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She’d offended them, no doubt about it, which was why she was kept alone in the small room at rear of the building, out of sight, out of mind . . . . and out of circulation, totally incommunicado. Her fate, she had been decided; punishment would be exacted the following day. It was just as well, she thought, then she could get back to her normal run of life she thought . . . Escape was impossible, with a constantly changing and moving guard. She was kept naked in confinement; just as well the weather was warm. Time was spent wondering how the hell she came to be in this predicament, how she would get out of it and, in the meantime, what were these bozos planning to do with her. As darkness fell, she found out, not by any informed guesswork or analysis, but by being told and shown the plans; she didn’t like them one iota. Nobody had abused her whilst a prisoner, she was given food, water and protection. These people were not a bunch of self-indulgent, out-of-control ne’er-do-wells. Oh no, they were much worse. She was given a sheet of white cotton material with which to wrap herself for the outside excursion and two other pieces were put in the room, one wide piece of the same material and a longer, narrow scrap. They were to make herself a loin-cloth, or some such covering for around hips, for going to the main event. Experimenting with the big piece gave the appearance of wearing a ball-gown. How silly; she was set for a walk in the woods! The excursion was a relatively short walk, into woodland and light scrub country; attractive in its way, but not particularly pretty. The ground beneath her bare feet was soft and sandy, easy to walk on, not rough or injurious. In a way she enjoyed the break, the fresh air and exercise, even though hands were tied at back. Soon they were in an area where clearings predominated and she was directed to go into one, alone. It was tranquil, peaceful and deserted, empty of anything, except the large wooden cross standing at the end of it . . . Ropes dangled from the horizontal arms and yes, there was a heap of ropes on the ground near to it as well. She was encouraged to approach, to see, inspect, appreciate - and understand. Yes, all questions would be answered on returning to her escorts. She knew enough history to recognise a cross, what it meant, what it could do and what it portended for her. Walking slowly toward it, apprehensive at first, although the inert frame could do no harm as it stood, and seemed unlikely to fall on her without warning, she went close, very close, right up to it, studying the chafe marks on the ends of the arms and similar abrasions at the base of the vertical. Stains were visible, many stains, of those who’d already suffered torture and indignity, perhaps death, on the thing. Obviously another contribution was about to be made - hers. No holes, she noticed, so whoever rode this thing to damnation was not nailed to it, but tied. Soon it would be her turn; nude, sweaty, dirty, degraded and exposed; she shuddered violently and pissed herself. She guessed how it would be raised and lowered, lifted out of its socket and replaced into the hole by sliding the base in, manhandled crudely but effectively into the upright. Oh hell, she thought, now I know. These sadistic bastards were going to crucify her, stark naked probably, in broad daylight. Hells bells! She studied the glade, its seclusion, the natural sound-proofing of trees and bushes. Odd, she thought, as to why there were what appeared to be hidden posts with cameras mounted on them, video cameras and brackets that might take remotely-controlled still cameras, those with large capacity memory cards most probably . . . . she’d be porno entertainment, long after the event itself. The whole prospect was overwhelming and she collapsed to the ground. Strolling back to the built area, she asked a few questions. It was getting dark rapidly so the walk back was brisk. The sheet used as a dress would be lost and just before dawn she’d walk back to the grove in semi-darkness, wearing the extemporised covering over lower body, modestly, lest anyone be offended. Representations about being bare-chested were ignored; nobody cared; she did, a lot, but it mattered not. At the grove, she would lay down to introduce herself to the cross and embrace it, then take the huge, heavy, demounted device on her back, walk it, drag it, whatever, some distance to its original location, where she would strip off, lie on the frame, naked by this time, before being roped to it securely. Then it would be raised for her to ‘suffer the chastisement that it offered her’, exposed naked to all and sundry, her delectable body on display for casual erotic pleasure. About an hour before sunrise, she was woken and conducted to the start of her journey into hell. The device was loaded onto her back and shoulders and she was compelled to stagger under the burden many hundreds of yards to the assigned location. On arrival, the cross was laid on the ground, aligned to the post hole. Then she was made to remove the skimpy groin covering. Walking along the main spar, she untied knots holding her loin-cloth in place, letting it fall away. A tidy person, she folded and placed it alongside the frame. No words spoken but gestures indicated she should lay on the beams, spread arms out wide and thus assent to her torture. After a small delay, she did so, as the first glimmer of a new day broke the horizon. She was surprised when several older women came to wind the ropes around arms and legs, binding them tightly to the scaffold with little or no freedom of movement. Task completed, she was suitably prepared for the next stage, lifting to the vertical. Ropes at the ends of the side-beams were used, with individuals guiding as well, to move the post through ninety degrees and drop it into its hole. The sudden jolt as it fell the several inches wrenched shoulder muscles violently, erratic swaying during the lifting process instilling terror into her, lest the thing overturn, fall face down and she be crushed by its weight. Now up high, surveying the scene as morning light flooded the world; she adjusted to circumstance and made such movements as were possible. Adjustment was limited and what might be made was insufficient to relieve the intense pain in arms, back and legs, as they too cramped. Thus began what was no more than obscene writhing, shifting weight hither and yon in vain attempts to assuage the suffering, all to little or no effect. The dance of the newly-crucified had begun in earnest, to continue constantly hereafter, with inevitable diminishing vigour. Her body slumped, head sank onto chest, breathing became staccato, cries and shrieks rent the air, as they would for many an hour yet.
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