[fumetto] Outlander timetraveller Claire Fraser in the hands of King Louis XV

chapter 13

The heavy iron chains rattled softly as Claire Fraser lay slumped on the cold stone floor of her cell, her body aching from the previous day’s torments. Her strength was nearly depleted, leaving her vulnerable and trembling in the dim, flickering torchlight that cast long, dancing shadows against the damp walls.

The two torturer loomed over her . They didn't immediately attack; instead, they circled her like sharks tasting blood. They looked down at her with cruel amusement, their heavy boots splashing in the shallow puddle of water that had collected in the corner of the dungeon.

Claire, desperate to avoid further agony and exhausted by her struggle, closed her eyes and nodded reluctantly. She didn't have the strength to argue.

Before she could move, however, the two executioners began to toy with her. One man knelt beside her, his rough hand sliding between her legs, exploring her most intimate places while she shivered involuntarily. He rubbed her softly at first, then with a bit more pressure, enjoying the helpless sensation of her trembling beneath his touch. The other pressed his lips to her neck and ear, kissing her slowly, their breath hot against her skin, and whispered words of mockery into her ear. They laughed softly as they watched her struggle, enjoying the power they held over her vulnerable form.

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The teasing continued for several long minutes, designed to humiliate her further. One of them ran a calloused finger down her inner thigh, while the other traced the line of her jaw with a thumb, forcing her to look at them.

"Look at her," one of the men sneered, kicking her shoulder lightly. "She’s barely holding on, isn't she? We could be much harder on her, you know. We could start with the rack again. But maybe a little... service... could soften our hands. Perhaps if she pleased us well enough, we might spare the worst of the lash tonight."

The other man nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "It’s a simple bargain, isn't it, Mistress Claire? Suck us off, and we might be gentle. Terrify her, and she might not feel the first blow."

Claire, desperate to avoid further agony and exhausted by her struggle, closed her eyes and nodded reluctantly. She didn't have the strength to argue. Slowly, painfully, she dragged herself up to her knees. Her muscles screamed in protest as she knelt before the men, the cold stone biting into her skin. Without another word, she leaned forward and took the first man’s erection into her mouth.

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The taste was bitter and the act was humiliating, but she pressed on, her movements slow and forced, driven solely by the fear of the whip.

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They watched her with amusement. "Not bad, but not enough," the one whose manhood she served mocked, running a hand through her hair and pulling it slightly.

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"A little more effort might make the whipping bearable. Perhaps a little harder next time, eh? We wouldn't want to spoil her too early, after all."

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Just as Claire faltered, the heavy wooden door to the dungeon creaked open. Monsignor Foret stepped into the cell. He wore the dark, heavy robes of the King's personal executioner, his face impassive and colder than the stone walls surrounding them. He ignored the scene in front of him, his gaze fixed solely on the trembling woman.

"The King has spoken," he announced, his voice echoing off the stone. He held up a scroll, his tone grave and authoritative.

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He stepped closer to Claire, reading the words aloud for all to hear: "In light of the grave offense of her direct assault upon His Majesty, Mrs. Claire Fraser shall be treated with the same rigor as any male attacker who dares strike the crown. She will be led naked to the Place de Grève. There, she shall be whipped until her back is bare, and then branded with hot irons. Finally, her breasts will be torn from her chest, and her heart will be cut out, to serve as a grim warning to all who would plot against the king."

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Claire froze, the world around her suddenly turning gray. Her eyes widened in pure horror at the brutality of the sentence. The darkness took her before she could make a sound, and with a soft thud, she collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

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Chapter 14
The heavy wooden wheels of the carriage groaned with a rhythmic, agonizing thud as they rattled over the uneven cobblestones of Paris, carrying Claire Fraser toward the Place de Grève.

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The air was thick with the stench of unwashed bodies, the biting chill of the autumn wind, and the metallic tang of impending violence. As the cart lurched to a halt at the foot of the scaffold, the mob surged forward like a predatory wave, a chaotic sea of angry faces screaming for blood. They spat directly onto her pale, trembling skin, their spittle mingling with the light rain that had begun to fall. Rotten apples, bruised pears, and vegetables flew through the air, splattering violently against her face and dress, turning her pristine silk into a patchwork of mud and gore. Panic seized Claire's heart; she thrashed desperately against the soldiers restraining her, screaming for them to let her run, but they held her fast, their grip iron-hard, dragging her toward her doom.

On the raised platform, the Executioner waited, flanked by the High Executioner of the King, a man clad in heavy velvet robes that seemed to swallow the flickering torchlight. As the cart doors were thrown open, the Executioner descended, his heavy boots thudding menacingly against the wood. With a rough, tearing motion, he ripped the final remnants of her clothing from her body, exposing her shivering frame to the freezing wind.

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Amidst the jeers and applause, he dragged her up the stairs to the platform.

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He chained her wrists and ankles to the heavy wooden X-frame, securing her spread-eagle, her vulnerability laid bare for the entire city to see. Claire thrashed, her mind fracturing under the weight of terror. "No! I am not from this time! I do not belong here!" she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. The crowd erupted into laughter as one woman shouted, "Now she's not just a witch but crazy, too!" Another voice chimed in, "Wait until the executioner is done with you; you'll really be crazy, and then dead!" The mocking laughter swirled around her like a physical weight, crushing her spirit.

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The High Executioner, his voice booming to silence the murmur, stepped forward to read the sentence. "For this treachery, she shall suffer the same fate as a male traitor," he proclaimed, his tone dripping with regal authority. "Public branding. The ripping and searing of her nipples. The removal of her heart. And finally, quartering, with her remains displayed at the gates." He then nodded coldly to the Executioner.

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BDSM GAME WITH AI – who can recognise the scene?
who can recognise the scene and tell me the author and title; as a reward, you’ll receive 5 AI-generated images of your choice https://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threa...o-can-recognise-the-scene.13205/#post-1075404
 
Last edited:
The heavy wooden wheels of the carriage groaned with a rhythmic, agonizing thud as they rattled over the uneven cobblestones of Paris, carrying Claire Fraser toward the Place de Grève.

View attachment 3036275

The air was thick with the stench of unwashed bodies, the biting chill of the autumn wind, and the metallic tang of impending violence. As the cart lurched to a halt at the foot of the scaffold, the mob surged forward like a predatory wave, a chaotic sea of angry faces screaming for blood. They spat directly onto her pale, trembling skin, their spittle mingling with the light rain that had begun to fall. Rotten apples, bruised pears, and vegetables flew through the air, splattering violently against her face and dress, turning her pristine silk into a patchwork of mud and gore. Panic seized Claire's heart; she thrashed desperately against the soldiers restraining her, screaming for them to let her run, but they held her fast, their grip iron-hard, dragging her toward her doom.

On the raised platform, the Executioner waited, flanked by the High Executioner of the King, a man clad in heavy velvet robes that seemed to swallow the flickering torchlight. As the cart doors were thrown open, the Executioner descended, his heavy boots thudding menacingly against the wood. With a rough, tearing motion, he ripped the final remnants of her clothing from her body, exposing her shivering frame to the freezing wind.

View attachment 3036276

Amidst the jeers and applause, he dragged her up the stairs to the platform.

View attachment 3036282

He chained her wrists and ankles to the heavy wooden X-frame, securing her spread-eagle, her vulnerability laid bare for the entire city to see. Claire thrashed, her mind fracturing under the weight of terror. "No! I am not from this time! I do not belong here!" she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. The crowd erupted into laughter as one woman shouted, "Now she's not just a witch but crazy, too!" Another voice chimed in, "Wait until the executioner is done with you; you'll really be crazy, and then dead!" The mocking laughter swirled around her like a physical weight, crushing her spirit.

View attachment 3036283

The High Executioner, his voice booming to silence the murmur, stepped forward to read the sentence. "For this treachery, she shall suffer the same fate as a male traitor," he proclaimed, his tone dripping with regal authority. "Public branding. The ripping and searing of her nipples. The removal of her heart. And finally, quartering, with her remains displayed at the gates." He then nodded coldly to the Executioner.

View attachment 3036284

View attachment 3036303

BDSM GAME WITH AI – who can recognise the scene?
who can recognise the scene and tell me the author and title; as a reward, you’ll receive 5 AI-generated images of your choice https://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threa...o-can-recognise-the-scene.13205/#post-1075404
chapter 14 :unsure:
 
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