Barb is doing her best to shield herself from the erotic emotions that stimulates her beyond what she will ever admit!
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Barb and the letter
- Thread starter thehangingtree
- Start date
Friday night I don’t eat much of my last meal. Tomorrow I will make my last walk to be crucified and hang from a cross until I am dead. I am bitter as the ‘crimes’ I am condemned for weren’t even crimes a few years back. I’ve been told that I have been condemned to satisfy the ‘#me too’ movement where laws drawn up against lecherous men must include women also. I’m having thoughts about this whole ‘tweet’ movement.
Saturday morning arrives and as the sun has barely cleared the horizon I am brought to a room and mounted on a frame where I can barely move and that includes having my legs spread wide apart. I naturally assume I am about to be raped. I have taught about this custom in my classes at the UVM. It seems the bastards have no problem executing a women but she damn well can’t die a virgin martyr! There is nothing I can do to prevent my violation. I look at the two dozen people who have paid to see me taken. They seem to be in a jovial mood as they chat about my situation. A man not much taller than I am walks around me. He is built of iron and his cock looks like he stole it from a huge beast. He steps behind me between my feet.
“Go ahead and take me” I hiss. “I hope you all enjoy the show!”
“I will” the man replies. “By your own court testimony you have not experienced anal sex. We must insure you don’t die a butt-fuck virgin.”
I feel him spread the buns of my ass and the tip of his cock push against my bum’s rosebud. I wince “Please don’t do that to… AUGH…OH DAMN!”
He drives his cock deep into my bowels.
There is nothing gentle about his violation. I am nothing but a fuck-doll for him. I hope he enjoys raping my ass. The spectators seem to approve of his pummeling of my bowels. Tears run down my face both from pain and humiliation as the spectators enjoy morning cocktails as my ass is reamed by this bastard. There is no concern for me, only his and the spectators pleasure.
I don’t know how long it takes. He rams me hard enough even bound as I am my body rocks on the frame. I have snot spilling from my nose and drool pours from my mouth. I grunt or curse with each thrust. The spectators are thoroughly enjoying the show and this will be the best part of my day!
Almost exactly as I had imagined the cross’ beam is placed on my shoulders and my wrists are bound widely spread to the ends of beams. In front of me a pair of doors open and a snap of a whip moves me forward to march to my crucifixion. I step outside and stop as I see the crowd assembled to watch me die.
A few more lashes of the whip force me to walk into the crowd. The beam I am carrying is heavy and awkwardly mounted on me. The gravel path stabs at my feet. I am hungry from not eating much last night and under the morning sun I sweat profusely while my thirst grows. I march naked through crowd carrying the beam my wrists will soon be nailed to. Each step brings me closer to my crucifixion yet each pause I take earns me another blow from the whip.
I stumble and fall. There is no concern for how I am. Guards hoist me to my feet and the whip urges me forward.
Around me the crowd mocks me as struggle to carry the beam up the hill. I would throw down beam if I could but ropes binding my wrists prevents from doing so and the lashes of the whip forces me up the hill. It is beyond imagination I have to carry part of the cross I will be nailed to through the crowd and to the mound I will be crucified on.
At the top of the hill the beam is taken from my back. I stand unbound while I watch them attach the beam to the stipe. I want to run but the guard behind me holds a thick clump of my hair.
After the cross is assembled I am pulled towards it and laid on the stout wood. My arms are stretched out and firmly held over the cross. I watch in near panic as a thick spike is pressed against my wrist. I beg them not to drive it throw my wrist.
My plea goes unheeded and I howl in agony as the first blow of hammer drives the spike through my wrist and into the cross. I can’t tell you how many hits were made to drive the spike into the cross. Every hit makes me cry in pain. I am delusional from pain that I don’t even notice they have moved to my other wrist until the mallet drives the second spike through my wrist.
I don’t notice them set one foot on the cross and place the other over the first until the spike is driven through them. My hips rise from the searing pain. I look over my reeling body as I see the mallet swing to the spike that has shattered my feet.
-Barb Moore
I drive the last spike through Barb Moore’s feet. I feel sorry for the woman but I have my job to do. She writhes in pain as the spike pushes through the broken bones of her feet.
I wonder if she knows she dumped her bladder and bowels…
Tree
This is so unjust. I do not deserve to be executed and certainly not in this way. I am damned to die hanging naked from a cross above the crowd that cares nothing about me, only the show of the cross tearing me apart. Let’s just do it. I know I am all but dead now.
Every move I make hurts more than laying still yet I can’t stand the pain of the nails holding me to the cross. Young men gather around the top of my cross. One of them says “Are you ready to be crucified?”
I look at him and says “I am crucified, you asshole. Lift me up and get this done!”
-Barb Moore
Saturday morning arrives and as the sun has barely cleared the horizon I am brought to a room and mounted on a frame where I can barely move and that includes having my legs spread wide apart. I naturally assume I am about to be raped. I have taught about this custom in my classes at the UVM. It seems the bastards have no problem executing a women but she damn well can’t die a virgin martyr! There is nothing I can do to prevent my violation. I look at the two dozen people who have paid to see me taken. They seem to be in a jovial mood as they chat about my situation. A man not much taller than I am walks around me. He is built of iron and his cock looks like he stole it from a huge beast. He steps behind me between my feet.
“Go ahead and take me” I hiss. “I hope you all enjoy the show!”
“I will” the man replies. “By your own court testimony you have not experienced anal sex. We must insure you don’t die a butt-fuck virgin.”
I feel him spread the buns of my ass and the tip of his cock push against my bum’s rosebud. I wince “Please don’t do that to… AUGH…OH DAMN!”
He drives his cock deep into my bowels.
There is nothing gentle about his violation. I am nothing but a fuck-doll for him. I hope he enjoys raping my ass. The spectators seem to approve of his pummeling of my bowels. Tears run down my face both from pain and humiliation as the spectators enjoy morning cocktails as my ass is reamed by this bastard. There is no concern for me, only his and the spectators pleasure.
I don’t know how long it takes. He rams me hard enough even bound as I am my body rocks on the frame. I have snot spilling from my nose and drool pours from my mouth. I grunt or curse with each thrust. The spectators are thoroughly enjoying the show and this will be the best part of my day!
Almost exactly as I had imagined the cross’ beam is placed on my shoulders and my wrists are bound widely spread to the ends of beams. In front of me a pair of doors open and a snap of a whip moves me forward to march to my crucifixion. I step outside and stop as I see the crowd assembled to watch me die.
A few more lashes of the whip force me to walk into the crowd. The beam I am carrying is heavy and awkwardly mounted on me. The gravel path stabs at my feet. I am hungry from not eating much last night and under the morning sun I sweat profusely while my thirst grows. I march naked through crowd carrying the beam my wrists will soon be nailed to. Each step brings me closer to my crucifixion yet each pause I take earns me another blow from the whip.
I stumble and fall. There is no concern for how I am. Guards hoist me to my feet and the whip urges me forward.
Around me the crowd mocks me as struggle to carry the beam up the hill. I would throw down beam if I could but ropes binding my wrists prevents from doing so and the lashes of the whip forces me up the hill. It is beyond imagination I have to carry part of the cross I will be nailed to through the crowd and to the mound I will be crucified on.
At the top of the hill the beam is taken from my back. I stand unbound while I watch them attach the beam to the stipe. I want to run but the guard behind me holds a thick clump of my hair.
After the cross is assembled I am pulled towards it and laid on the stout wood. My arms are stretched out and firmly held over the cross. I watch in near panic as a thick spike is pressed against my wrist. I beg them not to drive it throw my wrist.
My plea goes unheeded and I howl in agony as the first blow of hammer drives the spike through my wrist and into the cross. I can’t tell you how many hits were made to drive the spike into the cross. Every hit makes me cry in pain. I am delusional from pain that I don’t even notice they have moved to my other wrist until the mallet drives the second spike through my wrist.
I don’t notice them set one foot on the cross and place the other over the first until the spike is driven through them. My hips rise from the searing pain. I look over my reeling body as I see the mallet swing to the spike that has shattered my feet.
-Barb Moore
I drive the last spike through Barb Moore’s feet. I feel sorry for the woman but I have my job to do. She writhes in pain as the spike pushes through the broken bones of her feet.
I wonder if she knows she dumped her bladder and bowels…
Tree
This is so unjust. I do not deserve to be executed and certainly not in this way. I am damned to die hanging naked from a cross above the crowd that cares nothing about me, only the show of the cross tearing me apart. Let’s just do it. I know I am all but dead now.
Every move I make hurts more than laying still yet I can’t stand the pain of the nails holding me to the cross. Young men gather around the top of my cross. One of them says “Are you ready to be crucified?”
I look at him and says “I am crucified, you asshole. Lift me up and get this done!”
-Barb Moore
Attachments
What? That's not the movement I know!
That's not a problem in my case ...
I feel him spread the buns of my ass and the tip of his cock push against my bum’s rosebud. I wince “Please don’t do that to… AUGH…OH DAMN!”
He drives his cock deep into my bowels.
THAT is not the kind of virgin I thought we were talking about here!
A few more lashes of the whip force me to walk into the crowd.
I'm going, I'm going ... what's your fucking hurry?
. I want to run but the guard behind me holds a thick clump of my hair.
Ouch! No fair!
My plea goes unheeded and I howl in agony as the first blow of hammer drives the spike through my wrist and into the cross. I can’t tell you how many hits were made to drive the spike into the cross. Every hit makes me cry in pain. I am delusional from pain that I don’t even notice they have moved to my other wrist until the mallet drives the second spike through my wrist.
This pic looks familiar ... haven't I been here recently on another thread?
I wonder if she knows she dumped her bladder and bowels…
I think your shoes know about it ...
I want that to be my epithet ...
I've been known to be on the impatient side ...
Tree will post one more tonight but wishes Barb the happiest of birthdays before she is crucified!What? That's not the movement I know!
That's not a problem in my case ...
THAT is not the kind of virgin I thought we were talking about here!
I'm going, I'm going ... what's your fucking hurry?
Ouch! No fair!
This pic looks familiar ... haven't I been here recently on another thread?
I think your shoes know about it ...
I want that to be my epithet ...
I've been known to be on the impatient side ...
I am not ready to die yet I know that option is not left to me. I am nailed an innocent women to a cross to suffer my death hanging crucified on two wooden beams. Why protest? I am damned to die here. I look at the young men ready to raise me. It is with only contempt I ask “Are you boys sure you are man enough?”
It is time- right or wrong- for me to die crucified on this damn cross. They lift the cross and one of them says “Let us know when you are hanging from the cross.”
I feel my body slide down the cross’ stipe. This is going to hurt really badly.
I don’t remember when the cross dropped into the hole. I come around to the scum cheering my torture. Do they know it is my birthday? I doubt it.
-Barb Moore
It is time- right or wrong- for me to die crucified on this damn cross. They lift the cross and one of them says “Let us know when you are hanging from the cross.”
I feel my body slide down the cross’ stipe. This is going to hurt really badly.
I don’t remember when the cross dropped into the hole. I come around to the scum cheering my torture. Do they know it is my birthday? I doubt it.
-Barb Moore
Barb, I am sure one or two of them might care a little bit... I think...Do they even care?
Love those carrying pics! Can I repost in the carrying Thread?
But you look great! And they didn't shave you completely, so every bit of you is nice.Let’s just do it. I know I am all but dead now.
This doesn't make you feel good?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
But you look great! And they didn't shave you completely, so every bit of you is nice.
A little bush is nice?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
Thanks Jolly!
Tree never planned this to be for Barb's birthday but when the hell does his plans work out?!?!?!But you look great! And they didn't shave you completely, so every bit of you is nice.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
Perhaps any regrets I have should disappear...A little bush is nice?
Thanks Jolly!
Really to our Rebel Leader have many more happy birthdays!
I never wanted you to feel tied down... I didn't mind doing it to you mind you!!!
Ol' Tree
bobinder
ARTISAN
Nice manip, Tree - I rather like it.
(And you made it in less than 19 hours!
)
Brutal, harsh, and well told in your typically economical style.
This is so unjust. I do not deserve to be executed and certainly not in this way. I am damned to die hanging naked from a cross above the crowd that cares nothing about me, only the show of the cross tearing me apart. Let’s just do it. I know I am all but dead now.
As good a summing up of the crux experience as you are ever likely to get in 2 lines. And I do have a weakness for the undeserving victim. (yes, I know, they are not "victims")