The prelate was pleased that his new young wife had joined him in the sadistic fetishes his office allowed him to indulge. They now visited the crucifixion hill about once a month to observe and play with the condemned as they suffered.
It peaked when their was an execution. Julia would begin asking about the next crucifixion, who it would be, when it would be. As the time approached and anticipation built, their sexual encounters became more wild, dangerous, and frequent. The day before an execution Julia would sometimes come to the prelate during an audience with other officials, make an excuse to draw him away, and then take him just outside the great hall where surely their cries of lust and pleasure could be overheard echoing against the stone walls.
One night Julia was laying on her side while the prelate penetrated her from behind, his arms around her breasts as he pushed deep into her. One of her legs was raised and thrust back over him to expose herself and give him access more easily, and her soft panting as he thrust encouraged him on.
In front of them the door to their chamber opened and Julia's new maid Hestia entered, intruding on the couple's passion. She stopped in surprise, flushed, and began to back out.
"I'm sorry, m'lady... I thought you had said to come..."
"Wait!" Julia called out at the maid turned to go. The prelate stopped his thrusting in surprise, wondering what was happening. The household staff were Julia's responsibility.
"Did you see what is happening here?" Julia asked sternly, allowing the prelate's member to slip out of her as she rolled over and then rose out of the bed.
"Yes, ma'am... I didn't mean to intrude..." Hestia stood uncertain.
"Did it arouse you?" Julia, still naked, walked closer to the maid. Julia had a spectacular body; smooth and young, firm, perfect pert breasts and long strong legs.
Hestia lowered her head and said, "I mean no disrespect, but... of course, you and your husband are..."
"Join us." Julia said. The maid opened her eyes wide and the prelate looked a little shocked, though pleased. Julia took Hestia's hand and pulled her toward the bed. Her dress slipped off quickly, revealing a supple body almost as beautiful as Julia's. Julia's hands slid slowly over the curves of her flesh, sliding over nipples as they became hard, guiding the girl to lay on the bed and spread her legs.
The three made love, and when the prelate grew tired and spent, Julia continued with Hestia, wringing more orgasms from her, exploring her body and penetrating it in ways not even her husband had. The early morning sun found the three of them in a tangle of exhausted and sweaty limbs, sleeping together soundly.
Hestia was drawn into a continuing affair with the prelate and his wife which went on for several weeks. It was pleasurable, yes. She enjoyed it, and found that she became a favorite in the palace. Yet she sensed that Julia was insatiable and desired more than she could ever give. Julia was dangerous, the situation was dangerous, and Hestia became frightened.
It still came as a surprise when she was arrested. Three guards found her where she was washing clothes near the back of the palace, grabbed her and placed her in irons. She was dragged before the prelate in his council hall where she stood dazed.
Julia stood on the dais with her husband, looking upset. She pointed at the maid, declaring in a loud voice, "There she is! The thief! She has been robbing me blind for the last month!"
Hestia stood in disbelief as two rather nasty looking men were brought forward and when questioned, admitted that they had purchased personal items of value from the maid such as a pearl hair comb, a gold necklace, and other jewelry. Hestia cried out that she had not taken these things, but Julia stood tall and said, "I saw you. I saw you last night when you though I was asleep, you took my onyx clasp when you left the room!"
That was it. The evidence was in. In spite of her protests, Hestia stood in shock as the prelate pronounced the guilty verdict and sentenced her to execution on the cross two days hence. She was then dragged away, weakened with shock and unable to walk. Taken to a dank cellar of the west wing of the palace, she was thrown into a dark windowless cell with no furniture and a dirt floor. A heavy door shut and she curled up in darkness.
Late that night, Julia came to the cell to visit her maid. Hestia fell on her face, begging for mercy, assuring her mistress that she had not stolen.
"Of course you didn't, dear. I sold some of those items and the rest are safe where they belong. But you... well, you are doomed. I just came to touch you, to observe you, to feel your anguish and see what it is like for you to know that soon you will be nailed to a tree and hung naked for all to see until you die. Tell me. Tell me what you feel."
Julia reached out to Hestia, the woman she had kissed and made love to for more than a month, and caressed her young pretty face, raising it so she could see. Hestia sobbed, pleading for mercy. Julia reached out, slipping her hand under the woman's thin robe, touching the fine shape of her soft breasts, feeling the gasping sobs. She raised Hestia up until she was on her knees, and then bent and kissed her full on the lips.
"I look forward to experiencing your suffering, Hestia. I have looked forward to it and felt it each time I touched your beautiful body for the last few weeks." Julia ran her fingers through the young maid's hair, caressing her, and then stood and left the cell.
They don't bother to feed condemned prisoners, so two days later when the door opened and Hestia was pulled out of the darkness, she was faint with hunger. They gave her water, which she gulped down. She didn't realize it would probably be the last drink of her life, but she drank as if it was. The guards then led her up the stone stairs to a small private courtyard where the prelate and Julia waited with several others, including a rough looking man wearing black clothing.
The guards pulled Hestia over to a tall pole in the middle of the courtyard. Hestia had never seen an execution so she had no idea that she would be first whipped. Her arms were pulled high above her head, stretching her lean body out. The Centurion then grabbed her robe and pulled, yanking hard and tearing the material until it fell away from her body. Hestia hung naked before those gathered to observer her punishment.
The prelate gave the signal and the man in black, the executioner, took a cruel looking whip and swung it around several times, finally letting it loose so that it kissed Hestia's naked body. At this first stroke, Hestia screamed loudly, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Her naked body wriggled, uselessly struggled to get free as the whip swung around and struck her again.
"Thank you so much for letting me watch, my dear," Julia whispered to her husband as she watched red streaks appear on the back of her former lover. "I'm so excited!"
The prelate kissed his young wife, and turned to watch the spectacle himself. Stroke after stroke slowly turned the young girl's back into a criss cross of bright red cuts which bled in trickles down. She had stopped struggling now, her weak condition bringing her to a state of exhaustion, but the whipping continued.
39 strokes. 41 was considered a death sentence and never administered. Hestia hung limp, her young body still shapely in spite of the ragged wounds from the whip. They left her hanging there as the guards brought over the heavy cross beam to which she would be nailed. It wasn't common to have the female condemned carry the patibulum, but Julia had insisted. She wanted to see Hestia struggle and work to drag it to the place of her execution.
Julia watched in fascination as Hestia struggled, trying to give up but prodded with spears and the whip to get up and carry the cross beam. The prelate in turn watched his wife observing her gorgeous face and body as she focused on the victim's pain, wishing he could take her right then. Her leaned over to her and whispered.
"I want to fuck you now, when the nails go into her wrists. I need to feel you. I want to thrust into you as the nails go in."
Julia turned her head to her husband, not taking her eyes off the victim. "I want you too. I need you pounding inside me. Her pain is my pleasure. But the execution is public..."
Hestia finally was on her feet and struggling out the gate to the road which would ascend the hill to the crucifixion place. The road was already lined with many people who were waiting to observer the spectacle of a young girl stripped and whipped, struggling with the heavy patibulum up the hill where she would be nailed. Word had gotten out it was a special execution; the victim was a young and lovely girl. Men and a few women jeered and laughed at Hestia as she struggled along the dirt road.
The girl couldn't make it to the top of the hill. She collapsed and no amount of prodding could get her to move more than a few feet, so the guards lifted the beam between them and dragged her the last 100 yards. There they dropped her on her back with a *whump*, which in turn pulled a scream from the poor girl.
The prelate and his wife arrived soon after. The crowd of onlookers was pushed back to create a space and the executioner got to work. Producing heavy spikes, he knelt beside the girl's outstretched arms which were still tied to the beam. Placing one spike at just the right spot at the small, delicate wrist, he raised his hammer. Hestia saw the hammer go up and screamed out, realizing what was about to happen.
"NO! No! Please, mercy no!!!!"
Her cry morphed into a guttural scream when the hammer slammed into the nail which pierced her flesh and drove through her arm, spreading and separating the bones in her wrist. She continued screaming as the spike was pounded through the arm, out the other side and into the heavy wood beneath.
Hestia's naked body was writhing on the ground from the pain. The crowd, pushed back a ways, watched the obscene sight of the young girl exposing herself, unaware of anything but her vain struggles. Those who had gathered to watch but could not see listened to the young girlish screams, and envisioned what was happening so close to them.
The executioner switched sides, positioned the nail, and slammed it through the remarkably white, smooth flesh of the young girls wrist. Three strokes was all it took to drive it through the flesh and bone and embed it well in the wood. The girl continued to scream from the pain, though her cries began to quiet as her strength and voice failed. Her legs kicked, pushing against the dirt below her, aimlessly trying to move her body.
Guards removed the rope which had held Hestia's arms to the wood beam. They were no longer needed; the nails served to keep her arms in place. They dragged Hestia over to where the stipes was embedded in the ground. The stipes was a permanent post used for crucifixions; the victim was nailed to the patibulum and then raised to the top of the stipes where the victim would hang on display until dead.
The guards lifted the small girl's form on short ladders until the crossbeam slid over the top of the upright stipes and then slid down into place. Hestia moaned and grunted, unable to scream as more and more of her weight was supported by the nails through her wrists. She continued gasping, her chest and stomach expanding in and out, breasts heaving, legs swinging idly.
During this process Julia had positioned herself to stand just in front of the prelate. She felt him behind her, pressing into her body through her robe. He had an erection which pressed into her buttocks. She reached around discreetly and took it in hand, grabbing it through the cloth of his royal robe, and squeezing it. He moaned, placing his hands on her shoulders and pulling her back against him as they watched Hestia raised into place.
The perverted couple watched as the young girl they had debauched and used in sex games for the last few weeks hung from the cross, dangling from nails in her wrists, struggling weakly. Julia continued to massage the prelates massive cock, guiding it to press between her buttocks even though they were both clothed with robes. All eyes were on the poor girl hanging naked from the cross.
It took a while for the guards and Centurion to put away the materials they had used so far, and while they were working elsewhere Hestia simply hung in place, in agony, weight completely held by two small spikes which had shattered through her wrists. She struggled to breathe, sweat poured down her face, her legs kicked against the stipes, which was rubbed smooth from prior executions.
Finally the executioner brought the final nail over. Two guard grabbed Hestia's pretty legs, bending them at the knee and lifting them slightly. The girl was small, and so her feet was positioned higher up the stipes than previous prisoners. When the angle of the legs was right, her knees were spread to expose her naked genitals and her feet placed one on top of each other against the cross. The executioner took the last spike, placed the point on the top foot just below the ankle, and then hammered.
As the final spike pushed and spread the foot bones apart, Hestia screamed once again, raggedly, painfully, releasing all her agony out into one single long scream that ended in a gurgling silence broken only by the last two metallic clangs of the hammer driving the spike home into the wood.
It was done. Hestia was nailed to the cross. The prelate felt his wife stroking his hardened member rapidly, and released his lust in a shuddering orgasm. He spurted semen out, wetting the inside of his robe, urged on by his wife's young but experienced hand. He made no noise except a very quiet groan as he ejaculated, his eyes on the face of his former lover contorted with agony on the cross.
And so began Hestia's ending. She would not move from this last place, this last position. The crowd gathered around her, observer her exposed body, leering over her clear agony. Some members of the crowd left, overwhelmed by the display, unable to take it. Others remained, watching this odd decoration in horrible fascination.
It was always the same, and though Hestia was younger, more beautiful, and smaller than most victims of the cross, her behavior was the same. At first, she hung there, rasping breath going in and out, head sagging. Sweat from the direct sun trickled down her body. This loss of water would be part of her undoing; the heat would leech the water out of her body and quicken dehydration and death. After about an hour, she urinated. She did it intentionally, letting her bladder go, unable to hold it. She turned her head to the side in humiliation.
After two hours she raised herself for the first time. Most victims raised themselves earlier, for some reason Hestia hung still for longer. With a scream and grunting agony, she pushed on the nail that spiked her feet, pulled on the nails in her wrists, and pushed as upright as she could. The position relieved some of the building pain throughout her shoulders, arms, back and hips, but came with a price. Her weight was transferred to the incredibly sensitive nerves in her feet, which made her scream out in pain once again, and slide back down.
At this display, the prelate and his wife left Hestia to dine at home. They would return later that night. They would clear the area of guards and spectators if there were any. Then they would make love to each other in front of her where she could see, and perhaps even work to stimulate and sexually arouse the poor girl suffering on the cross, her agony adding to their perverse pleasure. She was their lover, even while suffering on the cross. Perhaps... because she was suffering on the cross.
The prelate and his wife were sinking deeper into their debauched sadistic obsession.