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Lt. Lance Shafer’s strong, young body twitches on the cold, concrete floor as he gradually regains consciousness. He can feel his ankles and wrists being attached to something, then the sensation of being lifted into the air. “Please, no more,” he begs, standing spread-eagled. “Are you going to talk, lieutenant,” the man asks, pro-forma, not really caring it he talks or not. Although Lance is exhausted from his hours on the cross, he recalls the horrible power of the single-tail whip as Jared dangles it against his body in preparation. Still, it’s a shock when the braided leather cuts into his stretched flesh. “Please….” he mutters, but no mercy is shown; he is lifted up onto his toes and whipped even harder. Next week: Jared is crucified.
