Medieval Punishment

The judge announced to the assembling crowd that she would be placed upon the wooden horse, and that bags with stones would be tied to her legs. Each bag would contain 21 pounds of stone, 2 grothels in the old units used by the law. She would then have to remain on the wooden horse until the sun had set and risen twice.

Two strong men lifted her up, and placed her on the horse. The top edge was perhaps half an inch wide, and polished smooth. She could feel it press into the flesh between her legs. For a short while she was almost disappointed that it wasn't sharper, as that would have made the experience more intense. But then they attached the bags to her legs, and the pressure between her legs turned to pain. She realized that even this horse would be hard to ride for two days, anything sharper would have crippled her for life.

During the first hours, the mild pain between her legs turned into a stronger pain, then an excruciating pain. She tried to shift her weight around, but the bags of stone would not let her. As the sun was setting, she cried out in pain.

It was a long and restless night. She tried to lie down with her belly on the horse, but that placed the pressure on her clit, and soon became unbearable. She tried to lie backwards, but the weights on her legs make that completely impossible. Occasionally she would cry out in pain. Nobody within earshot of the city square got much sleep that night.

The following day was not better. She was offered water, which she eagerly drank; and food which she forced down to maintain her strength. So soon she needed to pee. She had to do it sitting on the horse, and the pee ran down her legs. Somehow, the wetness made the pain even worse.

As the day progressed, she drifted in and out of consciousness, and afterwards she could not remember much from the most painful day in her life. Nor did she remember how she made it through the second night.

As soon as the sun had risen again, she was taken down from the horse, and placed on a chair on the stage. There she was left while the city woke up. An hour later, she had recovered sufficiently to care when a large man came with tools and chains. He took out a large iron ring made of two halves. A heavy chain was attached to it. The iron ring was placed around her neck. It was big and heavy, and fitted very loosely around her neck when it was closed. Then a power cable was connected to some machinery, and the man stood behind her doing something she could not see. Suddenly, there was a loud bang, then one more. The iron ring had been rivetted shut. Now the ring could no longer be opened without power tools.

She had to walk across the bridge to the square in front of the Temple, carrying the heavy chain in her arms. Every step was painful with the bruises between her legs. Finally, she was at the temple wall. The end of the chain was welded onto a metal plate in the wall. She was now officially a prisoner of the Temple. The guards left her alone with the gathering crowd.

For a while, people were content to watch her, no-one wanting to be the first to rape her. But after a while a group of young men had worked themselves up, and one of them went to her. She screamed in pain as he fucked her.

Later, she did not know how many men had taken her during that first day, she had lost count sometime after twenty. The bruises from the wooeden horse made any kind of sex pure torture. In the weeks that followed, she had slowly healed, and soon interest from the men reduced somewhat. Still, it was a calm day if the was only taken by a dozen men.

...

"There is no way you are going to escape now, Julie," the young woman said with glee.

"We'll see." Julie smiled as she moved the bishop. "Check!"

"Nice try." The woman took the bishop with her rook.

"But I'll just take back with my knight, and then ... oh! I see. Mate in two." Julie smiled. "You win again. What is the score now? 16 - 9?"

The young woman nodded, picked up her chess board and left, smiling at her friend Julie. Julie sat with her back against the temple wall. She was a about to pick up her book, when a man passed by.

"Hi Julie!"

"Hi Tamal! Will you come to me tonight?"

"No, not tonight; perhaps tomorrow night. My wife is away, but she will be back tomorrow. You know how much she enjoys watching me fuck you."

"Yeah, I have noticed!" Julie waved as he left.

...

Two men were walking down the streets of Buram, one of them holding a camera, filming the other.

"For more than a month, we have been trying to find out what happened to Julie Eastmann, who disappeared almost ten years ago. As a last, desperate attempt we came here to Buram, following a rumor about a western woman kept prisoner under appalling conditions. Yesterday, we had a major breakthrough in our investigation, when it was confirmed officially that such a woman exists, that it is indeed Julie, and that she is being held in the Temple Quarter, a part of town which is normally off-limits for tourists. Even more surprising, this morning we got an official permission to enter the Temple Quarter."

He waved a paper at the cameraman. Then a policeman saw them, and approached. He studied the paper and the passports of both men very carefully, before reluctantly letting both of them through.

"We are now in the Temple Quarter, and around that corner we should find the temple where Julie is said to be held prisoner, naked and exposed to both the elements and the male population. It is with some trepidation that we turn this last corner in our search."

They walked around the corner, and entered a large square. They both saw the naked woman chained to the temple. A man was busy taking her from behind. The cameraman began moving forward, but the journalist stopped him.

"We cannot save her if we start by causing a scene. She has spent 10 years like that, one more guy will not make a difference."

They saw him come, then he pulled up his trousers. To their surprise, they both sat down, the man pulled out a deck of cards and delt. Slightly confused, the two men approached her. Julie looked up from the card game when she saw them approach.

"Mrs. Julie Eastmann, I presume."

"That's me. What can I do for you?"

"I am Peter Barnham from the BBC program 'Vanished, Presumed Dead'. First, let me assure you that as soon as we have finished talking I will go back to Delhi and talk with the American embassy there. They will certainly put pressure on the Rhotan government, and if Amnesty International enters your case it should be possible to get you released soon..."

To his surprise, Julie laughed. "If I wanted to be released, it would be easier just to sign the pardon request."

"The pardon request?"

"Yes. I think the government considers me as some kind of embarrassment. But the King cannot pardon me unless I ask for it, the law is pretty clear. So two or three times every year they come with a formal request for pardon, and ask me to sign it. So far I have refused."

"But why? You want to stay here? This cannot possibly be a good life!"

She laughed. "A good life? Certainly not. I am tied naked to a temple. Five to ten guys come and fuck me every day, most of them are nice, but not all of them. I have to pee and shit in public. And in the monsoon season, it is downright miserable. But it IS as life. Back home, before I came here, I was dead inside. I never felt anything, no happiness, no sadness, no emotions of any kind. Here I feel alive. Often I am miserable, sometimes I am moderately happy. But I live. I cannot risk going back and die inside again. So no, I do not want to leave."

The journalist looked at her, stunned. This was unexpected. After standing there for a while, Julie spoke again, "I think your cameraman is trying to get your attention. Perhaps just standing here is not very good TV."

The journalist came to his senses, and placed himself next to Julie. "Here ends the strangest search in the history of this program. We found Julie Eastmann alive but held prisoner. Amazingly, she does not want to leave. While I cannot say I understand her motivation, it is my duty to respect it, and leave her here. This is Peter Barnham of the BBC signing out."

The cameraman switched off the camera, and they both stood there looking at Julie. She smiled at them. "From the BBC you say. Are you both English?"

They nodded. She looked at them again, and smiled her most charming smile.

"I have never fucked an Englishman."