I was chosen because I am the strongest with the quickest wrist action to give the whip an extra snap at the end. They use me on the prisoners who have a muscular stature or high ranking enemies that need to be broken down quickly. I have never failed to answer the call. That is why I live in opulent quarters like a senator with slaves at my beck and call.
Imagine my surprise when I walked out to the whipping post to find them preparing a thin frail looking man for the post. You could see the connection of his ribs to his backbone as his arms were stretched around the pole and tied.
“There must be some mix up,” I whispered to my captain. “Was I sent for in error?”
“Not at all,” I was told. “Get ready unless you want to join him.”
I picked out a whip from my arsenal and made a few practice swings. My wrist was grabbed on the down stroke of my third practice swing and a different whip was thrust into my hand. One I had never seen nor used before. It was a whip made with broken glass and at the end was a metal ball with two hooks. I looked at my captain, but said nothing when I saw the expression on his face.
I approached the prisoner, raised the whip and swung with all my might. It crashed down on the man’s back with a loud crack, breaking the skin and tearing into the flesh causing pieces and blood to fly in all directions. The man remained quiet.
Again and again I lashed out at the man’s back goaded on by the others. Sweat poured down my face as I mustered all my strength for the next assault. Still the man stayed silent.
The flesh was gone by the time my captain held up his hand. I was covered in blood and tissue from the man lying against the post. I had given it my all and yet he never yelled out once during the flogging which I found vey peculiar.
I watched the others untie the man from the post, pick him up and drag him back to the prison area. I looked into the man’s eyes as he passed me. I saw kindness and peace ... and love. I was so flabbergasted that I grabbed hold of a shard of glass from the whip as I was winding it up.
“Ow!” I yelled out as I looked at the gash in my calloused palm.
“Good work” the captain came over to me. “Go and clean yourself up.”
As the captain turned and started to walk away I asked. “Sir, what did this man do to deserve such a harsh sentence?”
He replied, “He was the King of the Jews.”
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