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Sketches by scorpio
- Thread starter jimsac
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jimsac
Tribune
Queen @GabriellaSivilla gasps for breath. She hangs on the cross, utterly weak and desolate.
The pain on her nailed hands is undescribable and she is having real difficulty in breathing.
She needs to move and, despite all the agony, fill her lungs with air...
The pain on her nailed hands is undescribable and she is having real difficulty in breathing.
She needs to move and, despite all the agony, fill her lungs with air...
Attachments
GabriellaSivilla
Governor
Confusedly, Gabriella hears somebody from below shouting to untie the ropes around her arms and tie them again around her wrists. Two from the execution squad climb on the ladder behind the stipe. The one at her left grabs her body, to prevent her from suddenly sagging. He does it in the most lewd way, his right hand just between her buttocks to support her crotch, his thick dirty fingers between her long beautiful legs, the other around her chest, his hand grabbing tightly her right tit.
The other works rapidly on the ropes around her arms, untying first one and retying it around her wrist, then moving to the other, working this time with some difficulty, because of the presence of his fellow thug. Then he steps down, looking up from the base of the cross in fascination at the tortured body, and nodding to the other. The other grins, leans forward, bites her ear, taking care not to be hurt by the crown and thorns and sadistically whispers: "Time to go, honey..."
He lets go of her body. Maybe out of mercy, but most probably not to spoil the work of his fellow, he does it slowly. First he moves his left arm, letting her full weight rest on the hand between her legs, then lowers her, guiding her sagging with his hand on her hip.
Even in this way, for Gabriella this descent is a nightmare of pain and agony. As her lithe body moves down the cross, her arms are compelled to rotate around the fixed points constituted by the nails in her wrists. In the way, the squared shafts grate on the little bones in there, scratching and displacing them, and sending excruciating bolts of pain up her arms to explode in her head.
She howls in agony, pitifully, as they are wounding again her body, the torture in her arms too intense to bear, a long scream starting low to reach high pitches as her wrists rotate painfully: "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
This, of course, excites the mob, here to see her suffer. "Suck my dick, you bitch!" "You deserve it all, you whore!" "Get down from the cross, and let us bugger you!" are just the most gentle.
Feeling the pain in her arms grow more and more, to reach unprecedented levels, Gabriella tries to pull on her legs, not to sag too much. This means putting additional pressure on her nailed feet, and the inflamed nerves in her calves shout their painful protest to her, while her crimson blood gush from the wound in her feet. And in the movement she loses her composure, her hips pulling to the right, her upper torso bent forward.
Desperate, she hangs from the nails in her wrists, howling in pain: "aaaaAAAHH aaaHHHHHH", crying, her perky tits dangling so well on display. These are just her first, terrible minutes on the cross.
The other works rapidly on the ropes around her arms, untying first one and retying it around her wrist, then moving to the other, working this time with some difficulty, because of the presence of his fellow thug. Then he steps down, looking up from the base of the cross in fascination at the tortured body, and nodding to the other. The other grins, leans forward, bites her ear, taking care not to be hurt by the crown and thorns and sadistically whispers: "Time to go, honey..."
He lets go of her body. Maybe out of mercy, but most probably not to spoil the work of his fellow, he does it slowly. First he moves his left arm, letting her full weight rest on the hand between her legs, then lowers her, guiding her sagging with his hand on her hip.
Even in this way, for Gabriella this descent is a nightmare of pain and agony. As her lithe body moves down the cross, her arms are compelled to rotate around the fixed points constituted by the nails in her wrists. In the way, the squared shafts grate on the little bones in there, scratching and displacing them, and sending excruciating bolts of pain up her arms to explode in her head.
She howls in agony, pitifully, as they are wounding again her body, the torture in her arms too intense to bear, a long scream starting low to reach high pitches as her wrists rotate painfully: "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
This, of course, excites the mob, here to see her suffer. "Suck my dick, you bitch!" "You deserve it all, you whore!" "Get down from the cross, and let us bugger you!" are just the most gentle.
Feeling the pain in her arms grow more and more, to reach unprecedented levels, Gabriella tries to pull on her legs, not to sag too much. This means putting additional pressure on her nailed feet, and the inflamed nerves in her calves shout their painful protest to her, while her crimson blood gush from the wound in her feet. And in the movement she loses her composure, her hips pulling to the right, her upper torso bent forward.
Desperate, she hangs from the nails in her wrists, howling in pain: "aaaaAAAHH aaaHHHHHH", crying, her perky tits dangling so well on display. These are just her first, terrible minutes on the cross.
Attachments
jimsac
Tribune
After reading this it’s not just your tits that are perky. Lovely erotic piece. All that manhandling while the Queen is helplessly nailed to the cross.
GabriellaSivilla
Governor
GabriellaSivilla
Governor
Bit by bit, at the cost of inhuman efforts and excruciating agony, Gabriella succeeds in straightening herself up. Cautiously, slowly, she bends her knees and lowers herself, her long beautiful legs half-folded. Then she lets herself hang from the nails in her wrists, her arms stretched, her tummy taut, the pain exploding in her head like they were torning apart her hands and at the same time immersing them in white hot lava.
In her half sitting position, she lets another of her heart-rendering howls escape her lips, conveying in it all the pain and agony which is being inflicted upon her, her eyes turned to the sky: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH nnnaaarrggggAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Then she lowers her head, defeated, hanging naked from her tree on pain.
Around her, the noise and the insults have not stopped. All eyes are on her. The blood from the wounds in her wrists slowly trails down her arms, drawing long contorted crimson lines on her pale skin. The thorns from her crown, deeply stuck in her temples and forefront, circle her blond hair, letting droplets of blood slide down on her regal cheekbones.
But the gaze of Skopius does not stop on her beautiful face. It moves to fix her tits, topped by her dark pink areole and nipples, heaving each time Gabriella inhales some air to breath, imagining how it would be hot to bite that soft flesh once again. Then moves to the scourge wounds at her sides, marveling at how angry and deep they are, thinking that his comrades did such a good job. And finally goes to her rounded buttocks, her long legs and what is between them: "mmhhh... we did a good job there, how she whimpered when we fucked the shit out of her, in her pussy and ass!"
Then, he is distracted from his thoughts, as suddenly Gabriella howls again..."AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" just because the pain has become too much to bear. She hangs from her cross, naked, beaten, bleeding, the marks of the scourging criss-crossing her body, crowned with thorns, surrounded by the execution squad and behind it a mob come here to see her tortured to death.
She inhales again, but, this time, just a bit of precious air enters her lungs. She gasps. She tries again. And again. Then she looks up to the blue sky: "Will I suffocate on the cross?"
In her half sitting position, she lets another of her heart-rendering howls escape her lips, conveying in it all the pain and agony which is being inflicted upon her, her eyes turned to the sky: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH nnnaaarrggggAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Then she lowers her head, defeated, hanging naked from her tree on pain.
Around her, the noise and the insults have not stopped. All eyes are on her. The blood from the wounds in her wrists slowly trails down her arms, drawing long contorted crimson lines on her pale skin. The thorns from her crown, deeply stuck in her temples and forefront, circle her blond hair, letting droplets of blood slide down on her regal cheekbones.
But the gaze of Skopius does not stop on her beautiful face. It moves to fix her tits, topped by her dark pink areole and nipples, heaving each time Gabriella inhales some air to breath, imagining how it would be hot to bite that soft flesh once again. Then moves to the scourge wounds at her sides, marveling at how angry and deep they are, thinking that his comrades did such a good job. And finally goes to her rounded buttocks, her long legs and what is between them: "mmhhh... we did a good job there, how she whimpered when we fucked the shit out of her, in her pussy and ass!"
Then, he is distracted from his thoughts, as suddenly Gabriella howls again..."AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" just because the pain has become too much to bear. She hangs from her cross, naked, beaten, bleeding, the marks of the scourging criss-crossing her body, crowned with thorns, surrounded by the execution squad and behind it a mob come here to see her tortured to death.
She inhales again, but, this time, just a bit of precious air enters her lungs. She gasps. She tries again. And again. Then she looks up to the blue sky: "Will I suffocate on the cross?"
Attachments
jimsac
Tribune
Oh yes, and I’m sure a great number of us find our pants really uncomfortable when reading your hot description of your naked sufferings on the cross.mmmhhh... I really love what's perky from you!
jimsac
Tribune
I look at the suffering woman. Not out of pity really. Ive lost count of how many I’ve seen. In so many different positions.
But this one is unique. Her abused and tortured naked body, although glistening with blood and criss crossed by ugly raw welts and angry weals, is still desirable. The way her body undulates as she gasps and struggles for every breath. Her ample breasts rock to and fro, capped by dark pink nipples that can cut glass.
But she needs to change her position soon if she wants to last longer on her throne.
“Come on, your Majesty, pull yourself up!”, I cry. I meant this as a taunt but the tone of my voice suggests it is more of a plea....
But this one is unique. Her abused and tortured naked body, although glistening with blood and criss crossed by ugly raw welts and angry weals, is still desirable. The way her body undulates as she gasps and struggles for every breath. Her ample breasts rock to and fro, capped by dark pink nipples that can cut glass.
But she needs to change her position soon if she wants to last longer on her throne.
“Come on, your Majesty, pull yourself up!”, I cry. I meant this as a taunt but the tone of my voice suggests it is more of a plea....
Brutalised, bleeding, degraded, the woman is clearly struggling to breath. Does no one have a shred of sympathy for her? All eyes are on her naked body as it battles against the cross, the inhuman instrument of humiliating torture and death. Some in the crowd watch with ill concealed lust and pleasure. Others look on wondering if she has breathed her last.
I hear a cry from the crowd;
“Come on, your Majesty, pull yourself up!”
So she has at least one who wants to see her live a little longer. Is this someone who feels sorrow for her, or just wants the show to go on longer? Can they even tell? Why am I here, after all. Part of me feels sympathy, of course, how could I not? Part of me feels fascination, a curiosity to see this to the end, to see how much a woman's body can endure in pursuit of survival. Part of me too feels lust, desire, excitement at seeing this frankly erotic display, a beautiful queen stripped and spread lewdly before us as she fights for life.
Sex and death, eros and thanatos, her ordeal is a symbol for life in general. We are born, we fuck, we die.
Look, she is rising again, another breath, another few minutes of life.
And I stay . . . .
D
Deleted member 16320
Guest
Hello I have a question for you, do you draw it on a graphics tablet, or manually using crayons and pencils?
thanks a lot.
thanks a lot.
wikk
Magistrate
Phlebas ! why you were first and wrote what I wanted to write!
I am in this crowd and I feel the same as you ... you stand somewhere there, but my legs have buckledand I fell on my knees before my queen - so terribly executed ...
jimsac
Tribune
I use pencils and drawing pens.
carloscruz
Governor
How right both of you are Phlebas and Wikk!
I am sure there are many of us in de mob witnessing Her crucifixion, who feel the same conflicting emotions!
It brakes my heart to see her dying. But she looks so sexy crucied!
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jimsac
Tribune
Queen @GabriellaSivilla slowly pulls herself up, howling in pain as all her weight is transferred to her nailed feet.
Her naked body convulses and trembles. More blood oozes from her pierced limbs.
Truly a dance of pain...
Her naked body convulses and trembles. More blood oozes from her pierced limbs.
Truly a dance of pain...
Attachments
wikk
Magistrate
my scale of worship for these graphics and for Gabriella has been exceeded ...
silence remains
...
I would look with compassion ... thinking ... how could they do it ... how can they punish in such a terrible way ... and I would be shocked, I would like to leave this place at once ... but I would also be excited, aroused ... would I leave?
How elaborate was the cruelty of the Romans, how terrifying this symbol of their law and power ...
silence remains
...
I would look with compassion ... thinking ... how could they do it ... how can they punish in such a terrible way ... and I would be shocked, I would like to leave this place at once ... but I would also be excited, aroused ... would I leave?
How elaborate was the cruelty of the Romans, how terrifying this symbol of their law and power ...
GabriellaSivilla
Governor
Gabriella hangs naked from the cross, her limbs cruelly pierced by the nails. It is around twenty minutes now, since they untied the ropes around her arms and tied them again around her wrists. Her long beautiful legs, streaked with blood and angry welts, are bent at forty-five degrees, her arms are stretched, her tummy taut, her chest heaving as she breaths in short shallow breaths.
The pain in her arms has been increasing during her ordeal. The tortures are manyfold. There are the nails impaling and scratching her distal nerves, causing electrified bolts of pure agony in her brain. There are the nail shafts grating on the little bones in her wrists, which are a source of excruciating agony deep inside her limbs. And there is the strain put on her arms and forearms, from the full weight of her lithe body, stretching her muscles and sinews, letting the acute ache in her arms spread in all her shoulders and upper torso.
Gabriella has not stopped screaming from pain. In her hanging position, she howls from time to time, when the agony becomes unbearable even remaining still, or when sudden bolts of pain explode as her body twists a bit. Sometimes she just howls from desperation, now that she fully understand how terrible, gruesome, deeply destroying is the torture of dying on a cross. "aaaaaAAHHH" "mmmmAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH" "ooooAAAAHHHHHH" are her howls, the ones of a girl suffering the pains of Hell on Earth.
After about thirty minutes her breathing, which has been always difficult, becomes extremely elaborate. Her hanging position expands her rib cage, and this causes her to be simply unable to exhale. Gabriella breaths in short shallow breaths, and little air enters her lungs. She experiences tightness in her chest, like somebody is squeezing her lungs with a vice, she feels increasingly smothered, she desperately gasps for air like a fish out of water, all in the meanwhile of the horrible, gruesome tortures inflicted upon her.
The mob notices how she is struggling to survive, and this drives them mad. They insult her, they tell to call her army to save her, they ask if she likes being of her throne. They look at her breasts, as she desperately fights to inhales some more air and they are put so well in evidence on her heaving chest.
Then a guard from down there cries out loud: "Come on, your Majesty, PULL YOURSELF UP!” and it is shouted so loud that it clearly reaches Gabriella's ears, even in the mid of all the insults and cat calls.
Gabriella closes her eyes for a second, her desperate cry of realization this time low: "nnnoooooo....." She hesitates a while, bracing herself against what is going to happen, against what is going to cause herself. Then, suddenly, she pushes with all her strength against the thick nails in her delicate feet.
The pain is hallucinating! It engulfs her long legs and pelvis, like they were peeling her skin away, like they were burning her alive with thousands of red hot irons, like they were mangling the bones in her feet. Miraculously, she is up, her legs straight as much as her nailed feet allow, her lithe body and beautiful face contorted with bolts of agony, her arms finally bent, her blood oozing from the terrible wounds in her limbs.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Her cry is terrible, heart-sickening, it brings with it all her body and soul, cruelly teared apart by the terrible torture. She gasps and inhales precious air, in her precarious balance on her wounded feet.
Gabriella learns that the cross is torturing by yourself.
The pain in her arms has been increasing during her ordeal. The tortures are manyfold. There are the nails impaling and scratching her distal nerves, causing electrified bolts of pure agony in her brain. There are the nail shafts grating on the little bones in her wrists, which are a source of excruciating agony deep inside her limbs. And there is the strain put on her arms and forearms, from the full weight of her lithe body, stretching her muscles and sinews, letting the acute ache in her arms spread in all her shoulders and upper torso.
Gabriella has not stopped screaming from pain. In her hanging position, she howls from time to time, when the agony becomes unbearable even remaining still, or when sudden bolts of pain explode as her body twists a bit. Sometimes she just howls from desperation, now that she fully understand how terrible, gruesome, deeply destroying is the torture of dying on a cross. "aaaaaAAHHH" "mmmmAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH" "ooooAAAAHHHHHH" are her howls, the ones of a girl suffering the pains of Hell on Earth.
After about thirty minutes her breathing, which has been always difficult, becomes extremely elaborate. Her hanging position expands her rib cage, and this causes her to be simply unable to exhale. Gabriella breaths in short shallow breaths, and little air enters her lungs. She experiences tightness in her chest, like somebody is squeezing her lungs with a vice, she feels increasingly smothered, she desperately gasps for air like a fish out of water, all in the meanwhile of the horrible, gruesome tortures inflicted upon her.
The mob notices how she is struggling to survive, and this drives them mad. They insult her, they tell to call her army to save her, they ask if she likes being of her throne. They look at her breasts, as she desperately fights to inhales some more air and they are put so well in evidence on her heaving chest.
Then a guard from down there cries out loud: "Come on, your Majesty, PULL YOURSELF UP!” and it is shouted so loud that it clearly reaches Gabriella's ears, even in the mid of all the insults and cat calls.
Gabriella closes her eyes for a second, her desperate cry of realization this time low: "nnnoooooo....." She hesitates a while, bracing herself against what is going to happen, against what is going to cause herself. Then, suddenly, she pushes with all her strength against the thick nails in her delicate feet.
The pain is hallucinating! It engulfs her long legs and pelvis, like they were peeling her skin away, like they were burning her alive with thousands of red hot irons, like they were mangling the bones in her feet. Miraculously, she is up, her legs straight as much as her nailed feet allow, her lithe body and beautiful face contorted with bolts of agony, her arms finally bent, her blood oozing from the terrible wounds in her limbs.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Her cry is terrible, heart-sickening, it brings with it all her body and soul, cruelly teared apart by the terrible torture. She gasps and inhales precious air, in her precarious balance on her wounded feet.
Gabriella learns that the cross is torturing by yourself.
Attachments
jimsac
Tribune
(It is hard to reply to this when your dick wants to explode)
The queen’s body trembles and twitches. She howls and babbles incoherently. But she manages to pull herself up on those magnificent long legs. As she gasps for air, her ribcage expands and contracts madly.
This is so erotic. I can feel my erection pressing against my armor. I want to fuck Gabriella while she is nailed on her cross...