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The Cross

Starring: Elisabeth O'Day, 169/60/20
Eric Raymond Conner, 182/96/35

Elisabeth lived in Harrisvill, Arizona. Every year, the voluntary theatre group would arrange a charity play for the city. She loved the plays, and she had gone to see them every year since she was three. Since she moved away from home, the plays had been a chariest excuse for a family get together.
An evening, just a week before the play, Eric, one of the actors, called her. He explained the Lisa's son David had the flue, so Lisa couldn't come to the rehearsal. Lisa's role was not difficult. Did Elisabeth want to stand in for her?
Yes, of cause she would. She was thrilled to contribute to the play, and she'd love a little sneak preview. She had to be at the outdoor scene at 10 PM. She could hardly wait.

When she arrived at the scene, she was very nervous. Eric had invited a small audience to witness the preview. He explained that Elisabeth didn't have to do much. She should just act scared, and follow the other actors orders. It wouldn't be hard.
Elisabeth loved the costume. Old fashioned, and very pretty. She was supposed to be a witch who was caught and questioned by the inquisition. Before she was tortured, Lord Falcion, the hero, would ride in and rescue her.

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When it was her turn, two extras grabbed her wrists and dragged her onto the scene. A big wooden cross was laid out on the floor, and they pushed her down on it.
"No, please no, I'm innocent", she whined, and looked like she was going to cry. The extras smiled at her.
"I bet you are Beth", the guy on her right grinned. "But that's not going to help you. Then he took a hammer and a nail from his leather bag, and pressed the nail against the palm of her hand.
"Hi, you are not going to put it through my hand, are you?", she whispered to the extra. Surely he would put it between her fingers. But she would act like it really hurt.
He didn't answer her. He just raised the hammer and smiled.
"Hi", she screamed, as he brought down the hammer, and drew the nail into her hand, and the wood beneath it.

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"Oh god, that hurt", she yelled. What the fuck were they doing? This was not funny. She felt the tip of another nail press against the palm of her left hand. She tried to pull her band back, but someone held her wrist. She looked up at the other extra, just in time to see him raise his hammer.
"Stop it!", she screamed. Then he brought the hammer down, and fastened her left hand to the cross. What was going on? Was this just a mistake, or did they really mean to hurt her?
"Damn, those are real nails! You put them through my hands! Get them out! It hurts!", she screamed. Her hands hurt like hell, and her heart raced. Something was totally wrong here.
"Yes, it does hurt, doesn't it?", Eric laughed. He was standing by a bowl of burning coal, heating a rod of iron.

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"Get them out. Get them out, damn it!", she screamed as she felt the cross move. The two extras pulled it up.
"What is going on here? Please tell me!", she yelled and looked around at Eric, the extras and the audience. The audience were all men from the city. There was six of them. They just sat there, staring at her, some of them smiling.
"Help me, please, they are hurting me!", she screamed. There was no reaction from the audience.
"Hi, this is not a play, they are really hurting me!" Didn't they see? Didn't they see the blood gushing from her hands? But they didn't move. She just heard more laughter.
"Help me! Get me down. Please someone help me! This is not an act!", she kept on screaming. She could feel a cold knot of fear gather in her stomach. This was all wrong.

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"Be quiet, Beth", Eric said. "Soon this rod will be ready for you" He shuffled the coals a bit, then he pushed the rod into the center of the heat.
He looked up at Elisabeth. She looked so pretty standing there against the cross, in her fine costume. The look of fear and pain on her beautiful young face made him laugh.
"Oh, Eric. You can't do this to me!", she whined. "Look at all the witnesses! Someone help me, damn it! This is not an act!"
"They know, Beth", Eric explained. Revealing the truth to Elisabeth would be half the fun. "They have come here to see me torture you. For real"
"Noooooooo!", she screamed, "You can't do this!"
"Well, we are doing it", Eric grinned.

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This had had to be a nightmare! It just couldn't be true. They couldn't torture her. She hated pain.
"Please, someone help me!", she screamed, and looked out at the audience. They didn't move "Anyone!?", she added, her voice trembling. She looked hard at the spectators, trying to recognize them. One of them was Thomas, her English teacher from high-school.
"Thomas", she cried. "Thomas, please help me!" He smiled up at her, while he massaged the crotch of his pants. Oh god no! He was getting off on this. He wouldn't help her.
She recognized another face. Brian, her ex-boyfriend.
"Brian! Don't let them do this to me. Please", she begged.
"I think not, Elisabeth. After all, this was all my idea", he said and laughed. "And I'm surely going to enjoy it"

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"Now we are ready, Beth", Eric said, and pulled the iron rod out of the coals. The tip glowed with a burning yellow light. The panic in Elisabeth's eyes were exquisite, as her eyes fixed on the rod. He moved it towards her. Her eyes stuck to it, like she was mesmerized.
"When we prepared this little play, I began to wonder. What would happen if Lord Falcion didn't show up? What would the poor girl do if I began to torture her? She would just hang there, helpless.", Eric explained, and lifted the iron rod up in front of Elisabeth's face. "Would she scream much? I bet she would. So young and pretty and helpless. And me filling the last moments of her life with unbearable pain. Her screams. Her panic. It all seemed very erotic to me. Fortunately, these good men agreed with me"

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She stared at the glowing tip of the rod, as it slowly came closer to her face. She was frozen almost solid. Eric brought the glow up between her eyes. She could feel the searing heat of the iron, even though it was several inches from her face. It jerked her out of her silence.
"No! Please, Eric! You know me. You know my family! Don't do do it, don't do it please! Stop!"
"Poor girl", Eric grinned. "Listen to the helpless young witch scream as she faces her final torment"
"Eric, damn it! Stop. You can't do this to me!", she screamed as she saw the iron moving toward her left eye.
"Innocent or guilty? The iron doesn't care", Eric laughed. She felt the iron approach her. She pulled her head back, but it slammed against the hard wood of the cross. She was helpless!

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She felt the iron touch her left eyelid. The pain hit her like a hammer. She felt her skin burn and stick to the iron, tearing, as the rod was pushed deeper, burning into the apple of her eye. The iron hissed, as the glowing tip submerged in her blood and the juice of her eyeball. The pain mixed with her fear and the rush of adrenaline, filling her with panic.
"Stop! You are killing me!", she screamed. Blood flowed down her cheek.
"Why? Why are you doing this you bastards!", she screamed, giving air to her anger and frustration. Then another wave of pain struck her, as the iron pressed against her right eye. She would be blind. If she survived this, she would never see again!
And what did these men see when they looked at her? A human being, suffering? Or a whore who deserved to die? She couldn't take it. She just didn't deserve this.

"The poor girl hangs at the cross, awaiting her fate", she heard Eric say, "What do you think, gentlemen? Innocent or guilty?"
She could hear the men laughing through the wall of pain which surrounded her. Everything was pain and darkness, and their hideous laughter. She was just a  girl, who wanted to help them with their play. And now she was blind. And dying.
"Guilty", she heard them yell, as with one voice.
"Then watch her die!", Eric yelled. She could feel him pull up her dress. The men in the audience laughed, as Eric exposed her to them. God, this was humiliating. Please be quick, she begged. Please just kill me.
"She will die by Lord Falcion's sword", Eric laughed. She felt cold steel touch her labias. The tip slid up her pussy. It was so cold. Then is stopped.
"Gentlemen! This is not an act, this is the real thing. You'll see a young woman die now. I give you Elisabeth O'Day, 20 years old", Eric grinned. Then she felt the steel move inside her, tearing through her uterus. She begged to god, but it just kept on moving, spearing her like a full roast pig. It felt so cold, and so painful inside her. She could feel her hot blood flow down her legs, soaking her dress, and splashing onto the wooden floor of the stage. The cold filled her, spread to every limp, washing away the hot pain from the iron rod. She could hear the men laughing as she was slowly bleeding to death.
"Help me! Please! Please! Help me you monsters!", she screamed.
"And thus she curses us with her dying breath, proving her guilt beyond doubt", she heard Eric laugh, as he pulled the sword home. "The good men of the inquisition rejoice, for the Lord has been served!"
She felt her body pull tight around the blade. It filled her. The coldness of the steel filled her body. The laughter of the men drowned in a sea of pain. Then there was silence.

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