Cheerleader Sleepover The Judge and Jury EditionChapter 2
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Layla's Judge, Jury And Crucifixion free porn video
The following fantasy fiction is intended solely for ADULT ONLY personalenjoyment and only where local standards permit such content. Should you bein any way troubled by themes dealing with extreme torture and abuse pleasedo not read any further.
Use of the "Faibhar" name any or all posted works for uses other than personalwithout the author's expressed permission is strongly discouraged.
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Faibhar
Layla's Judge Jury
And
Crucifixion
The one good eye Brocchus had left glinted with something akin to self-satisfactionas the three first fingers of his right hand formed a gnarled wedge and easilyslipped between the flared lips dividing the mossy hairs. The prisoner provedmuch more docile following the rapes and being abused as a punching bag ofsorts. Scale armor, stubbornly worn though his fight days were long past, rustledas the dungeon assistant knelt over the nude. Semen from various donors squishedfree from the intruding digits. Once inside Brocchus hooked the fingers up,grunted and got to his feet. The prisoner moaned as her pelvis was lifted.Long arms trailed along her sides as she was dragged to another end of thedungeon.
"Time to stand, bitch. There's someone here you should meet."
Oppius Gellius Sorae nonchalantly waited for the defendant's wobbling tocease. The female before him did excite. He took great pains not to show hislustful ardor and thereby show any human weakness to his minions. He was, afterall a great governor. Stroking a well-maintained beard he indifferently sippedmore excellent wine from the gilded chalice. Absently examining the five gaudyrings on one hand he conceded that while good taste might dictate only onering to be worn by respectable males such decorum was not for him. He was style,glam, bling-bling and so what? Besides she already was steadying herself, noone the wiser to his insouciant pose.
Gellius at last spoke. "As an enemy of Caesar, I sentence you to death bycrucifixion." Clearing his throat more for drama than for any malady, the silver-hairedgovernor continued. "But as an acclaimed leader of your…barbarous peopleyou will first be tortured." He leaned purposefully forward from his chairfor emphasis. Concerned that his words seemingly had little effect on the restoredcountenance of the female before him, he further menaced his baritone and sternlysaid, "Consider the rapes and beatings you have already received just the beginningof more to come. All leading to your execution on the cross." Looking at theoverweight dungeon assistant with his silly armor bracing the prisoner he puzzled. "Despitethe split lip and other bruises she does look fine, but what about those?"
Layla fought to keep her own balance. She was hurt and in the enemy's' handsbut otherwise her head was clearing. What she saw seated before her disgusted.Her fate was to be decided by this flagrant violator of every code held dearby the fashion police. In defiance she shook back fallen strands of dark hairand glared at the one they called Gellius.
Eager to please as a lap dog is for his dinner bowl Brocchus hoped to gainwhat favor he could by directly being of service and anticipating his leader'severy wish. "You mean those?" He indicated the prisoner's large pink aureoles.
"Yes those! Or more exactly those…those…whatever they are called.Where are those things at the tips of her tits?" Consternation mingled withimpatience colored Gellius' bark.
Layla held her gaze. What she saw was a much-agitated old man ludicrouslyattired. The earrings and rings lent a bad name to accessorizing. "Are youreferring," she calmly said, "To my inverted nipples?"
Relieved that rescue had come from such an unexpected source Brocchus attemptedto further placate Gellius and said, "Oh those. They're there. All it takesis a little fixing…"
"Then do it and make it quick. I wish to see."
The tone of the command left little time to contemplate. Grabbing her shoulderBrocchus drew the prisoner away. To the far wall he chained her arms up andout. Looping thick rope around an ankle he passed an end through an iron loopset into the stone floor and used his back for added force as he pulled. Quicklythe naked prisoner was stretched across the wall. Wiping a brow sweating fromsuch speedy and tedious work, Brocchus reached for his small dagger.
Layla tested the bonds, but could not move. She looked down her chest tosee stained fingers wrap around a breast and then squeeze. Sucking in her breathshe turned her head up and shut her eyes. She felt a sharp tip prick her rightbreast followed by excruciating pain that blinded her senses.
The dagger clattered on the stone as it fell from his hand. Brocchus neededto catch his breath. Sitting on the floor he wearily looked up. Sweat coveredhim. The prisoner's bowed head did not move. Only the slight beat of her stomachshowed him that life remained. Twin rivers of blood cascaded down each flank.Amongst the shiny crimson Brocchus knew there stood two nipples that he himselfhad dug out. Blood seemed to coat the floor, his hands, and armor everywhere.
"Well wash her down so that I can see," the bark sneered.
He recognized the voice of Gellius and started. It sounded just behind him.Twisting around he saw that Opius Gellius Sorae had left his seat and now stoodalmost on top of him. Brocchus grabbed a bucket of water and threw it at thehanging figure.
Slowly making long strokes of his beard Gellius smiled and said, "You havedone well" Two red dots appeared in the center of pink pools set high on eachfull tit. "Give her three days to recover in a cell, but first dress her inthis gown."
Layla felt her arms being lowered and feet freed. She still could not raiseher head and cringed as the light gown was passed over her head and acrossher raw chest. She did not protest as she was led away. Each waft of air hurtthe now extracted nipples. Diaphanous though the material may be it still feltlike lead. The silky fabric rubbed as sand and glass shards across freshlyexposed nerves. Layla stumbled, hoping that the journey through the dim hallto her cell would be short.
It was too tight. What must have been some sort of decoration along the scoopneckline had been torn away. The sleeves barely reached to her elbows. Transparencyof the material hid nothing. Bleeding stopped, replaced by a darkening of theentire area. Layla's chest throbbed in agony, the rest of her body one massivebruise. The dress she had been given would prove no help-a bitter commentaryon the price some had to pay for fashion. Shifting position in the cramp cellproved a challenge.
She spent most of her confined time imaging the forest steppes of her childhooddodging around the many hiding places amongst the craggy ravines and tall oaks,feeling her body grow victorious as she scaled the mountains. Unfortunatelysuch dreams too often were interrupted by the recent ambush, the capture ofthe hunting party she led, and the merciless dispatch of everyone, save forher.
They came on the third day with a signal that further tortures were on theway…
To be continued…
Marisol
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