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Put to the cross, she stretches her lovely body in ever-increasing pain as she hangs on the simple frame.
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She was docile, this one. It had been a strange couple of weeks for Jo, The Organisation's exactrix mortis, so many young women to crucify there was a danger of compromising her day job, such was the volume of work arising.
Nina was in progress when Ruth called, insisting Natalia be handled that same day - immediately. Barely another week had passed and Claudia had been referred for special treatment - crucifixion.
In the circumstances, Jo called two members of her usual teams and took the subject in hand. The walk across the huge field had been without incident and, arrived at the execution site, the cruxee had shown no panic or other emotion. No, she’d dropped to her knees in front of the device and looked at it, in a vaguely reverential way. Still, a lot of her charges did that as well.
This one was no different as she went on to kiss the tall upright that supported the bar to which she’d be tied and from which she’d hang, for as long as it took. She climbed the bench and lay back against the wood, accepting her fate with dignified resignation; arms were tied, feet bound.
She was crucified.
Unusual this time was the victim’s height, the way she stood against the frame and stayed on her toes when dropped was a new approach. Perhaps, thought Jo, she wanted to end it all quickly.
Looking at the angle of her arms, that could be the only explanation.
Oh well, perhaps it was for the best; it was her choice.
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