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Trust

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A woman’s voice, with a lilting French accent, whispers in my ear. “Oh, ma chere! I’ve missed you so much!”
Our heroine!

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:)

And that was a superb story, Marcella! :)
 
Epilogue . . .

Am I crazy? Well, yes and no. Some people would say I am. Barb, my new good friend, being one of them. OK, OK! Crazy is not a medical term and Barb would never use it to describe me.

But she is a psychologist, and knows “crazy” when she sees it.

Apparently, the intense desire I had to hang on a cross far beyond what any “normal” person would be willing to endure—even to the point of putting my life at risk—is a feature of my condition. Barb broached the subject with me when we were alone together on the day before she and the other girls left. It was early morning and I was soaking in the pool, naked (of course!), enjoying the pulsating water jets. They helped to ease some of the persistent deep achiness in my shoulder and leg muscles. I decided they could help with another ache I have—that being my sexual longing for Messaline. I had just positioned myself so one adjustable jet pulsated against my pussy from behind. My fingers, now fully flexible again, were massaging my clit from the front. Just as I was getting into it and waiting for Messaline to arrive, Barb suddenly appeared walking toward the pool. Whether she knew what I was up to or not wasn’t obvious on her face. I stopped, slightly embarrassed to be caught masturbating. She asked if she could join me. Of course, I said. She slipped out of her shorts, tee shirt and undies and settled in with me. We sat shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh for a bit before she began talking to me about what she called some clinical concerns about my crucifixion.

Barb very carefully explained that she, in her professional opinion, believes I’m delusional, bordering on psychotic. Yikes! Words like that scare me. Me, psychotic? I felt offended and pulled away, kind of angry at her. She allowed me my space and went on to say that I probably had a psychotic break while on the cross. Apparently, as she explains it, the intensity of the very realistic crucifixion experience I had triggered my psychotic break. Messaline was a mental creation of that psychotic episode.

My defenses were up and I asked her if she was psychotic too, and the other girls, as they all talked about their own rather personal crucifixion experiences the other day. Barb explained that crucifixion fantasies, even when acted out, are different from what I’m exhibiting. They never hanged nearly as long as I did. And never hallucinated a friend/lover/companion as I did, nor did they ever come as close to putting their lives at risk as I did. She even chastised Alex for making my experience perhaps too real. But, as everything turned out okay at the end, she didn’t believe I suffered any anything permanent—at least physically. My psychosis, while perhaps not very severe, is something that bears watching, maybe even treatment if I feel like I want to harm myself.

We went on to discuss how I might have conjured up the image of Messaline. I recalled my college romance with another woman for her. Melanie (her name) was a tall, slender, athletic blonde, quite physically different from the more voluptuous Messaline. But she did speak French to me when we made love, which she considered very sexy. I liked it too. It was pretty obvious to both Barb and me that Melanie was the basis for Messaline in my mind.

We didn’t have time to delve too deeply into my mind to understand all the reasons for my extreme crux attraction and willingness to endure lengthy crucifixion. That would take weeks. But I eventually set aside my emotional defenses and soon was sitting next to Barb again. Eventually I started crying again and Barb consoled me with hugs, kisses and even used her very talented fingers to relieve my obvious sexual tension. My orgasm was awesome, even by recent standards. Barb is a very talented lady indeed! The sex part, she admitted, would be very unprofessional in her line of work, but as we were friends and I was not officially her patient she felt could take a few liberties with professional ethics. I loved her for it and returned the favor.

As we held each other close in the pool Barb told me of a book she’s writing on the topic of female attraction to crucifixion role-playing. It’s a far bigger practice than many realize. She wants to do a whole chapter just on me!

As Barb said her goodbyes on the final day she slipped me her business card and whispered in my ear that she just gave me her private number and that I should call her anytime when I think I’m getting in too deep with my crucifixion practices. She also gave me her e-mail address.

I joked with her. “Barb, don’t worry, it’s not like I’m going to have myself nailed to a cross next time!”

She looked me in the eyes but didn’t laugh at my joke. “Just call me, Marcella, before you decide to do any more personal crucifixions, okay? I want to talk with you first. I want you to be safe!”

I thought a lot about what Barb and I talked about that morning in the pool. Maybe I do have a problem: I’m too reckless with my fantasies and have an exalted opinion of my capacity to endure pain. I have to admit I have wondered what it would feel like to be nailed to a cross. I know what being tied to a cross feels like. Perhaps I should consider taking the next step. But how? It is so incredibly dangerous and probably very dumb. Yet . . . I really need to know.

Perhaps I’ll talk it over with Messaline the next time she visits.
****************************************************************************************
This is it! Finally! The End!
 
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Epilogue . . .

Am I crazy? Well, yes and no.

As Barb said her goodbyes on the final day she slipped me her business card and whispered in my ear that she just gave me her private number and that I should call her anytime when I think I’m getting in too deep with my crucifixion practices. She also gave me her e-mail address.

I joked with her. “Barb, don’t worry, it’s not like I’m going to have myself nailed to a cross next time!”

She looked me in the eyes but didn’t laugh at my joke. “Just call me, Marcella, before you decide to do any more personal crucifixions, okay? I want to talk with you first. I want you to be safe!”

Perhaps I should consider taking the next step. But how? It is so incredibly dangerous and probably very dumb. Yet . . . I really need to know.

Perhaps I’ll talk it over with Messaline the next time she visits.
****************************************************************************************
This is it! Finally! The End!
...for now, perhaps.

The next step? ...don't ask me. How would I know?

tree 1.jpg

I am sure Messaline will guide talk to you. Just leave your emotions behind when she arrives...

owp 129.jpg

Tree thanks you for your story and wishes you well on your search forward!!!
 
Epilogue . . .

Am I crazy? Well, yes and no. Some people would say I am. Barb, my new good friend, being one of them. OK, OK! Crazy is not a medical term and Barb would never use it to describe me.

But she is a psychologist, and knows “crazy” when she sees it.

Apparently, the intense desire I had to hang on a cross far beyond what any “normal” person would be willing to endure—even to the point of putting my life at risk—is a feature of my condition. Barb broached the subject with me when we were alone together on the day before she and the other girls left. It was early morning and I was soaking in the pool, naked (of course!), enjoying the pulsating water jets. They helped to ease some of the persistent deep achiness in my shoulder and leg muscles. I decided they could help with another ache I have—that being my sexual longing for Messaline. I had just positioned myself so one adjustable jet pulsated against my pussy from behind. My fingers, now fully flexible again, were massaging my clit from the front. Just as I was getting into it and waiting for Messaline to arrive, Barb suddenly appeared walking toward the pool. Whether she knew what I was up to or not wasn’t obvious on her face. I stopped, slightly embarrassed to be caught masturbating. She asked if she could join me. Of course, I said. She slipped out of her shorts, tee shirt and undies and settled in with me. We sat shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh for a bit before she began talking to me about what she called some clinical concerns about my crucifixion.

Barb very carefully explained that she, in her professional opinion, believes I’m delusional, bordering on psychotic. Yikes! Words like that scare me. Me, psychotic? I felt offended and pulled away, kind of angry at her. She allowed me my space and went on to say that I probably had a psychotic break while on the cross. Apparently, as she explains it, the intensity of the very realistic crucifixion experience I had triggered my psychotic break. Messaline was a mental creation of that psychotic episode.

My defenses were up and I asked her if she was psychotic too, and the other girls, as they all talked about their own rather personal crucifixion experiences the other day. Barb explained that crucifixion fantasies, even when acted out, are different from what I’m exhibiting. They never hanged nearly as long as I did. And never hallucinated a friend/lover/companion as I did, nor did they ever come as close to putting their lives at risk as I did. She even chastised Alex for making my experience perhaps too real. But, as everything turned out okay at the end, she didn’t believe I suffered any anything permanent—at least physically. My psychosis, while perhaps not very severe, is something that bears watching, maybe even treatment if I feel like I want to harm myself.

We went on to discuss how I might have conjured up the image of Messaline. I recalled my college romance with another woman for her. Melanie (her name) was a tall, slender, athletic blonde, quite physically different from the more voluptuous Messaline. But she did speak French to me when we made love, which she considered very sexy. I liked it too. It was pretty obvious to both Barb and me that Melanie was the basis for Messaline in my mind.

We didn’t have time to delve too deeply into my mind to understand all the reasons for my extreme crux attraction and willingness to endure lengthy crucifixion. That would take weeks. But I eventually set aside my emotional defenses and soon was sitting next to Barb again. Eventually I started crying again and Barb consoled me with hugs, kisses and even used her very talented fingers to relieve my obvious sexual tension. My orgasm was awesome, even by recent standards. Barb is a very talented lady indeed! The sex part, she admitted, would be very unprofessional in her line of work, but as we were friends and I was not officially her patient she felt could take a few liberties with professional ethics. I loved her for it and returned the favor.

As we held each other close in the pool Barb told me of a book she’s writing on the topic of female attraction to crucifixion role-playing. It’s a far bigger practice than many realize. She wants to do a whole chapter just on me!

As Barb said her goodbyes on the final day she slipped me her business card and whispered in my ear that she just gave me her private number and that I should call her anytime when I think I’m getting in too deep with my crucifixion practices. She also gave me her e-mail address.

I joked with her. “Barb, don’t worry, it’s not like I’m going to have myself nailed to a cross next time!”

She looked me in the eyes but didn’t laugh at my joke. “Just call me, Marcella, before you decide to do any more personal crucifixions, okay? I want to talk with you first. I want you to be safe!”

I thought a lot about what Barb and I talked about that morning in the pool. Maybe I do have a problem: I’m too reckless with my fantasies and have an exalted opinion of my capacity to endure pain. I have to admit I have wondered what it would feel like to be nailed to a cross. I know what being tied to a cross feels like. Perhaps I should consider taking the next step. But how? It is so incredibly dangerous and probably very dumb. Yet . . . I really need to know.

Perhaps I’ll talk it over with Messaline the next time she visits.
****************************************************************************************
This is it! Finally! The End!

IMG_0225.JPG Well .. luckily for Marcella the doctor was in ...

IMG_0223.JPG We got naked comfortable and talked about her problem with extreme crux fascination and marathon hangs, as well as her infatuation with blond French hussies.

IMG_0224.JPG Then me closed our session with a little mutual masturbation admiration before discussing a time and place for her next "consultation".
 
View attachment 527852 Well .. luckily for Marcella the doctor was in ...

View attachment 527850 We got naked comfortable and talked about her problem with extreme crux fascination and marathon hangs, as well as her infatuation with blond French hussies.

View attachment 527851 Then me closed our session with a little mutual masurbation admiration before discussing a time and place for her next "consultation".

Tree looks into his 'tea leaves' and sees nothing good coming from this...

jurist prelude.jpg
 
I am sure Messaline will guide talk to you. Just leave your emotions behind when she arrives...

Plans Messa tree smoke jpeg.jpg Hum, are you sure Tree that I'll come back again ? According to Doctor Barbara Moore, I'm a "psycothic dream" !:D
Though, I stay the record woman of the crucifixion'duration , nailed by your professionalism to a cross and enduring the pain 36 hours ago !
plans messa's panic jpeg.jpg ... and what could say Marcella when she'll be tagged ?!:eek: I'll have to explain her what is a tag ...:D

... and that she'll do accept the scars for all her future life !
jjb59.jpg

845c62ff8ece843660c4322755a0c444.jpg I'm not sure that she's ready for that but, if , a day, you crucify her, Tree, you must do it to a Premium French Crucifixion Wood ! OK ?
 
... and what could say Marcella when she'll be tagged ?!:eek: I'll have to explain her what is a tag ...:D

... and that she'll do accept the scars for all her future life !


I'm not sure that she's ready for that but, if , a day, you crucify her, Tree, you must do it to a Premium French Crucifixion Wood ! OK ?

I promise only the best for the two of you!!!
 
If I may, I see this story as a metaphor for situations that many people face in life-the dilemma of what to do when someone you care about wants to do something self-destructive, or potentially self-destructive. It could be drugs, alcohol, gambling, or many other things (which can cause pain, humiliation, etc. just as much as crucifixion). Alex went a long way to let you do what you wanted, but couldn't let you die. Nor could the others.
 
If I may, I see this story as a metaphor for situations that many people face in life-the dilemma of what to do when someone you care about wants to do something self-destructive, or potentially self-destructive. It could be drugs, alcohol, gambling, or many other things (which can cause pain, humiliation, etc. just as much as crucifixion). Alex went a long way to let you do what you wanted, but couldn't let you die. Nor could the others.

Good analysis windar. My character is acting in a very destructive manner in her quest for a genuine crucifixion appearance.

I also see this as Marcella's descent into madness/mental illness. I wish I had ended the story with a few extra words which would have brought her full circle with her trust of another. Isn't it always the case that you think of something you really wished you written but didn't?

Here's how I wish I had ended my story:

I thought a lot about what Barb and I talked about that morning in the pool. Maybe I do have a problem: I’m too reckless with my fantasies and have an exalted opinion of my capacity to endure pain. I have to admit I have wondered what it would feel like to be nailed to a cross. I know what being tied to a cross feels like. Perhaps I should consider taking the next step. But how? It is so incredibly dangerous and probably very dumb. Yet . . . I really need to know.

Perhaps I’ll talk it over with Messaline the next time she visits. I really trust Messaline.

Those last four words are chilling. They show how Marcella has become detached from the real world and now places her trust in an imaginary friend who only echoes what she--Marcella--is thinking.

I wonder how Messaline would advise her?

I wish I had written those four words when I posted the epilogue. Would have been a much better ending.
 
I wonder how Messaline would advise her?

It depends if it's in fantasy or reality, Marcella : obviously, in reality, I say "do not that" ... In fantasy, "do it" !:D
It"s full of gratifications to see ourselves nailed to a cross and , of course, we're always set for a nailed crucifixion, us the cruxgirls !:rolleyes:

 
It depends if it's in fantasy or reality, Marcella : obviously, in reality, I say "do not that" ... In fantasy, "do it" !:D
It"s full of gratifications to see ourselves nailed to a cross and , of course, we're always set for a nailed crucifixion, us the cruxgirls !:rolleyes:

No, WE CRUXGIRLS never turn down an opportunity. What would be the fun in that? :p:D
 
As we held each other close in the pool Barb told me of a book she’s writing on the topic of female attraction to crucifixion role-playing. It’s a far bigger practice than many realize. She wants to do a whole chapter just on me!

Um, Barb, is it possible to pre order this book?
Asking for a friend!

Those last four words are chilling. They show how Marcella has become detached from the real world and now places her trust in an imaginary friend who only echoes what she--Marcella--is thinking.

I wonder how Messaline would advise her?

I wish I had written those four words when I posted the epilogue. Would have been a much better ending.

I don't know Marcella. I think it works as it is, it's a little more subtle, leaves more to the imagination.
Great story, it explores something which is much closer and more real for us than historical fantasies and crime stories. How far would we be prepared to go, either as a subject or as a lover, to bring this fantasy to life?
 
Good analysis windar. My character is acting in a very destructive manner in her quest for a genuine crucifixion appearance.

I also see this as Marcella's descent into madness/mental illness. I wish I had ended the story with a few extra words which would have brought her full circle with her trust of another. Isn't it always the case that you think of something you really wished you written but didn't?

Here's how I wish I had ended my story:

I thought a lot about what Barb and I talked about that morning in the pool. Maybe I do have a problem: I’m too reckless with my fantasies and have an exalted opinion of my capacity to endure pain. I have to admit I have wondered what it would feel like to be nailed to a cross. I know what being tied to a cross feels like. Perhaps I should consider taking the next step. But how? It is so incredibly dangerous and probably very dumb. Yet . . . I really need to know.

Perhaps I’ll talk it over with Messaline the next time she visits. I really trust Messaline.

Those last four words are chilling. They show how Marcella has become detached from the real world and now places her trust in an imaginary friend who only echoes what she--Marcella--is thinking.

I wonder how Messaline would advise her?

I wish I had written those four words when I posted the epilogue. Would have been a much better ending.

When I reread my stories I tend more to be of the "Why did I say THAT?" rather than "Why didn't I say that?" school. I do see the attraction in closing the circle and re-stating the title theme, but the story is fine without it. I'm sure one of the mods can add it if you want. It's your story and you should have it the way you want.
I don't know Marcella. I think it works as it is, it's a little more subtle, leaves more to the imagination.
Great story, it explores something which is much closer and more real for us than historical fantasies and crime stories. How far would we be prepared to go, either as a subject or as a lover, to bring this fantasy to life?

Historical fantasies and crime stories can work at multiple levels and explore some deep moral issues. And if Alex had allowed Marcella to die or suffer permanent harm, it would have been a crime story. There was a case recently where a young woman was convicted of manslaughter for encouraging her boyfriend to kill himself through text messages https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-new...ing-boyfriend-s-suicide-text-messages-n773306 Whatever one thinks of the legal issues, I feel she acted morally reprehensibly.
 
The hours pass. The sun has moved across the sky. I continue to piss and get water. The spectators take turns in bringing it to me. Everyone but Messaline. (Where the hell is she?) Some of them taunt me and fuck with me as they do, especially the old guy named Tree. He seems to take special pleasure in watching me suffer. He really makes me stretch myself out to reach the cup! What an asshole! The women are more business-like about it. Just unemotionally bringing the cup too my lips. Like Messaline, Barb has remained naked most of the time I’ve seen her around my cross. I have to admit, she’s got a great body. The other women are attractive too, but have covered up when not in the swimming pool. They spend time strolling around the property, talking and laughing, sometimes going inside for a while. (Are they with Alex? Fucking bitches better not be!) The women individually or together stand by my cross from time to time watching me as I hang. How the hell can I be sustaining any interest after all these hours? And Rafi, my asshole of a brother? I haven’t seen him since this morning, soon after his arrival. Alex either. What the fuck? Why isn’t Alex, my loving husband, here? His absence makes me increasingly uneasy. The guys? Well, they just lounge around eating, drinking and listening to the ballgame. Sometimes they disappear for a while into the house or garage when they aren’t verbally abusing me. What’s going on?

There are only strangers around me. The only person I really miss right now is Messaline. She’s been absent too long. Why? Why?
Here is some turning point in the story. The estrangement from Marcella and the onlookers. Estrangement from the original purpose of the act too (to create intimate excitement between Alex and Marcella too). The excitement of Alex and the onlookers fades away. Meanwhile Marcella gets more and more absorbed by the excitement and arousal created by her fantasy about Messaline.
 
How far would we be prepared to go, either as a subject or as a lover, to bring this fantasy to life?
Fortunatelly that we've CF to do that ! We can go here as far as we have in our fantasies , without to risk anything ...
The only risk is that no executionner could be ready to nail us , but, in Second Life, we even can crucify ourselves ...:D


Meanwhile Marcella gets more and more absorbed by the excitement and arousal created by her fantasy about Messaline.

Hum, perhaps that Alex was not suffiscient for her deep lusts ? :p
 
Anywhere, I have read that actually someone has committed suicide by crucifying himself. I think it was murder, but if I would want to kill myself, this would be a preferred
method...
 
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