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The Via Crucis of
Camille - Crux 1 - Page 25
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I ripped the last strand of clothing from Camille's
body and I was done. She was naked, hanging from her
cross. A wet dream come true.
I stepped back again to admire her, to admire the result
of our efforts, to check the camera and see how its lens
was seeing this moment.
Camille was not responding anymore, she was hanging
as if unconscious, lost in another realm to which I had
no access.
Seeing her like this made me wish she was not about to
dump me. This was a moment I didn't want to lose forever.
Her influence in my life was very strong and positive.
Not just because she was giving her flesh to
my concepts, but because she was daring me to confront my
darkest fantasies, to make them real, to embrace them and
stop fearing them.
I was jumping into a life style that perhaps
was soon to be truncated. |
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The soldier grabbed Leticia's
loin cloth and pulled it off her body, making her move forward
as he pulled. Another soldier took the hot iron and after
pushing her knees away from each other to expose her virtue,
he pressed the red hot tip against her labia.
She woke to the new pain and
to the invasion of her dignity. She saw herself naked, she
pulled her body up as far as she could and she let out a
loud scream of pain. She stood there, tense, her body pressing
the nails on her ankles, her body shaking, for a while,
until her energy was consumed by her effort and her body
fell back to hang again from her wrists.
Her breathing was heavier now
and she began her long road of agony to her final destination.
The slave woman saw her naked
mistress hanging from her cross, dying slowly.
The soldiers were done, now it
was a matter of time. Let it be a short time, she prayed
to her gods. |
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It was the time to visit Camille's body with
the camera. My services as her torturer were
no longer needed. I took the camera and trained it on
her feet, it was a good place to begin the visit of every
inch of her skin.
Her feet were not moving. It looked like they were just
hanging there in mid air. I was sorry I didn't nail her
feet as well, the one detail I did not get into at this
moment. No time to prepare. Besides, It was good enough
as it was.
I was reminded of the film Spartacus, when Kirk Douglas
hangs from his cross, and his feet are not attached, they
are just there, hanging.
Now my Camille was representing that scene for
me, but better.
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Leticia moved up and down slowly
in her futile struggle to find some release. Each painful
effort to raise herself was followed by the slump of her body,
pulling her arms, making the chains around her wrists cut
deeper into her skin. There
was no way for her to measure her pain, it was a constant
presence travelling through her body, making her jerk from
time to time.
Her lungs were fighting for the
bit of air that passed through, she was gasping, trying
to get as much air as possible, she was no longer screaming,
her breathing was a scream.
She shook her head at one point,
as she felt something rising up inside her.
The slave woman was watching
her mistress struggle in her pain. She knew part of her
suffering, she felt that she had died a number of times
in those days of waiting.
After she was thrown to the
water, she was given up for dead. She laid on the grass
for more than an hour as the soldiers try to think of what
to do. The decision was made to just hang her body back.
She was dragged back by her legs, face down. It was then
that she returned. |
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I focused the camera on the reflection in the mirror.
It was very good to have both views of Camille's body
at once. My finger was trembling with the emotion and
excitement. In all the times I had worked on
this scenario, I tried to bring to life a picture I had in
my head. This time was so far the best.
Camille was hanging from her wrists, naked and trembling
in pain. The mechanics of her crucifixion were complete.
I could not ask for anything more.
If this was the last time for us, it was certainly
a time to remember.
Time was passing and Camille was not moving much
anymore. I saw her body slide to the side as she
tried, one more time, to bring some relief to her nailed
hands.
I was full of questions for her now, I wanted
to know what she was feeling and how. Was she turned
on? |
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