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Ch 19
Lila hung, senseless, from the cross. That last scream took her beyond the realm of consciousness, into the blackness of oblivion. Aisha let her hang, mercifully unconscious, while she awaited instructions from Manu.
It took a long time for him to stand and approach the inert hanging body.
“Help me,” he asked Aisha.
Together they released the Lila’s tortured body and laid her, face down, on the floor. She did not regain consciousness during this process, and only faint moans revealed that she was, as yet, still alive. Her back was a raw, seeping wound; a mute omen to what her front would be, in a short time.
“We will let our victim recover her strength,” Manu informed the public.
It did not take long, for Lila to return to the world of pain that now was her entire universe. Her flayed back, burned by the alcohol first, and now also by the fierce tropical sun, screamed its agony into her brain. Her arms moved, weakly on the stage, her legs writhed, in a futile effort to relieve the fire grilling her back and ass.
Aisha approached her and helped her to her knees. She could not stand, and to make her sit on her raw ass would be unnecessarily cruel. On her knees, Lila drank the fluids she was offered; the water and sugar that would, if she was unfortunate enough, keep her alive until the evening. She wished she was able to refuse them, to accelerate the end, but her thirst would not be denied and, despite her better judgment, she drank deeply.
After about an hour, Manu and Aisha helped her to her feet. Still unable to stand on her own, much less walk to the cross, they had to carry her to the wooden X. Her weak moans of pain, when her back touched the rough wood were heart rending to Manu and Aisha; the rest of the spectators however did not hear them.
They fastened her wrists to the cross beams and let her body hang, limp, until her ankles were duly attached to the cross. Her head, fallen on her chest, partially hid her nose ring, but her breasts, although inflamed and swollen, still stood proudly on her heaving chest, the heavy rings, hanging from her areolas.
Aisha kissed her on the lips, and presented her with the blood and gore crusted whip. Lila kissed it again.
Aisha offered the whip to Manu who picked it up with unwilling hands.
On another day, on a different victim, he would have started on the front of the thighs, where the less sensitive and thicker skin would have allowed for an elegant crescendo of pain, first the thighs, then the soft skin of the belly, and for the last act, the breasts with their sensitive nipples. On a different day, on a different victim.
The first lash fell across her breasts, ripping their skin and tearing the soft tissue. She screamed weakly, not having the strength, or breath, to do more.
On a different day, on a different victim, he would have timed the lashes, to let the pain from each one crest, and then ebb, to let the victim savor each lash, to the fullest; the timing also would be irregular, to exact further torment from the victim, who would not be able to predict, or prepare for each successive lash.
It is doubtful that Lila would have appreciated such niceties, had Manu bothered with them; she would not have responded differently; she had not the strength.
As it was, the lashes fell on her breasts, fast and furious, as the blood streamed down, in red rivulets over her white belly, and splashed in crimson droplets across the stage and even on to the white robes of the sheik.
Blinded by his own tears, Manu now targeted the soft belly of his beloved; the strength of his lashes hitting her limp body hid, for a while, the fact that she no longer responded to each cut, not even with a whimper.
Aisha restored her with smelling salts, and brought her water to drink. Lila refused the water, not out of strength of will, rather she was so short of breath that she could not drink, only breathe, gasp for air.
Manu resumed her lashing, but it did not last long. He lashed her thighs, almost perfunctorily, and, as before, let Aisha spray the limp body with alcohol. Lila barely writhed when the burning liquid hit her raw flesh.
He did not hear the ovation the spectators gave him. He took a cursory bow and, with Aisha’s help, he released the, now mercifully unconscious, body from the frame. Placing her on a gurney, they took her back to the dungeon.
They covered her body with a sheet, and placed a small pillow under her head. Unresponsive, barely breathing, Lila remained, lying on the gurney, inert, almost lifeless.
When Lila crafted the whole plan of torture that would lead to her inevitable demise, she knew that, by this time, she might be unable to drink much, and that dehydration would greatly speed her on her way. She also knew that the sheik would interpret a speedy death as treason from his employee. Thus, the plans, as written, called for her to receive large amounts of IV fluids at this time.
Manu, however did not follow the plan.
“Aisha, let’s go to bed.” And he turned off the lights, leaving the unconscious Lila lying on the gurney.
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