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In The Aftermath Of The Crucifiction

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How could we end up like this?



........ the woman that was whipped when we entered the atrium was made to climb up a ladder, and her arms were tied to the back of the crossbeam. The soldiers just got done fastening her legs to the upright and hammering the titulus above her head. Her name is Daniela, she’s a slave. She must have heard some of our accusation, now bitching at us from her cross..........
Good question. What happens when the main spectacle is over?

There's so much drama and interest as the victims are marched to the execution site.

Oh yes! They are lovely women and the crowd approves! Lots of spectators, both male and female, want to see this.

Horrible to think about . . . yet, in a way, so horribly exciting to fantasize!

Daniela is crucified during the arrival of Andrea and Cire at the execution site. She has nothing better to do than to insult and yell the arriving criminals. I try to understand how she is looking at the scene from her perspective. MS gave us a good idea........

Arrival.JPG
 
THE CRUCIFIED CRIMINAL CIRE CONTEMPLATES HIS DIGNITY

........there is so much time to think while my body is slowly fading away. A good amount of time when I don't pay attention to the screaming spectators or the insulting comments from Daniela opposite to me. Then the center of attention are not the glistening bodies of the crucified for me. The time when my eyes are not focused on Daniela's outstretched, hard tits.

Checking the scene from the cross.JPG

Then I don't constantly control the nails in my wrists and in my feet, or watch Andrea writhing and screaming with, in her case, dangling boobs.
That's when I look at the spectators. Listen to what they got to say. Try to recognize emotions on their faces, of course yell and scream at them.

In those moments I forget that I am hanging naked in front of the spectators. I forget that the audience has a perfect view of my body and that, yes, my cock most of the time is erected and the sun is burning the sensitive skin of my glans.

The spectators from the cross - Kopie.JPG

But that is always for a while only.
May it be a cramp, the fact that I have to get up for air, the laughter from the crowd or the insultings from the others crucified with me, bring me merciless back to reality then.

In this reality every dignity has been taken away from me, and I'm fully aware. It's amazing that it doesn't feel completely wrong.
While I look into the faces, the strange mix of helplessness, lust, pain, shame has an effect on the one hand disturbing, but also triggers acceptance for the situation with me........


The idea of seeing through the eyes of a crucified man has been bothering people for a while:

Crucifixion-Seen-from-the-Cross - Kopie.jpg


Have fun :devil:.
 
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But that is always for a while only.
May it be a cramp, the fact that I have to get up for air, the laughter from the crowd or the insultings from the others crucified with me, bring me merciless back to reality then.

In this reality every dignity has been taken away from me, and I'm fully aware. It's amazing that it doesn't feel completely wrong.
While I look into the faces, the strange mix of helplessness, lust, pain, shame has an effect on the one hand disturbing, but also triggers acceptance for the situation with me........


The idea of seeing through the eyes of a crucified man has been bothering people for a while:
They are all looking up at you, after all!:rolleyes:
 
They are all looking up at you, after all!:rolleyes:
.....I can hear a spectator say. One could think so. But in reality here on the cross, I'm often forced to look at myself with my head hanging down. I even find it hard to keep my eyes open.

Then there is nothing but darkness. Only the laughter of the people, or the insultings from the other victims infiltrate my brain. I can't exhale properly. I have to raise myself to do that.

It takes such efforts to stand up. Therefore I'm doing that only when I have to exhale properly, when the pain in my lungs becomes unbearable.

First I open my eyes, and have to see see my destroyed body.

Then I raise my head, face Daniela opposite to me, start to straighten my legs and push against the nail in my feet. Simultaneously I pull on my nailed wrists while I scream and cry as all the crucified do:

"Let me die, please kill me."

Sometimes I urinate or defeceate a little during that process, or let's say, I have the feeling I do so. It's the excruciating pain that get's my body completely out of control at that though vital position....... :rolleyes:

(Eulalia has started an amazing thread concerning the "Victim's eye view", Jedakk posted some great artwork there out of his Story "The serpents eye", to give the interested an exciting idea of the Victim's eye view. To me the eye view of the crucified murderer is sensational.)
 

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Keep pushing! And you too Daniela! Move your bodies! It must last endlessly for you two criminals!
The laughter and the screaming is so loud. I can pick up only fragments of conversations from the crowd. Words from people that don't care, that don't have any pity. The guards have allowed the crowd to wonder amongst the executed. To me it feels like I'm a piece of meat in a butcher store, that is exhibited for the customers. Some of them assume that we are all criminals. They have to do nothing, but to read the Titulus above the heads of the crucified to actually clarify the matter.

I raise my head to assure myself again. Once more I'm shocked, as I look at the tortured glistening bodies. Though shaken by fever, there is no doubt. The three slaves got the loincloth on, and have been fixed with ropes.

Just Andrea, who is hanging to my left, and I got nailed to our crosses completely naked. Our loincloth in front of us on the ground.

As if hypnotized, my eyes follow my thoughts and meet Andrea's. All the crucified are constantly focusing on something. She is zooming in on me and says angry:

"Did I get you right Cire? I still can hear you say, that it's no problem when we get wasted in the Tavern. Nobody from the Garrison knows that we are here. How does "nobody knows" feel for you? They know very well Cire, we are doomed, asshole. I spit at you."

She hisses these words and is spitting me in the face, while her boobs dangle randomly. Then she turns back to the front, screams and bangs her head wildly.

Opposite to us they have crucified Daniela. The crucifixion team has attached a small board underneath her bottom heel, to make it easier for her to push up. She normally takes every chance to insult the spectators or us criminals. Currently she is also screaming and banging her head. Strange fun. We all have to watch her bouncing tits...... :eek:
 
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To me it feels like I'm a piece of meat in a butcher store, that is exhibited for the customers.

Mostly the meat exhibited in a butcher shop is already dead!
They would not be there if you were dead! They want to see you alive!

Try to make it feel an ultimate art performance!
 
As I look at the spectators, I notice that many of them don't speak, simply don't break their silence. Are they ashamed of what they see?
It is always difficult to dig into people's heads. What brings people to watch such executions?
The easiest answer is, a kind of morbid curiousity?

I think, any sense of 'shame' for having been there, comes up only afterwards. Spectators keeping silence are perhaps a little bit shocked, or in vivid thoughts, trying to process the scene they are watching. Most likely, they try to imagine for themselves, how the experience must be to be crucified themselves.
 
Still, as a crucified I don't get it. We can't defend ourselves. If I'd be a spectator I'd have a ball.

But well here I'm hanging, showing you my balls and cock. Just a bad thief in despair.....
 
You had the chance to defend yourselves in front of the judges.
The verdict is spoken, and you are executed. Whatever you say now, does not matter anymore!
I would try nothing to say, no mourning and not splash tears; it is my fate for me alone.

THE CRUCIFIED BAD THIEF CIRE:

"You spectators don't get it.
Look at my Titulus. I'm crucified because I'm a criminal.
Andrea and I are normally not defending ourselves with words. We'd attack, kill and rob. When we got sentenced in the morning, there was no need to defend ourselves with words. I realized last night that we couldn't escape this time, we were simply to wasted when the Legionaires arrested us. I'm guilty, let's say we are guilty. I don't have a problem with that.
We deserve to be exposed here on the cross. But crucified I can't attack you, though I would love to."

While I'm talking to the spectators I'm sitting on the Sedile. The Torturers have placed it so perfect, that my arms are completely stretched and I have to endure incredible pain triggered by the nails in my wrists. Sitting like that I can't exhale properly, I experience the feeling of suffocation over and over. With my involuntary erected cock I'm again forced to stand up.
Standing up means to pull on the nails in my wrists and to step on the nail that holds my feet in place. I have to scream in agony and do everything I can, just to move up a few inches and fully breathe.

THE CRUCIFIED MURDERESS ANDREA SHOUTING:

"You assholes, I'd stick a knife up your asses if I could."

To keep yelling at the spectators she has to stand up as I did previously.

"Hell, you are laughing at us because we are helpless and naked in front of you. If it makes you feel better when I tell you that my cunt is running down my legs, what the fuck. Here, watch my dangling down tits. The nipples are hard, so there's got to be something positiv for me to hang in front of you assholes."

THE SLAVE DANIELA HANGING OPPOSITE TO US TAKES THE CHANCE:

"You fucking criminals. Watch yourself. You are completely naked and constantly stimulate your sexes with the pegs you're sitting on. These folks that are watching us dying, are nothing but honorable citizens. You receive justice."

THE BAD THIEF CIRE:

Immediately she has to push up, too. Since she is tied with ropes and got her arms over the crossbeam, she must arc forward and tries to get her shoulder as far as possible over her Patibulum. Screaming at us in that manner flushed her face. Moving up and down on the cross slips her loincloth, and gives everybody the chance to look in her pink cunt.

"Hey Daniela, be careful. The honorable citizens are all staring at your tits and your cunt. Watching you, I'm sure you meant "we all receive justice".

I can't help it. I start to laugh out loud......:pancarta:
 
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"Hell, you are laughing at us because we are helpless and naked in front of you. If it makes you feel better when I tell you that my cunt is running down my legs, what the fuck. Here, watch my dangling down tits. The nipples are hard, so there's got to be something positiv for me to hang in front of you assholes."
Carry on, Daniela, you give us a good show! We love it!:rolleyes:

I can't help it. I start to laugh out loud......
Careful! Don't hurt yourself!:devil:
 
THE CRUCIFIED BAD THIEF CIRE:

....... since we professional criminals Andrea and I got arrested, everthing feels like in a nightmare. It seems totally surrealistic, full of sarcasm, unexplainable in a way. Reality for me is merging with fiction. As I look around and try to breathe, I can see all these smiling faces. Plus I can't get the laughter out of my head that I had to listen to, when I was stripped and nailed to the Patibulum.

The cheering of the crowd, as they held my feet in place onto the footrest and drove the nail through my bones into the Stipes. How the spectators clapped when my Titulus got attached. It stays present.

And then I have to watch this little slave Daniela crucified opposite to me. She is permanently agitating against us criminals from her cross. She takes every chance, every move from me, to insult and downgrade me, just like the spectators. Uncaring that she got flogged very heavy, uncaring that her body is covered in blood and sweat and is shiny in the sun.

Luckily they have attached a seat and a footrest for me. These upgrades are very helpful in relieving my body. I turn my head to the guards and tell them:
"Thank you for attaching the footrest and the seat for me, it's really helping a lot."

There is this man talking to me, telling me that he enjoys the show, enjoys how I die. Enjoys how the slave Daniela behaves.

I ask the man:
"Can I have something to drink? Please give me something to drink."

While I ask this question I notice, that tears are running down my cheeks........:rolleyes:
 
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You are telling it all, Cire! Calling you and Andrea ‘professional criminals’. As if that is a job, just like any others! If you procure yourself a living, by stealing the fruit of decent people’s hard work, then do not complain about bearing the consequences sooner or later!

If you and Andrea had not realized all the time, that you could one day end on a cross, then, were you so ignorant, or so self-complacent?

A successful criminal always behaves arrogant and smugly! ‘Who can do me something, I am smarter than the rest, I do what I want and never get caught!?’

Mind you! Andrea is a typical criminal’s girl! The boldness of a criminal eroticizes! She does not care that he steals, she even helps him! That goes on, as long as he does not get caught! Because then, it is he who fails, not she! You have fallen down in her eyes, because you got caught, and even worse, because she also suffers the consequences! She and you now suffer the humiliations and agony, you had promised that would never, never occur to both of you! The onlookers see it the same way : fallen arrogance. Criminal Cire and his gangster chick dancing naked on a cross!

Even slave Daniela pulls some status from that! She might have been a slave, but she was no criminal!

But we are not inhumane! Give these crucified something to drink!
 
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