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She was taken into the forest with another destined for the cross, a scrap of dirty sack-cloth wrapped around hips, mocking any remaining vestige of modesty. Arms bound, she went deeper into the dark woodland, tied to a tree there, made to wait and watch whilst her companion was crucified. Even the rag on her hips was removed, so that only raw nakedness remained. Long locks of beautiful hair fell languidly in a vain attempt to cover bare breasts forcibly on show. Can there be anything more naked than a woman with a smooth, shaved mons pubis?
Eventually, the rough wooden bar from which she will hang is laid across the soft skin of shoulders and the walk to the place of execution begins. Barefoot, naked, she must stumble slowly and painfully to the designated spot.
The bar is fixed to a tall, slender tree as her back rubs against the coarse bark; feet are lifted and bound against the upright.
Slowly, she resigns herself to fate . . . . sinking ever lower, body worn down with twists and turns performed in many useless attempts to alleviate the agony she must endure, condemned to hang and suffer, just as she saw the other woman do, until her turn to writhe likewise arrived.
She was crucified.
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