to remain with the first three crosses and the rest of us traversed the road to Rebecca's execution site. Her father's pleaded that we spare her any further degradation and just let her die. The men laughed.

Rebecca's nose was swollen, her breasts were raw, her thighs chafed and torn from her struggles on her cross. Her skin was burnt and she shivered in the cool of the dessert night. She was a mess. I ordered the men to bind her wrists and ankles to the cross with rope so she wouldn't further injure herself as we amused ourselves with her. I raised her hips until she was lifted off her wooden seat then had the men bind her waist with rope. True to my word I was the first in line to use her. She began to plead when I spit onto my hand and started moistening her tight little anus. Her dry husky voice begging me to have mercy stirred my lust and I was into her long before her hole was ready. The ropes kept her from aggravating the nail wounds in her wrists and feet. Still she screeched in pain while I cheerfully ravaged the narrow passage to her bowels. As I emptied my balls into her I grunted out my pleasure. "One down and twenty more to go." I gleefully told her. She kept on screaming until her strained voice was hardly a croak.

The men were in no rush Some teased her sex until she was squirming seductively on her cross and then raped her ass. Others simply wanted to use her quickly and return to the warmth of the watch fires. The old man was still begging us to leave her alone even after we had all had our turn with her. At some point while we were having our fun the priest died on his cross. He did manage to foul himself either before or while he was dying and it stank. Most of the men wanted to remain on Rebecca's side of the road simply because of the stench. I ordered some of the men to rotate across the road so all could have their turn with Rebecca.

One of the men who were stuck across the road with the dead priest, the elder, and Judith decide that it was unfair that Rebecca should have all the fun. He reversed his grip on his pilum and used the butt end of the wooden shaft to tease open Judith's sex. He worked the wooden shaft deep into her nearly lifting her off the horn. She cried out in protest and cursed the man's parentage but there was little else she could do. In the end she wisely conserved her strength while he worked the wooden shaft in and out of her slowly moistening slit. Judith skewered by both her cornu and the spear shaft now danced upon her cross to the tune of the soldier raping her with his pilum. With this new game to entertain them it became less of a chore assigning men across the road, some even volunteered for the chance. This is how we passed the night. When the sight of Judith's dance overly excited one of the men there was always Rebecca's bottom available to slack his lusts.

With the coming of dawn we cleaned up the site. Rebecca's arms ankles and waist was untied. Semen dripped from her well-raped bottom. Her gapping anus was distended and her upper thighs were coated with drying semen. A muddy puddle had formed at the base of her cross . No one would have any doubt as to how she had been despoiled through the night. Still she was alive and relatively unharmed. Olivia should be satisfied. The priest was dead and had loosened his bowels before he left this earth. No one was going to volunteer to clean up that mess so I ordered two of the men to wash down the cross and body using the discarded loincloths. It helped make the site a bit more tolerable though the stench of the dead body would only get worse with time. As the sun rose the three remaining criminals were given water.

Olivia arrived shortly after sunrise with the morning relief column. She complained about the smell and ordered the priest's body be removed. We pulled the corpse down and dragged it behind the hill, downwind. Olivia fussed over her slave, Rebecca giving her some wine and having one of her slaves apply an unguent to her sunburned skin. She inquired about the injured nose and I explained how it had occurred. Olivia seemed satisfied.

The woman seemed overly concerned about a condemned slave though I wasn't about to inquire about her unusual interest. Olivia eventually answered my question without my asking. " If she lives past noon I will have won our bet. The Govoner was sure she was too delicate to last a full day on the cross." I assured her there was no reason Rebecca wouldn't survive the next few hours. I was tired and not thinking very clearly. " I'm sure the men will see that she lives through the day. They much prefer using a warm squirming body, to the touch a cold corpse." Olivia wasn't shocked by my crudity; she seemed totally unconcerned. "Just so long as she lasts past midday, I have 1000 denarii depending on her living that long." My clenched right fist snapped to my chest in a sharp military salute "It shall be done." I assured the First Consort

When the sun passed over it's zenith we sent word to the First Consort that Rebecca still lived. I remained at the execution site until the afternoon relief column appeared then retired to the barracks with my men.