Bad Boris
Executioner
Hope you like this work. It's been knocking around for a while now...
I enter your chamber, nervous but excited. I plan to submit myself totally to you in the hope you can fulfill my ultimate desire. For so long I have dreamed – nay fantasised – about being suspended on high – to be watched, jeered, humiliated, teased, tortured. I hope I can entertain, provide a spectacle for whoever you choose to witness my ordeal on the cross.
My eyes fall on the structure laid out on the floor; it is fiendish in its simplicity. Just two pieces of wood joined two feet from the top. I notice a series of holes in the long beam and puzzle at what role they could play.
I am ordered to the centre of the chamber and told to strip – naked. There will be no loincloth to spare my modesty. This audience want to see my entire body tormented and to watch how I react to my plight. I peel of my clothing, my boxers dropping to the floor as my dick springs out already semi-erect in anticipation of what lies ahead.
Once naked, cuffs with an eyelet are placed around each wrist I am told to lay on the cross and stretch my arms out along the patibulum. My palms are spread as I look along to my right, then my left, my back hard against the vertical post. Strong arms grabs my right wrist and hold it tight against the wood. I look in horror as a hooded man approaches with a hammer in one hand and nails in another. This is going too far. I start to struggle against the hands gripping my arm but am unable to move. A nail is placed against my wrist and I look up to see the hammer cocked and ready to pound the steel point through me. I flinch, turn my head away then as I fear the worst the nail is moved and pressed into the wood. The hammer swings, missing my outstretched arm by inches and knocks the nail into wood. The eyelet in my wrist cuff is hooked over the nail then the point is bent by another hammer blow and my arm is locked in place. I pull against my bond but there’s to be no escape. The process is repeated on my left arm and they are now spread evenly along the patibulum.
Ropes are now applied along my arms to make sure I am totally bound to the beam. A feeling of helplessness starts to grip me but I look down to see my dick is betraying me as is stands stiffly to attention, pre-cum starting to drool from its tip.
The man with the hammer moves down the vertical beam, spreads my legs and attaches a smaller piece of wood. He then cuffs my ankles loosely, pushes my legs up and positions my feet on the rest. My knees are bent at an awkward angle with just the balls of my feet on the crossbar as Hammerman turns to you.
“He’s ready to be lifted into position now,” he informs you.
I can see a narrow opening in the floor, perfect to take the vertical beam. Your two strong assistants grab the cross and position its base against the small gap. Slowly they start to lift and I feel my body heading upright, held tightly against the wood. I go through 45 degrees and beyond, my arms starting to take the strain as gravity takes its inevitable toll.
As the post goes vertical I feel the cross drop into its resting place, jolting my body as it finds the ground. My feet struggle to grip the footrest then I feel relief in my strained arms as they find their mark.
Despite the multiple windings of thick rope around my biceps, the pain in my arms increases as they start to take some of the weight. I stand up on my toes to try to decrease the strain, but it is pointless. Then I look down and see my erection has refused to subside – in fact I’ve got the most incredible hard on.
The rough wood rubs on my back and I feel as if I am on display in my own pornographic snuff performance. The assembled audience are transfixed by the spectacle. They watch my every movement as I struggle to find any footing,
As I "dance," your assistants mock and laugh at my predicament. Is it pointless to ask for mercy especially when I’m sporting an angry eight-inch boner in full view of my audience.
After a brief struggle for what passes as comfort, I see you beckon to your assistants once again. They approach the crux, grab my legs and bend them at an a 45-degree angle so my heels lay flat against the right side of the stipes. I cannot close my legs to hide or protect my genitals, or my ass.
As my groin is exposed, I feel movement beneath me. Now I know why the vertical beam is punctuated by holes as my crucem subdas slides through the wood and between my legs. I feel the greased-up tip slide underneath and press into my asshole. The assistant then hammers the phallic peg into the hole. My extra support is now in place. I close my legs and feel the tapered dickhead tickle my anus as I fight for balance on the footboard. I look across at you and your smiling cohort and know now why the footrest is fragile. Lose my footing and I’ll be fucked by the dildo protruding from the cross.
My dick fails to sympathise with my predicament. Through my haze I see my aching tool drool a continuous stream of precum. I can see light glisten in the drop at the very end of the stream as it gradually makes its descent toward the ground. Utter humiliation.
“Awwww bless,” you sneer. “Such a handsome erection and nothing to help you relieve yourself. Perhaps you’d like to ride on that dick protruding at the entrance to your asshole. One slip on your footrest and your virgin ass will be well and truly speared.”
A malevolent grin appears on your face. I look down and continue to push myself up on the balls of my feet, the tip of the cornu reminding me what awaits should I relax. Your assistant gives you a cunning smile then, as you nod, starts to move towards me. He reaches up and strokes my nipples which spring erect. He pinches them hard then attaches nipple clamps with weights that pull at my tender buds. My boner lurches upwards again at the attention given to my pleasure points, provoking smirks from the attendees in your chamber.
Your assistant moves back to admire his handiwork then looks back at you. “Shall I proceed with the next stage, Mistress?” he asks. A look of bewilderment slides across my face as you nod. What next? How much more can I take?
The assistant moves to my foot rest and begins to make an adjustment. I feel my right foot slip slightly and adjust to my left; he’s loosened the bar. Only by balancing will I be spared impalement on the cornu. I look out at you in fear as my feet do an unnatural jig on their fragile rest. All I get back is an evil smile and a look of satisfaction.
My right foot slips again and I feel the phalus press the opening of my hole. My dick bobs again as I feel the pressure but I regain my balance and my ass remains virgin – for the time being.
“How’s it feel Boris,” you ask. “Your swollen dick certainly seems to be enjoying your predicament. Would it like a little attention?”
I nod hesitantly. My balls ache to cum; I know it will only take the slightest attention to get me off. I crave to be enveloped by your hot, warm mouth – to feel your tongue run over my swollen glans as I orgasm. I allow my mind to drift momentarily but am brought back to reality as you snap your fingers and your burly assistant steps forward. He reaches round to the cornu and I feel it start to vibrate slowly against my puckered asshole, looking to worm it’s way inside. The sensations course through my body. Just the slightest attention and I’ll cum. He then reaches round and grips my shaft in his right fist and tugs on my swollen dick. This is not what I had in mind but my need to orgasm overwhelms me. As he works his hand up and down my length slowly, my hips start to buck and I lose focus on my balancing act. The dildo starts to open my ass up as I struggle to concentrate on anything other than the pleasure building in my balls.
The assistant tugs rhythmically on my erection and inevitably my almost vertical cock explodes. Rope after long, thick, creamy white rope of cum shoots out of my painfully hard dick across the chamber. At my moment of climax, my right foot gives way and I’m impaled by the vibrating phalus. I groan loudly at the combination of sensations wracking my body. I feel the pressure in my tight hole and fight to get my footing back. I find some purchase and push myself up on the balls of my feet but the artificial dick continues to vibrate in my tight hole.
Momentarily I bathe in the afterglow of my orgasm then I’m snapped back to life by your voice. “Look at the mess you’ve made you worthless piece of dirt,” you say pointing at the pool of sum on the floor. “Ordinarily you’d be made to lick it up but as you’re otherwise occupied we may need an alternative plan.”
She beckons to the assistant who aided my orgasm. “I’m sure he’s thirsty after that little performance. Give him a little drink.”
The assistant wipes my cum off the floor then holds the stained cloth to my lips, rubbing my seed across my face. “Lick it all up,” you command and I hesitantly lap up by own spunk as I try to push up from the cornu penetrating my asshole.
“Now it’s time to complete the look,” you sneer. “All you need is your very own crown of thorns.”
I look and see you approach. You stroke my dick which is now only semi-erect for the first time since my ordeal began. You cup my balls in one hand then from behind your back you produce a string of thorns. I now know this will not be a crown for my head, but for my cock.
You wrap it around the base of my shaft tightly, the thorns digging into my semi-hard flesh and scratching my ball sac. Now I know why you’ve chosen this moment. My cock starts to swell inevitably at your touch and the feeling in my ass, the cruel barbs pricking my tender flesh. The more I swell, the greater my discomfort.
You look into my eyes, your work complete for now. I stare out at my audience, feeling my humiliation rise. My face is stained by my own cum, my dick is decorated by a cockring of thorns and a dildo vibrates in my ass as I hang helpless from my bonds. How long will my ordeal continue? I am totally at your mercy.
“Hopefully this will teach this wretch to stain my chamber with his seed. Let’s leave this worthless slut to his torment.”
With that, you kick my footrest once again and I slump deeper onto the cornu, feeling it penetrate deeply and my dick swell again, the thorns tearing at my tender flesh. My torment is complete – or is it just beginning?
I enter your chamber, nervous but excited. I plan to submit myself totally to you in the hope you can fulfill my ultimate desire. For so long I have dreamed – nay fantasised – about being suspended on high – to be watched, jeered, humiliated, teased, tortured. I hope I can entertain, provide a spectacle for whoever you choose to witness my ordeal on the cross.
My eyes fall on the structure laid out on the floor; it is fiendish in its simplicity. Just two pieces of wood joined two feet from the top. I notice a series of holes in the long beam and puzzle at what role they could play.
I am ordered to the centre of the chamber and told to strip – naked. There will be no loincloth to spare my modesty. This audience want to see my entire body tormented and to watch how I react to my plight. I peel of my clothing, my boxers dropping to the floor as my dick springs out already semi-erect in anticipation of what lies ahead.
Once naked, cuffs with an eyelet are placed around each wrist I am told to lay on the cross and stretch my arms out along the patibulum. My palms are spread as I look along to my right, then my left, my back hard against the vertical post. Strong arms grabs my right wrist and hold it tight against the wood. I look in horror as a hooded man approaches with a hammer in one hand and nails in another. This is going too far. I start to struggle against the hands gripping my arm but am unable to move. A nail is placed against my wrist and I look up to see the hammer cocked and ready to pound the steel point through me. I flinch, turn my head away then as I fear the worst the nail is moved and pressed into the wood. The hammer swings, missing my outstretched arm by inches and knocks the nail into wood. The eyelet in my wrist cuff is hooked over the nail then the point is bent by another hammer blow and my arm is locked in place. I pull against my bond but there’s to be no escape. The process is repeated on my left arm and they are now spread evenly along the patibulum.
Ropes are now applied along my arms to make sure I am totally bound to the beam. A feeling of helplessness starts to grip me but I look down to see my dick is betraying me as is stands stiffly to attention, pre-cum starting to drool from its tip.
The man with the hammer moves down the vertical beam, spreads my legs and attaches a smaller piece of wood. He then cuffs my ankles loosely, pushes my legs up and positions my feet on the rest. My knees are bent at an awkward angle with just the balls of my feet on the crossbar as Hammerman turns to you.
“He’s ready to be lifted into position now,” he informs you.
I can see a narrow opening in the floor, perfect to take the vertical beam. Your two strong assistants grab the cross and position its base against the small gap. Slowly they start to lift and I feel my body heading upright, held tightly against the wood. I go through 45 degrees and beyond, my arms starting to take the strain as gravity takes its inevitable toll.
As the post goes vertical I feel the cross drop into its resting place, jolting my body as it finds the ground. My feet struggle to grip the footrest then I feel relief in my strained arms as they find their mark.
Despite the multiple windings of thick rope around my biceps, the pain in my arms increases as they start to take some of the weight. I stand up on my toes to try to decrease the strain, but it is pointless. Then I look down and see my erection has refused to subside – in fact I’ve got the most incredible hard on.
The rough wood rubs on my back and I feel as if I am on display in my own pornographic snuff performance. The assembled audience are transfixed by the spectacle. They watch my every movement as I struggle to find any footing,
As I "dance," your assistants mock and laugh at my predicament. Is it pointless to ask for mercy especially when I’m sporting an angry eight-inch boner in full view of my audience.
After a brief struggle for what passes as comfort, I see you beckon to your assistants once again. They approach the crux, grab my legs and bend them at an a 45-degree angle so my heels lay flat against the right side of the stipes. I cannot close my legs to hide or protect my genitals, or my ass.
As my groin is exposed, I feel movement beneath me. Now I know why the vertical beam is punctuated by holes as my crucem subdas slides through the wood and between my legs. I feel the greased-up tip slide underneath and press into my asshole. The assistant then hammers the phallic peg into the hole. My extra support is now in place. I close my legs and feel the tapered dickhead tickle my anus as I fight for balance on the footboard. I look across at you and your smiling cohort and know now why the footrest is fragile. Lose my footing and I’ll be fucked by the dildo protruding from the cross.
My dick fails to sympathise with my predicament. Through my haze I see my aching tool drool a continuous stream of precum. I can see light glisten in the drop at the very end of the stream as it gradually makes its descent toward the ground. Utter humiliation.
“Awwww bless,” you sneer. “Such a handsome erection and nothing to help you relieve yourself. Perhaps you’d like to ride on that dick protruding at the entrance to your asshole. One slip on your footrest and your virgin ass will be well and truly speared.”
A malevolent grin appears on your face. I look down and continue to push myself up on the balls of my feet, the tip of the cornu reminding me what awaits should I relax. Your assistant gives you a cunning smile then, as you nod, starts to move towards me. He reaches up and strokes my nipples which spring erect. He pinches them hard then attaches nipple clamps with weights that pull at my tender buds. My boner lurches upwards again at the attention given to my pleasure points, provoking smirks from the attendees in your chamber.
Your assistant moves back to admire his handiwork then looks back at you. “Shall I proceed with the next stage, Mistress?” he asks. A look of bewilderment slides across my face as you nod. What next? How much more can I take?
The assistant moves to my foot rest and begins to make an adjustment. I feel my right foot slip slightly and adjust to my left; he’s loosened the bar. Only by balancing will I be spared impalement on the cornu. I look out at you in fear as my feet do an unnatural jig on their fragile rest. All I get back is an evil smile and a look of satisfaction.
My right foot slips again and I feel the phalus press the opening of my hole. My dick bobs again as I feel the pressure but I regain my balance and my ass remains virgin – for the time being.
“How’s it feel Boris,” you ask. “Your swollen dick certainly seems to be enjoying your predicament. Would it like a little attention?”
I nod hesitantly. My balls ache to cum; I know it will only take the slightest attention to get me off. I crave to be enveloped by your hot, warm mouth – to feel your tongue run over my swollen glans as I orgasm. I allow my mind to drift momentarily but am brought back to reality as you snap your fingers and your burly assistant steps forward. He reaches round to the cornu and I feel it start to vibrate slowly against my puckered asshole, looking to worm it’s way inside. The sensations course through my body. Just the slightest attention and I’ll cum. He then reaches round and grips my shaft in his right fist and tugs on my swollen dick. This is not what I had in mind but my need to orgasm overwhelms me. As he works his hand up and down my length slowly, my hips start to buck and I lose focus on my balancing act. The dildo starts to open my ass up as I struggle to concentrate on anything other than the pleasure building in my balls.
The assistant tugs rhythmically on my erection and inevitably my almost vertical cock explodes. Rope after long, thick, creamy white rope of cum shoots out of my painfully hard dick across the chamber. At my moment of climax, my right foot gives way and I’m impaled by the vibrating phalus. I groan loudly at the combination of sensations wracking my body. I feel the pressure in my tight hole and fight to get my footing back. I find some purchase and push myself up on the balls of my feet but the artificial dick continues to vibrate in my tight hole.
Momentarily I bathe in the afterglow of my orgasm then I’m snapped back to life by your voice. “Look at the mess you’ve made you worthless piece of dirt,” you say pointing at the pool of sum on the floor. “Ordinarily you’d be made to lick it up but as you’re otherwise occupied we may need an alternative plan.”
She beckons to the assistant who aided my orgasm. “I’m sure he’s thirsty after that little performance. Give him a little drink.”
The assistant wipes my cum off the floor then holds the stained cloth to my lips, rubbing my seed across my face. “Lick it all up,” you command and I hesitantly lap up by own spunk as I try to push up from the cornu penetrating my asshole.
“Now it’s time to complete the look,” you sneer. “All you need is your very own crown of thorns.”
I look and see you approach. You stroke my dick which is now only semi-erect for the first time since my ordeal began. You cup my balls in one hand then from behind your back you produce a string of thorns. I now know this will not be a crown for my head, but for my cock.
You wrap it around the base of my shaft tightly, the thorns digging into my semi-hard flesh and scratching my ball sac. Now I know why you’ve chosen this moment. My cock starts to swell inevitably at your touch and the feeling in my ass, the cruel barbs pricking my tender flesh. The more I swell, the greater my discomfort.
You look into my eyes, your work complete for now. I stare out at my audience, feeling my humiliation rise. My face is stained by my own cum, my dick is decorated by a cockring of thorns and a dildo vibrates in my ass as I hang helpless from my bonds. How long will my ordeal continue? I am totally at your mercy.
“Hopefully this will teach this wretch to stain my chamber with his seed. Let’s leave this worthless slut to his torment.”
With that, you kick my footrest once again and I slump deeper onto the cornu, feeling it penetrate deeply and my dick swell again, the thorns tearing at my tender flesh. My torment is complete – or is it just beginning?
