Render Unto Caeser

III

Judith's Demise

I glanced toward the city gate. There was no sign of the high priests or a messenger from the Governor. I sighed and looked at the one called Judith. Women in this culture were not permitted to gird their loins. She would be naked beneath her robe.

"Strip her to the waist and flog her." I told the executioner. He looked hurt and disappointed. He tied a rope around her waist the split her robe down the back. Her hands were untied so the robe could be slipped off her shoulders and pulled down to he waist. The crowed cheered appreciatively at the sight of her breasts. Though some were already yelling out, demanding she be stripped completely. She was led over to the last stipes and bound facing it. The executioner stood a pace behind her and to the right, he began her scourging. He took his time savoring every lash taking particular pleasure when the thin leather straps wrapped around her chest to mark the sides of her breast. With the twentieth lash he moved to her left side so he could mark her other breast. She wailed and cried out in agony as the blows landed. A restive quiet descended over the mob. This was what the crowd had really come for, a chance to watch a pretty young woman suffer and die in agony. I glanced again at the gate; there was still no sign of a message from the Governor.

In the past the Governor had sometimes made concessions to the local religious leaders and allowed loincloths on the men, and a girdle of cloth around the waist of the women, who were to be executed. It was not a hard and fast rule. I had no intention of trying to dress a prisoner who was hanging naked from the cross; the crowed had come out to see this woman naked, and nailed to a cross. On the other hand I could nail her up with a bit of cloth around her hips and strip it off later when word finally arrived, but the crowd was hardly in a patient mood. I tried to think of the best way I could delay.

The scourging ended and the woman was released from the stipes. She tried to collapse to the ground but a soldier held her up from behind and turned her toward the crowd so they could admire welts that now marked the sides of her breasts. The executioner and two soldiers began working loose the wooden wedges and rocks that held the stipes firmly in its hole. Once the stipes was free it was laid down on the ground and the patibulum was attached. I glanced again at the gate but there was still no sign of the temple priests. The crowd was becoming boisterous, shouting out their demands; "strip the bitch", "nail the whore", and " crucify her". None of this was happening fast enough for them. Soon they had picked a unifying chant "Cru-ci-fy Her! Cru-ci-fy Her! Cru-ci-fy Her!" They screamed the words with gathering fervor as they found the rhythm of their chant. The girl turned pale as she listened to the chanting crowd demanding her blood.

I looked over the area. I had a crucified priest who would die long before he had a chance to properly suffer, and old man who was doing as well as could be hoped for, and a half dressed woman who was agitating the crowd into a state of near anarchy.

I made an inspired decision. I walked over to the woman and garbed her by the hair. The startled soldiers released her. I marched her over to the crux humilis where the fat little priest hung lifelessly. I forced her down onto her knees facing the priest. I pulled her face up and pushed it into his crotch so she would have no question as to what was expected. The look of disgust on her face only added to my determination. " Suck some life into this worthless turd and you might live a little longer" I growled at her. She glared at me with pure hatred; her jaw was clenched tight in defiance. I released my grip on her hair and held my right hand out behind me, palm up. It took only a moment for one of my men to retrieve the flagellum from the dirt and slap the handle into my outstretched hand. The flagellum whistled as it slashed through the air.

" YOU! …WILL!… DO!… AS!…I!…COMAND!" I roared at the girl punctuating each word with a lash from the whip. Where our carpenter had used his skill and finesse with the flagellum to decorate her body with pretty stripes. I used anger and brute strength to emphasize my demands. By the sixth lash she was groveling face down in the dirt with blood oozing from dozens of fresh welts.

"Get up!" I commanded and she struggled back up onto her knees. She looked up at me and every trace of defiance had vanished. I pointed toward the priest and she winced but nodded. She drew a deep trembling breath. She looked like she might retch but she swallowed hard and then took his flaccid penis into her mouth. Slowly she began to move her head back and forth.

The crowed was quick to understand. Men jostled forward for a better view while women gathered up their children and pushed them toward the back of the crowd. The taunts and insults flew as she knelt before the priest her head starting to rock back and forth. The priest began to respond to her ministrations and as his penis grew he stirred on his cross. At first his hips seemed to twitch spasmodically then he began to slowly rise up on his pierced and bleeding feet. When he finally reached the top of his cross he had pulled himself free from her lips. He opened his eyes and took in what was being done to him. He gathered his strength through the haze of pain and then spat down onto the woman cursing her as a Roman whore. Still when his shaking legs forced him to sink back down his hips thrust forward pushing his stirring manhood toward her, searching for the warmth of her mouth.

She turned her head away. I snapped the flagellum and it struck the ground by her knee raising a cloud of dust. Her eyes were full of hatred again as she looked up into my hard gaze. She turned her head back toward the priest.

Reaching out with her right hand she cupped the man's scrotal sac she stretched upward on her knees her tongue darting out to lick at his manhood. The crowd roared out its approval. With her left hand she grasped the stipes to steady herself and managed to pull the tip of his rapidly hardening penis back into her mouth. The crowd hurled insults in three languages but their enthusiasm for the show was unmistakable. She captured him drawing his now turgid member into her mouth continuing her effort, head bobbing as she knelt before the crucified man. The crowed was enthralled and for the moment pacified.

I glanced once more toward the gate. There was some disturbance and the crowd by the gate was being pushed back clearing the road. Hopefully it was word from the Governor. I yanked the girl away from her task. The priest let out a groan of frustration. The woman rose from her knees and stood before the priest. She was a tall woman and when she stood she nearly reached the chin of the man on the cross. She had no trouble landing a glob of spittle directly into his blinking eyes. She had a lot of fight in her; her struggles would be quite entertaining while she lasted. I looked down at the man's bobbing erection and said to one of my soldiers " Tie it off." The soldier cut a leather strap from the man's discarded sandal and cinched it tightly around the base of the man's penis. He would keep his last erection for a while.

A contingent of the Governor's foot guard had forced their way through the gate Four Nubian slaves followed bearing an ornate palanquin. It was still too distant to see individuals but it could only be the Governor's First Consort.

The Governor's wife had remained in Rome to oversee their affairs. She had approved a number of local concubines one of whom had quickly become the Governor's favorite. Her name was Olivia. I had never met her but she was said to be as shrewd as she was beautiful. Her knowledge of the local politics was a boon to the Governor and he used her as an advisor as well as a lover. Olivia had forged alliances among the bickering factions of the local government and helped maintain Rome's peace in this troubled land. She was respected by her allies and feared by her enemies. She was recognized by some as the true power behind the local governance. Olivia used her influence and power to lighten the yoke of Roman rule on her people. To say that she was beloved by the public was a vast understatement. She was a truly heroic figure to the local populace. She preferred to be addressed as the "First Consort".

It would take them a short while before the First Consort's column could force it's way through the crowd. I decided it was time for the young woman to understand the true reason for her personal condemnation. I pulled the girl over to the old mans cross. " I will not make you dishonor your own father." I told the girl. Relief and confusion played across her face. " This man is not my father." She finally said. " Of course he is, He has already admitted this to the Governor. That's the reason you are here." I told her.

Her confusion quickly gave way to anger and then rage. " You bastard how could you do this to me?" she screamed at the crucified man. She lunged at him beating her fists against the poor mans pinioned legs as she screamed "Tell them the truth you dirty bastard!" Two soldiers quickly pulled her away from the elders cross. " Tell them it's not me, damn it! " she screamed "Tell them it's not supposed to be me!"

The royal palanquin had finally forced its way to the execution site. A second enclosed sedan chair carried by two slaves followed close behind. The slaves gently lowered their burden and the First Consort Olivia stepped down. I understood the wisdom of having the First Consort attend crucifixions. Her presence showed that the local government gave its tacit approval to these executions. This meant that everyone would recognize that we were crucifying criminals here, not creating martyrs, an important consideration in this land crawling with religious zealots and political fanatics.

" Hail Centurion!" Olivia addressed me; she was truly a stunning dark haired beauty. I tried hard not to stare at her. Her eyes passed over the struggling woman beneath the old man cross. She then looked over the two men hanging from their crosses her eyes finally resting on the erection jutting out bellow the priests' belly.

" Is this an execution or a circus?" she demanded. The girl blushed as she saw where the woman was looking. She began to struggle anew held beneath the cross, naked to the waist, while the panting crowd looked on.

"Hail, First Consort." I responded. " I felt a need to entertain the crowd while we awaited final instructions from the Governor. I trust you are not offended." She nodded toward me smiling. Her smile was huge and beatific. It made me wince. This was a very dangerous woman and not one to be trifled with.

" I bring word from our beloved Governor." She said her eyes sweeping over to the now trembling woman. " She will hang naked from the tree of shame, as befits a slut such as she."

" It's not supposed to be me!" Judith sobbed "He's not my father!" "I'm not supposed to be here! Crucify Rebecca not me!" She screamed as four soldiers closed in around her ripping away the last tattered remnants of her robe. The crowed cheered lustily as the execution began once again. Olivia was talking to our executioner. He was nodding enthusiastically as a wide grin spread across the lucky old bastards' face.

The woman was kicking franticly as the soldiers dragged her toward the remaining cross. Her plea was becoming shorter as she became more desperate. " It's not supposed to be me! It's not me! Not me! Not me! " She blubbered but no one was listening. Her thrashing legs were giving everyone close to the hilltop an excellent view of her now naked sex. The crowds' howls and jeers were drowning out her plaintive cries.

The four soldiers brought the struggling woman over to where her cross lay and were about to force her down onto it when Olivia raised her hand. The soldiers halted, holding the hysterical woman trembling in place. "Centurion, do you have any idea what she is talking about?" I sighed and began to describe the entire deception to the First Consort. " She was condemned when the village elder" I said, pointing to the old man on the cross, " told the Governor that she was his daughter. She claims she is not related to the old man and in fact we have every reason to believe she speaks the truth."

The young woman was oblivious to our conversation shivering, naked, before the eager crowd repeating the words " Not me. Not me. Not me. " She spoke almost to herself now, as if the repeating the words would protect her somehow.

The First Consort looked at the girl with all the compassion of a viper. " Is this true?" she asked. The woman's mind was too far-gone to hear or respond and she simply repeated her chant almost in a whisper now. Olivia looked at the village elder now struggling upward on his cross and repeated " Is this true?"

The old man struggled, pushing himself upward against his bleeding feet. When he finally managed to straighten himself completely he drew several quick breaths before he spoke. " Forgive Me." was all he said before his knees buckled and he sank back down onto his sedile. Whether he spoke to Olivia or the naked prisoner was unclear though it wasn't really that important. He had confirmed that he had lied to the Governor. Olivia whispered some instruction to one of her slaves who then scurried off toward the Royal Palanquin.

" Proceed." Olivia said to the soldiers who were holding the trembling woman. They brought her swiftly to the ground stretching her into place on her cross. Two soldiers grabbed her hands, yanking them apart, extending her arms out across the patibulum. Another soldier straddled her chest sitting on her belly pinning her body against the stipes. He grinned down at her, grabbing her by the shoulders, as he leaned forward pressing his body down. His chest squashing down on her crushing her breasts. There was little doubt as to what he would rather be doing with her.

It is said that to be buried deep inside a woman when the nails pierce her wrists is the wildest ride a man can ever experience. I have no first hand knowledge of this, as it would be undignified for a person of my rank and position to be rolling in the mud with a condemned woman as she's nailed in place. Still I've seen it done on a few occasions and none of my men has ever complained about being assigned the duty. If we were conducting the execution in the field I would have been inclined to indulge my men but here in the capital we needed to be a bit more formal.

The fourth soldier knelt by her left wrist ready to assist the executioner. Still the woman whispered "Not me. Not me. Not me." Though she was gasping a bit and having trouble breathing with the soldier's weight pressing down on her chest.

The executioner knelt by her left wrist. The forth soldier pressed the wrist flat against the wood. The executioner placed the tip of his iron spike in the grove between the two bones below her wrist. The crowd became silent as the hammer rose. You could now hear the girls whispered chant growing more urgent as the hammer swept downward. " not me! NOT ME!. NOT MEEEEEEEEEE!" She howled as the spike tore through her flesh and sank into the wood beneath. The three soldiers holding her arms in place struggled to restrain her as she bucked beneath the soldier straddling her torso. He was grinning like a fool as her feet stamped and kicked lifting her hips up off the cross. Her screams became unintelligible shrieks of pure agony.

The executioner pounded away at the spike and quickly had her left wrist secured. One of the soldiers went to grab her flailing feet while the other followed the executioner over to kneel down by her right wrist. The crowd remained eerily quiet drinking in the girls excruciating pain.

Olivia's face was flushed as she looked on with a bemused smile. She seemed to glow, almost trembling with excitement. The hammer rose and fell with the accompanying shrieks but Judith's resistance was quickly fading. She still screeched with each blow of the hammer but her hips squirmed helplessly as one soldier pinioned her feet against the cross and another still straddled her chest. Finally the executioner stood having fastened both her wrists to the crossbeam.

. Olivia's slave had returned from the palanquin and knelt before his Mistress presenting her a silken bag with an object concealed inside. She hastened over to the condemned girl stooping down to gaze into her tormented eyes. Tears ran down the girl's cheeks; she shook her head back and forth once again mumbling " Not supposed to be me."

Olivia spoke to her. " You have been done a grave injustice." she began. The girl just ignored her still mumbling to herself. Olivia knelt in the dirt next to her. She shook the poor girls shoulder but still Judith ignored her so Olivia slapped her across the face. Judith shook her head, startled by the fresh pain, and focussed on Olivia at last.

" A mistake was made. " Olivia stated. " You are condemned to the cross and I can do nothing about that." She continued with seeming sympathy. " It matters very little because everyone you grew up with will be executed in the next few days. You are simply dying a few days early." Judith looked up in puzzlement. Why was this wealthy Lady so concerned about her? "I cannot save you from the cross," Olivia said " but I can make your time upon it a little less painful." She reached into the silk bag and drew forth an object that she held before the startled girl's eyes.

The Ivory was old and ornately carved no doubt the toy of some wealthy lady before it became an instrument used to torment the dying. It was carved into a curved phallus over two hand widths long and as wide as four fingers held together at its base. A penis any man would be proud, one that would make most women squeal. It was a cornu of sorts, but unlike any horn I had ever seen used; most cornu ended in a sharp point that ripped into the guts of its victim while supporting their weight. This one ended with a bulbous head like a penis. It was mounted upon a smooth wooden board with plenty of room to nail it to an upright stipes. As it was presently mounted it could be used on a man or woman as the phallus curved upward so sharply there was only one orifice it would be slipping into. Judith understood what it was meant to represent but had yet to understand how it would be used. " You will thank me for this." Olivia stated flatly. Pain and confusion played across the girl's face and she remained silent. " Before you use this you will offer me your thanks slut." Olivia said. Rising she shook the dirt from her robe. She handed the cornu to the executioner. " What a stupid swine." She commented to no one in particular.

The executioner was determined to make proper use of such an exotic and expensive cornu. That much ivory would be worth half a year's wages even before it was carved. He had the soldier who still straddled his victim drag her torso up toward the top of the stipes until her shoulders were even with the patibulum. Two other soldiers pulled her legs out and straight up into the air. The crowd was murmuring excitedly as they were sure some new torment was being inflicted upon their favorite victim. The executioner used a spike to scratch a mark onto the stipes three finger widths below Judith's anus and positioned the cornu so it's fat rounded head would be level with his mark. He used three small iron spikes to secure the base plate to the stipes. He spit into his hand and rubbed the saliva over Judith's tight little opening and then applied another generous wad of spit to the cornu. He started to pull her hips downward lining the cornu head up with her anus.

" Not until she thanks me." Olivia said to the executioner.

" Shouldn't we make sure it fits?" he asked.

"In a little while she'll be happy to stuff anything up her tight little ass to catch a moments rest." Olivia stated flatly.

They pulled Judith's legs down lining up her hips with the base of the cornu and then forced her feet flat against the stipes. The executioner pushed her feet up a bit more so her knees were well flexed. Two soldiers held her calves while two others pressed her feet into position on the stipes. The executioner reached into his apron and pulled out two more spikes placing one between his teeth. He lined the other one up with the center of her left foot. The hammer struck and her body convulsed in pain. The crowd cheered as she screamed hoarsely. It took two blows to push the iron spike through the arch of her foot and embed it into the wood of the stipes. Another four blows seated the spike firmly into the wood and he began on her right foot. She continued to scream and squirm even as he finished with his hammer and raised both hands over his head.

This was the signal to raise the cross and again eight soldiers moved into position. Two secured the base of the cross while two others raised the top. Once the ends of the patibulum were off the ground rope was looped around them and we began the process of raising the condemned. She was about three feet off the ground when the executioner yelled, " Stop! Wait! We forgot her titulus." With a groan the soldiers lowered the cross once more and the executioner sheepishly nailed the titulus into position over the prisoners head. The cross rose once again this time with no interruption. The woman groaned piteously as her body weight shifted downward, and her wounded wrists and feet began to support her. Judith wailed in pain when the stipes slipped forward thudding into place in its hole. The cross and it's whimpering burden shuddered together as the wedges were pounded into place. I stood next to Olivia admiring the sight. The First Consort sighed contentedly as the soldiers finished with the wooden wedges and piled rocks around the base of the cross.

It was a magnificent sight. The naked bleeding woman trembling as she hung upon the cross knees bent forward and arms stretched taunt. Her breasts quivering as she began to pant for breath trying desperately to expel the stale air in her lungs.

"Remember she is not to use the cornu until she thanks me properly" Olivia said to me. " Have a few men with spears jab her if she tries to mount the horn." I sent two men, each armed with a pilum, to stand at the base of her cross and keep her off the cornu until Olivia allowed it. She struggled upward on her pierced feet when it became impossible to exhale and took great gulping breaths forcing the air from her lungs before she sank back down on trembling legs. The crowd was as enthralled as I was. Clapping and cheering her on as she struggled upward on her bleeding feet and taunting her when she was finally forced to sink back down. She had repeated the process perhaps six times before she tried to rest her hips on the head of the cornu. My men took great delight poking at her rump with their pilum. She squealed in shock from the sharp jabs and sank down once more until her arms were stretched taunt. When it happened again the next time that she raised herself she wasted some of her precious breath to cry out " What do you want from me!"

Olivia moved over to stand at the base of her cross. " I want to hear you thank me for providing you with the lovely horn you want to slide your ass onto." She informed the tormented woman.

" Thank you." She whispered with her last exhalation.

" Thank you Mistress!" Olivia corrected, as her victim once more began to struggle upward on her stipes. " Thank you Mistress for such a fine seat." Olivia repeated while waiting for the woman to finally stand upright on her cross.

" Thank you Mistress for the fine seat." The Judith groaned out in her parched voice and Olivia nodded, satisfied.

"There that wasn't so hard was it?" The First Consort chided the dying woman as though she were a reticent child.

The woman struggled atop the head of the cornu trying to line the bulbous tip up with the tight opening of her anus. Her hips writhed seductively as she tried to balance on the head of the cornu. She might have been trying to relax and open herself to it's penetration but her sweat soaked bottom slipped off and once again she sank down until her arms stretched taunt and her weight was taken up completely by her punctured wrists. She sobbed in frustration and slowly fought to control her breath as her lungs filled once more.

When she had completely lost the fight to exhale and the stale air built up in her lungs, she once again strained upward on trembling legs. The crowd urged her on as her head rose above the patibulum once again hiding her titulus for the moment. The mob cheered loudly at her success, admiring the way her firm breasts shuddered with each gasping breath. Her face grimaced as she held herself over the cornu. She pressed back against the spikes that pinioned her as she rocked her hips back against the stipes. Once she was in position she let her full weight fall. With an explosive grunt she managed to sink down onto the cornu. Once the head had penetrated her she slowly sank down and the horn slipped into her bowels. The screaming horde was delighted with the show jeering loudly and clapping with delight. The girl simply hung in place as fresh tears of shame streamed down her face.

Now that she had five points of attachment some of the weight and the accompanying pain was relieved from her throbbing wounds. Still as she hung impaled upon her horn her arms were drawn upward and backward making it difficult to exhale. It might have taken a bit longer but eventually she was forced to push upward and relieve her constricted chest. She soon learned that she needed to take care not to rise too far on her shaking legs or she would lose her grasp on the cornu. The crowd was delighted when her trembling legs pushed her free of the ivory and she slipped off the cornu; that resulted in a second struggle to impale herself on the shameful horn. After that her movements became slower and more deliberate.

The crowd pushed forward to get a better view of the crucified prisoners. Each of the condemned was engaged in an individual struggle against the pain and exhaustion that would eventually take their life. This early in the process it was already plain to see that the priest would be the first to lose that fight. While all three of them pushed their way upward on their crosses to breath and then sank down to rest their legs the priest was doing it almost twice as often as the other two. They were all three soon bathed in a sheen of sweat. Already the sun was beginning to turn the paler, less often exposed skin a bright pink.

It was only natural that the crowd would show the greatest interest in the female prisoner. Olivia remained next to her cross holding a one sided conversation with the poor girl who was by this time half mad with pain.

Now that all the condemned were secured upon their crosses, most of my soldiers had moved down the hillock forming a circle around the base holding the crowd back. Olivia's escort had taken up a position behind the small hillock near the place where I had hobbled my mount. They guarded the palanquin and sedan chair. I had some suspicion as to what lay within the enclosed sedan chair but I was in no position to investigate the First Consorts property. I had no choice but to wait until she was ready to inform us