hannibal's male crucifixion 3d picture and stories

[Laectus]

The renders here look fantastic! Not experienced at modeling yet, they are very impressive (replied after reading from the first few pages for now)

1 - shading : your textures and edits are outstanding - I’d love to see this in a full shader, bloom and anti-aliased/mipmap render (like UE 4 or 5 kind of detail)! Lighting is incredibly fun to play with, especially in erotic scenes!

2 - framing : IMO, you already got quite a knack for this. Some of the scenes in the story I feel could have been framed differently but regardless, the story is the focus, and the imagery is spot on either way!

3 - bits and bobs : am incredibly attracted to draping cloth - the governor’s clothes (and/or their lighting?) doesn’t do the governor’s imagery as much justice as I’d hoped - just imagining a hardy, fit man with his (perhaps imported silk) toga falling and folding around his spread legs as he strokes himself to the convicts’ screams…. …perhaps even giving some of the soldiers’ tunics some boner tenting too in the sedile scenes

Dynamic activity in the sand too may offer subtle cues of where people entered and exited, dust kick-up from the lions, perhaps lanterns set aside by the soldiers for when nightfall nears, maybe the used torches they had from the dungeons were set down here or there.

These are all just little positive bits I don’t get to see in many renders outside of hand drawn artwork, and would love to see in the modeling community!
Either way , tonight I’ve read a lot and you’ve (HB, is it?) made me hard after that, along with the commentary - thanky! <3 <3 <3

 

[hb21]

We are at the beginning of the afternoon and the sun strikes our naked unprotected bodies mercilessly and slowly tortures our bodies. The dirt when drying irritates our wounds and insects add even more to our suffering by cruelly pricking and stinging us into our most private places. I dream of a bath at home and to feel on my body the scraper passed by a servant followed by the caress of a sponge. How wonderful it would be! But I would never go home again and I would die dirty, my crucified body stinking as a pig. I’m starting to feel sorry for my fate.

Time passes slowly in a heat mist. There is no wind here and the stench of our naked and crucified bodies hangs heavy in the hot still air. My perspiration is now reduced to a minimum. I am dehydrated. My throat is parchment and raw because of my almost uninterrupted cries. I feel that my tongue is swollen and grated like sand as I pass it over my chapped lips. I need water. “Pity! To drink! ”

“He wants water, Publius! Get up and give it to the three! We don’t want them to die of thirst until they have suffered for a long time! ”

Publius looks for one of our loincloths and hooks it on a long stick. He soaks it in a bucket filled with water until it is saturated. He brings it to my mouth by holding the stick at arm’s length. I catch it with my lips and start squeezing it to absorb as much water as possible. It was hot but it moistened my dry throat. I ardently suck the loincloth, like a baby his mother’s nipples. I end up spitting out the textile emptied of its water.

I dare to demand more water from the soldier who in retaliation begins to whip my chest, stomach and genitals. For a very short time, I forget that I am nailed to a cross and I want to curl up to protect my body. The pain in my wrists and ankles reminds me that I am spread naked on the cross, my body completely vulnerable, at the mercy of those who have just crucified me, who can do to me what they want to me. I get about 20 lashes. It hurts but my exhaustion and pain are such that additional suffering does not make me react much. Pain becomes my only universe.

Gidon and Yonatan having seen that I was given water to drink are asking for water in turn.

The soldier who gave me water, did the same for Yonatan who greedily swallowed his water. Then he goes directly to the Gidon’s cross without stopping to saturate the loincloth with water. Everyone realizes that Gidon is the real criminal among us. He is the one who attacked the Roman detachments and murdered their brothers.

I see him take out his limb penis and piss in the loncloth. Then he lifts it to Gidon’s lips, but keeps it far enough for Gidon to have to reach his nailed body out from his cross to reach for it. Gidon shakes his head to say no, then drops his head against his sweat-drenched chest and starts crying softly like a little boy. This proud and strong young man is now broken. Torture and humiliation have overcame his arrogance.

 

[hb21]

I look at the rebel. His chest and belly are covered with sweaty hair, his massive shoulders tremble with pain. His pubes are bushy and in the center his cock kept erect by the rope shakes in all directions. His face twisted by suffering is framed by a short beard.

The muscles of his thighs and arms bend when he lifts up to inflate his chest and fill his lungs with air. I think he will be the last of the three of us to die. He will suffer the longest. This beautiful muscular body was a blessing for him until then; today it will be a curse.

Yonatan, on the other hand, seems to weaken rapidly. His thin lean body makes him more sensitive to exhaustion and he will not make a prolonged stay on the cross. He struggles more intensely than Gidon and I to be able to lift up and move his body.

Yonatan’s young and handsome face is now engraved with etching not only by pain but also by weariness. His neat beard is now covered with spit and saliva. His slightly hairy chest lifts up irregularly. I follow the drag of his dark brown hair to the bottom of his belly and his groin.

His penis is retracted and points just above his pubes that frames his genitals. His balls hang on the side of the sedile turned towards me. Yonatan rises painfully and inhals deeply before falling heavily on his sedile with a grin of pain. He seems exhausted and ready to capitulate. I am convinced that Yonatan will be the first to die.

What about me? The years of exercise and sport in the gym had strengthened my body. My arms and shoulders are well muscled but I remain quite light. I was the last to be crucified. Is it possible that I am the last to die? In addition, Hadrianus admitted that my flogging had been less severe than the others. It worries me. I would have liked my pain to stop as quickly as possible even at the cost of my life.

The crowd watching our movements up on our crosses decrease as the day progresses. As soon as my ankles were nailed to the stipe, and my crucifixion had been completed, people began to leave the crucifixion site. The exciting part of a crucifixion is its beginning, the actual crucifixion process. I can certify that time on the cross passes very slowly. The dance of the naked crucified becomes boring in the long run. Our movements decrease as fatigue and exhaustion overcome our bodies and our desire to fight the pain of the cross. In addition, the soldiers stopped playing with us and tormenting us.

The people present from the beginning are almost all parties with the notable exception of the merchant who had me crucified and Yonatan’s family. The men stand on the immediate outskirts of the place of crucifixion while women stand back on the road. Passers-by most often ignore us. Some, however, approach and observe us with an attentive eye reinforcing our shame and humiliation of being naked and showing off our penises. We are the main attraction on the hill quarry road outside of the city and some people enjoy the entertainment.

Gods, the sun is so hot. It burns my reddening skin. There is no way to protect yourself. I hope that the rain will wash our sore bodies of the dust, dirt and stench that have accumulated on our crucified flesh. But the sky remains blue and it seems to me that even the gods want to see me suffer in my crucifixion as much as possible.

 

[hb21]

There are a few street kids playing nearby on the roadside. When they are tired of their game, they accumulate an arsenal of stones and start throwing them at us. I beg them in vain to stop. Gathering his courage, one of the oldest boys approaches with a stick. He takes great pleasure in hitting my shins and then my stomach and finally he bolds himself until he hits my genitals.

He then passes over to Gidon and has fun hitting his always erected penis, snatching from him grunts of pain. Encouraged by the indifference of the soldiers and the cries of his comrades, he takes the stick and pushes it into Gidon’s anus making him scream. The soldiers finally intervene and hunt him away.

For a while, Yonatan has slowed down his breathing dance. He rises slowly and with difficulty. He rests his head on his shoulder most of the time. His eyes are glassy and empty, his face free of any expression. He remains silent.

Suddenly his leg begins to tremble. While the tremors get stronger, he begins to scream in obvious agony. He stands up on his leg as much as he can and begins to moan and growl with fury.

“Ah, a cramp! In my thigh... I can’t stop it... nails... how they hurt! ... it doesn’t stop... AUUUUGHH...

Oh no the other leg now... remove these damn nails... I can’t stand this horror any more... AAAUUUUGHHHH... come down... oh gods detach me from this cross... please stop it... I don’t want any more pain... AAAAUUUUUGGHHHHHH!!! ... Stop torturing me like that... AUUUUUUGGGHHHHH!!! ... Oh gods, I want to die... AUUUGHHHHHHHH!!! ... Finish me now! ...”

One of the guards gets up and goes to Yonatan’s cross. He redoubles his screams by punching him into the stomach and then grabbing his balls and crushing them on the sedile. Yonatan screams in pain. The soldier explains to him “It’s simple, stupid! It’s your punishment and you will continue to suffer! We’ll only get you down dead! You’re going to stay there until you’re dead! And now, close your mouth or I’ll be happy to castrate you! ”

The other soldiers laugh and the humiliated Yonatan starts crying and moaning softly again. I am horrified by what has just happened to him. When would my body start to get cramps? It’s only a matter of time. This would happen to me as for Yonatan.

 

[Clizio]

Only Reuven's sedile seems to be provided with the cornu, Is It for a special reason? Cornu could be considered both a help or a further punishment.

 

[hb21]

Only Reuven's sedile seems to be provided with the cornu, Is It for a special reason? Cornu could be considered both a help or a further punishment.

in the story, it's a "gift" from Longinus:
He then approaches me and as for Gidon and Yonathan before me, he pulls my head back to force me to look him in the eyes while he grabs my balls with the other hand and has fun kneading them enjoying my terrified squeaks “So thief, your penis is no longer as stiff as before: obviously being flogged does not have the same effect as watching. But don’t worry, I’ll give you a little gift later that will allow you to proudly show off your manhood unless someone comes to save you but I still don’t see anyone. You will now be nailed to the cross of death and your penis that you wanted to hide under a loincloth on full view to the crowd who have come to watch you being crucified.”

 

[hb21]

I am distracted by an agitation in the audience. A single woman is now approaching us. She is very young and looks like Yonatan. The other women beg her in vain to come back. Yonatan’s father orders her to go back to the other women. She ignores him and continues to approach. She is Yonatan’s sister and she will see her naked and crucified brother despite the laws of simple decency that would like her to stay away.

Yonatan’s head has fallen to his chest and his eyes are closed. The guards observe her but do nothing to stop her. Although foreigners are allowed to approach the crucified to torment them provided they do not shorten their suffering, family members are considered with suspicion. Not that the girl can release Yonatan from his cross, but she could hide a dagger that could prematurely shorten his suffering. The little lady walks to the foot of his cross. In a young voice, the young woman calls him “Yonatan! Brother! ”

Yonatan opens his eyes and moans: “Yoela, my dearest Yoela! I am so grateful to you for coming to support me! Oh by the gods, my sister, I’m naked and dirty. What a shame to be naked and stinking in front of you. ”

Yoela speaks in a calm voice. “You must have no shame. Yonatan. It was the crucifiers who forced you to strip naked of your clothes. You are not naked by your will.”

“When a man is crucified like me, he suffers in different ways. The pain of the nails and the cross is hard, but the humiliation caused by being completely naked to his family, friends and enemies is horrible. There are physical and psychological punishments. ”

“Oh, Yoela, I suffer constantly and the pain is hard, very difficult to accept. It’s so hard to hang naked on this cross. I pray to die soon! She doesn’t come fast enough.”

Yoela pauses, as if she were unwilling to provide the next message to her crucified brother.

“Your young son believes you are already dead, killed by the robbers who met you on your way to the city. ”

Yonatan shouts “NO! This cannot be true! I want to see him again, to give him my blessing! I have to see him. Bring it to me. ”

Yoela then gets angry: “No, Yonatan, no question of that. How do you want your son to remember you? As a father, well dressed, handsome and affectionate or as a little crucified criminal? You hang on this cross completely naked, your balls in the air, you bleed, you scream in pain, your body sweats, your body stinks and you are disgusting with dirt. Do you want him to tell later how his father screamed, naked, on his cross? Do you want him to have nightmares where he remembers your humiliated and mutilated body? No, I don’t think so.”

Yonatan starts crying again. “I will never see him again. I will not be able to give him my blessing, that I love him.” Yonatan sobs so hard that he begins to choke and cough.

“Your son will not know his father. He will be raised without taking advantage of your presence of your advice. For your crimes you had to be put to death, you had to be crucified. You abandoned your paternity when you entered the residence of the armed prosecutor with a knife and ready to murder him. You suffer, Yonatan and it’s only justice you are now facing. But you will not expose your son to the obscene sight of his father tortured naked on the cross.”

“Your tongue is sharp and hurts me. Yet you say true Yoela. You are right but I ask you to teach him love and respect for his father. Make sure he remembers me.”

“I’ll stay here until you die, brother. I won’t abandon you.” And she begins to sing a light melody that their mother taught them when they were children. Soon Yonatan starts shouting again caught up by the cramps.

I will soon be assailed by this additional horrors too. My first cramp in the thigh occurs shortly after Yoela began singing. I twist my body in all directions to relieve it but in vain. My penis dances the jitter and bounces on my stomach and thighs while I shake on my cross. Finally it passes but others occur in the calves, arms and even in the ribs and my anus impaled by the cornu. Our torture is justified for the authorities but it is appalling. I am so tired of this permanent torture.

The day is moving forward and we are shouting less and less. Our throats are sore by our screams and we have less energy and strength to scream. Gidon and I moan from time to time to break the boredom and monotony of pain. I can guess by listening to him the type of pain that hits Gidon “beginning of a series of cramps” or “the sedile rubs and skins my ass”

Yonatan is becoming weaker and weaker. It is obvious that his agony will end before ours. His body is mostly slumped forward, his head on his chest, his eyes closed.

 

[hb21]

For some time now, stray dogs have been interested in our crucifixion, probably attracted by the pungent smell of our bodies and blood. They have already tried to approach several times, sniffing the hot air but, so far, one of the guards has always made them flee by throwing a stone at them.

A large black and brown dog more reckless than the others, makes a try again and approaches the place where we are crucified naked, vulnerable and defenseless. The animal is very attentive to the slightest reaction of the guards. But this time, they don’t react, too busy playing and indifferent to our fate.

The dog crawls carefully behind Gidon’s cross and then stands just below him and points his muzzle upwards, sniffing my fellow-crucified’s body who now is very worried about the proximity of the animal, warns in vains the guards who ignore us.

Gidon screams after the dog who walks away a few steps and then comes back. The crucified young rebel screams again to make him leave but the dog realizes that he has nothing to fear from him. In despair the crucified rebel projects his body and tries to move it as violently as he can despite the horrible pain, but quickly it no longer works either: the dog has understood that Gidon is totally powerless and at his mercy.

The animal then stands on the poor man’s left leg, his claws skinning his flesh. He sniffs the inside of his thigh. After he had been crucified, Gidon had shit and pissed several times and his body stench has attracted the animal. Raising his head, he identifies the genitals of the crucified man. His penis, always kept rigid by the rope, and his balls tremble and agitate as the whining young rebel tries in vain to make the dog leave.

The latter begins to sniff and then lick his erect penis and testicles. Gidon no longer moves as if paralyzed, terrified by the prospect of castration, his virility torn apart by a marauding animal. The dog begins to growl slowly and then stronger and stronger. Finally Yoela gets up, screams and gestures, threatening the dog and then makes him flee by throwing a stone at him.

Gidon sighs with relief, and collapses his exhausted body back on his sedile. He moans in pain when the rough branch rubs once again the tender skin of his crotch. He looks pathetically at Yoela, tilts his head and whispers “thank you madam.”

 

[phlebas]

The helpless crucified men are getting a thorough workout. One has to interact with his sister in the most humiliating circumstances, another faces a terrifying animal mutilation. To be naked and crucified is a brutally exposing experience.

 

[hb21]

It’s hot, so hot. The sun burns my skin inexorably. To prolong our torture, our guards make us drink regularly so I am not seriously dehydrated. Flying insects buzz around us and bite or sting our flesh with impunity. It’s so frustrating not to be able to rub my face or scratch my bites. My hands are definitely out of use, fixed to death by nails to a piece of wood.

I look at my companions in suffering and the road between them. It shimmers in the intense heat. Traffic on the quarry road is interrupted by the heat. Only an old man struggles to climb the hill. He is progressing slowly but steadily. He has something familiar about him.

I close my eyes to try to chase away the sweat that blurs my vision. I’m still focusing on man. “Oh, no! He’s my father! Oh my god! I don’t want him to see me this way, naked, disgusting, bloody, sweaty and suffering a thousand deaths, nails in my ankles and wrists, impaled on my seat by the cornu up my anus.

It’s already horrible and humiliating for strangers to look at my body and make fun of my nudity. Now it’s my own father who will see me naked, suffering and crucified. I squirm on my cross desperately trying to find a position that allows me to hide my genitals but the only thing I manage to do is to further increase the pain that overwhelms me and cause the cornu to move deep inside my hole.

I suspect my friend of having warned him of my conviction and being sentenced to death by crucifixion, and I blame him that I envied Yonatan for being accompanied on his march to the crucifixion site by his family and especially his sister. I would have liked no one in my family or friends to see my complete humiliation.

I shake my head to rid my forehead of sweat and to frighten the insects that buzz in my ears and around my eyes. It is almost within reach of voice when I am seized by an atrocious cramp in my left leg and simultaneously in my entire right side. Then my other leg tetanizes as my muscles rebel. My body is starting to betray me.

Pain is now the norm for me, but that coming from these generalized cramps is extreme and I can’t help but scream, express my pain despite my father’s proximity. I can’t contain my suffering and I start crying and making piercing cries like an animal.

 

[patbeer]

My goodness what a series!!!

 

[dfg42]

The helpless crucified men are getting a thorough workout. One has to interact with his sister in the most humiliating circumstances, another faces a terrifying animal mutilation. To be naked and crucified is a brutally exposing experience.

That is one of my prefered scenarios, to do the crucfixion thing in a family environment not in a S/M club and not under "sex partners". Historicaly we would see the crucified Jesus being seen by his mother, and "girl friend" Maria Magdalene. His step-father, Josef, we think is dead that moment and his friends hide from the "officials" then. Personally, i think it more an humiliation when the crucifixion of a state where the victim is helpless. Here also the nudity is not so much a problem. We all see a nude family member which was treated medically being exposed: to tell a story of mine, my equally old cousin, we must have been 10 or so, once fell onto a fence while climbing on the trees, the hence just missed his penis and so we had to take care of that while he was fully exposed, so no big deal of that. I mean the situation was no big deal, naturally he had to go to the doctor.

 

[hb21]

My father arrives at the hilltop where we have been crucified. The guards forbid him access to my cross. I make piercing screams and my face is distorted by the horrible agony I suffer. I twist on my cross as much as the cornu up my anus will allow me, and painfully change position constantly in order to try to stop the cramps. It could be thought that I want to pull myself off of the cross but I’m just trying to reduce the pain I feel a little, to make it tolerable.

The tired old man speaks while panting to the guards, “I am an old man and his father. I will not do anything foolish. I know I can’t free my son from his cross with you all around. Can I get closer to him? Let me go to him like this woman who stands close to the other young man.”

The guards look at Longinus who tilts his head vertically. They sheath their swords and move away.

 

[hb21]

My father laments and calls on the soldiers and Longinus “oh my god. He suffers so much. The pain ravages him. Can’t you do something? Have mercy on him! He will die on the cross, it’s inevitable, but can’t you shorten this extreme torment I see?”

Longinus approaches and responds. Old man, I don’t wish you any harm but don’t demand anything from us. You are close to your son, because of my kindness. And we no longer torture your son. No red-heated poker is applied to his skin. We don’t tear his nipples and we’re not going to castrate him. We don’t even whip him. Torture is inflicted by the tree, four nails and your son, the thief himself. We cannot reduce or stop it. He was condemned to suffer these unimaginable horrors of crucifixion. The prosecutor considered that his crime was worthy of such torture. Therefore, he will endure it. I know it’s very hard for a father to see his son naked and tortured, but you always have the opportunity to leave.”

The merchant adds wickedly. “He only got what he deserves. Vermin like him must be exterminated. And if his torture can deter others from stealing so much the better! At least he will not make any other victims.”

I always moan rising on my cross to fall back a few seconds later. I am torn apart, my extremities nailed to wood and my blood flows, drip from my wounds. I am humiliated to be have my naked body exhibited in this way in front of my own father, but the crucifixion is a public punishment. Shame is one of them. I am totally naked, my penis visible to anyone who wants to watch it.

My pain is obvious and it serves as a deterrent. She forces me to fight on my cross: I have no other choice. We have never seen a tortured remain stoic on the cross. The pain is too intense! It is constantly renewed and intensifies with new torments. And the worst of all is that you can’t shorten your suffering. You are forced to endure an atrocious embrace with the object that is slowly killing you.

 

[hb21]

My cramps are finally starting to recede. I’m exhausted and I’m trying to catch my breath. My movements are becoming less and less violent. The monotony and boredom of “normal” pain resumes. My agony continues in an endless cycle.

My father looks at the vultures that turn in the sky waiting for our death while I pursue my obscene dance to breathe and to look in vain for a position for my body where my torture is less intense: I push on my ankles and pull on my arms to lift myself up and be able to breathe more easily then I let myself fall back exhausted again on the cornu attached to the stipe.

I want to get my father’s attention. My throat is sore from the screams I uttered during my cramps just before. I try to clear my throat, then I manage to shout a weak and shrill word: “father. I repeat “father.”

He turns to me and remains speechless for a moment, taken by emotion. Our eyes meet and I see sadness and resignation in his eyes and he can read despair and suffering in mine.

“Oh my god, what did they do Reuven? What did they do to my son? How you must suffer! ”

I don’t answer him because I’m starting to cry. It’s horrible to be nailed naked on the cross and not be able to run to him and throw my arms around him. I didn’t want his presence here, ashamed of my nudity and humiliation and not wanting him to see me screaming in pain, my penis exhibited. But now that he is there, his presence relieves me and brings me a little comfort. Someone loves me enough to be with me in my misery.

He turns to the Romans and asks in disbelief “how can you do this to a man? How can you sit here without doing anything to shorten his agony? Don’t you have any pity?”

I would like to explain to my father that I was no longer a man but a poor object that was slowly destroyed but I do not have the strength.

I don’t want him to be in trouble and I’m trying to calm him down:

“Father... please... Calm down... If they understood...what...I’m suffering...They would never...that.... To another man. ”

My father holds out his hands as if to hug me but the guards yell at him not to touch me. No comfort can be brought to the crucified.

He tells me that he came to be there with me. Menachem told him how he saw me carrying my patibulum tied to my shoulders and arms, almost naked and that I had asked him to look for Demetrius and plead with the prosecutor on my behalf. My father went to the praetorium but Gallius refused to meet him. A servant took his written request to the prosecutor. The servant came back with a message for my father. “Your son is a thief and has been treated as all thieves should be. If you want to see him, he is crucified up on the quarry hill.”

I have long since abandoned the hope of being rescued but my father’s words petrify me. I would die up on the hill of the quarry. My destiny is sealed. I have been crucified!

I look down. My toes are so close to the earth, yet they will never trample it again. The heat is unbearable and the sun is starting to puff my skin. Flies and other insects swirl in circles around my stinking crucified body. I am desperate by this endless agony and with no other outcome than my death.

 

[hb21]

next part... in a long time...

 

[hb21]

try of new character

 

[crassuswild]

try of new character

Excellent

 

[dfg42]

try of new character

good one, but he is already in pain, guess the pubic hair twitches him.

 

[hb21]

new iray pictures for old story: crucified for example