• Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.

Nailing

Go to CruxDreams.com
then it was nails that twisted in Connie's hands,
now it's males she twists round her little finger!​
 
then it was nails that twisted in Connie's hands,
now it's males she twists round her little finger!​
that's why she is a redhaired vixen
 
then it was nails that twisted in Connie's hands,
now it's males she twists round her little finger!​
that's why she is a redhaired vixen
 
I've been thinking about how I would be reacting right after my nailing and my
cross was still laying on the ground with me nailed to it.

I see myself sobbing uncontrollably, struggling and writhing from the pain and
finding it hard to believe that I am actually held to this piece of wood by nails.
I think I would be struggling the most at this point, hoping to somehow get free of my
cross even though it's impossible. I would know that once my cross is raised, any chance
I have would be gone.

I would look around desperately hoping to see a friend or a loved one that could come over
to try to comfort me at least. I would look at my nailed wrists not being able to believe
what I am seeing. But the pain and agony tells me it's real. I would be crying out for help.
"Please please somebody please help me.....please....". I know I did nothing wrong so I would
be trying to make sense of why I am nailed to this cross. I would then realize that my only
crime is being a woman and that these people just wanted to see a woman in anguish, struggling
on a cross....

I would pray. "dear god please help me.....please have mercy on me lord...please I beg you. Please
don't let this happen to me.....please god please.....".

Then a friend would be allowed to come over to me. She kneels down next to me and strokes
my face telling me how sorry she is. I begin to squirm and struggle more, looking up to her and
say "please help me.....oh god please help me please....". She tells me she wishes she could just
as she is grabbed by the arms and dragged away from me. I struggle and cry so hard as I see
that. And then I am alone again with my fear, agony and anguish...

As much pain as I am in, I know it will increase in intensity several fold once my cross is raised.
There is shuffling around me. I know the time has come for my cross to be raised. I struggle
harder on my cross, but the nails hold me tight to the wood. I then feel my cross begin to
rise, and I cry out loudly...."oh god please no....please no......oh god no....."
 
Last edited:
I've been thinking about how I would be reacting right after my nailing and my
cross was still laying on the ground with me nailed to it.

I see myself sobbing uncontrollably, struggling and writhing from the pain and
finding it hard to believe that I am actually held to this piece of wood by nails.
I think I would be struggling the most at this point, hoping to somehow get free of my
cross even though it's impossible. I would know that once my cross is raised, any chance
I have would be gone.

I would look around desperately hoping to see a friend or a loved one that could come over
to try to comfort me at least. I would look at my nailed wrists not being able to believe
what I am seeing. But the pain and agony tells me it's real. I would be crying out for help.
"Please please somebody please help me.....please....". I know I did nothing wrong so I would
be trying to make sense of why I am nailed to this cross. I would then realize that my only
crime is being a woman and that these people just wanted to see a woman in anguish, struggling
on a cross....

I would pray. "dear god please help me.....please have mercy on me lord...please I beg you. Please
don't let this happen to me.....please god please.....".

Then a friend would be allowed to come over to me. She kneels down next to me and strokes
my face telling me how sorry she is. I begin to squirm and struggle more, looking up to her and
say "please help me.....oh god please help me please....". She tells me she wishes she could just
as she is grabbed by the arms and dragged away from me. I struggle and cry so hard as I see
that. And then I am alone again with my fear, agony and anguish...

As much pain as I am in, I know it will increase in intensity several fold once my cross is raised.
There is shuffling around me. I know the time has come for my cross to be raised. I struggle
harder on my cross, but the nails hold me tight to the wood. I then feel my cross begin to
rise, and I cry out loudly...."oh god please no....please no......oh god no....."
Scary, hard to bear for people with empathy.
 
fine writing Danielle - yes, the minutes they let you lie there,
shuddering in your growing awareness of what it means to be nailed,
never to move freely again, feeling the pain surge through you,
knowing it's only the beginning ...
it's an important part of the Torture of Crucifixion,
your Executioners will ensure you suffer it to the limit!​
 
I've been thinking about how I would be reacting right after my nailing and my
cross was still laying on the ground with me nailed to it.

I see myself sobbing uncontrollably, struggling and writhing from the pain and
finding it hard to believe that I am actually held to this piece of wood by nails.
I think I would be struggling the most at this point, hoping to somehow get free of my
cross even though it's impossible. I would know that once my cross is raised, any chance
I have would be gone.

I would look around desperately hoping to see a friend or a loved one that could come over
to try to comfort me at least. I would look at my nailed wrists not being able to believe
what I am seeing. But the pain and agony tells me it's real. I would be crying out for help.
"Please please somebody please help me.....please....". I know I did nothing wrong so I would
be trying to make sense of why I am nailed to this cross. I would then realize that my only
crime is being a woman and that these people just wanted to see a woman in anguish, struggling
on a cross....

I would pray. "dear god please help me.....please have mercy on me lord...please I beg you. Please
don't let this happen to me.....please god please.....".

Then a friend would be allowed to come over to me. She kneels down next to me and strokes
my face telling me how sorry she is. I begin to squirm and struggle more, looking up to her and
say "please help me.....oh god please help me please....". She tells me she wishes she could just
as she is grabbed by the arms and dragged away from me. I struggle and cry so hard as I see
that. And then I am alone again with my fear, agony and anguish...

As much pain as I am in, I know it will increase in intensity several fold once my cross is raised.
There is shuffling around me. I know the time has come for my cross to be raised. I struggle
harder on my cross, but the nails hold me tight to the wood. I then feel my cross begin to
rise, and I cry out loudly...."oh god please no....please no......oh god no....."

Humiliation and compassion ... nice writing!:)
 
A strong account, heartfelt.

I know I did nothing wrong so I would
be trying to make sense of why I am nailed to this cross. I would then realize that my only
crime is being a woman and that these people just wanted to see a woman in anguish, struggling
on a cross....

This is a popular theme, I have noticed. In this case innocence joined with womanhood, you are punished this way because the people need it, want it, and you are available. Your life is theirs, your death also, and joining the two, your harsh suffering for their pleasure.

Then a friend would be allowed to come over to me. She kneels down next to me and strokes
my face telling me how sorry she is. I begin to squirm and struggle more, looking up to her and
say "please help me.....oh god please help me please....". She tells me she wishes she could just
as she is grabbed by the arms and dragged away from me. I struggle and cry so hard as I see
that. And then I am alone again with my fear, agony and anguish...

So cruel. Is it comforting, or even more cruel, to give a little sympathy, a little care like this, and then snatch it away?
Alone, and yet not. the audience is there, the people watch, your suffering is public, and yet you are alone in it. A paradox.

Scary, hard to bear for people with empathy.

True. But then, to empathise may also be to suffer with her. Some may enjoy it, to experience her suffering, to be on the cross not in the crowd.
 
I've been thinking about how I would be reacting right after my nailing and my
cross was still laying on the ground with me nailed to it.

I see myself sobbing uncontrollably, struggling and writhing from the pain and
finding it hard to believe that I am actually held to this piece of wood by nails.
I think I would be struggling the most at this point, hoping to somehow get free of my
cross even though it's impossible. I would know that once my cross is raised, any chance
I have would be gone.

I would look around desperately hoping to see a friend or a loved one that could come over
to try to comfort me at least. I would look at my nailed wrists not being able to believe
what I am seeing. But the pain and agony tells me it's real. I would be crying out for help.
"Please please somebody please help me.....please....". I know I did nothing wrong so I would
be trying to make sense of why I am nailed to this cross. I would then realize that my only
crime is being a woman and that these people just wanted to see a woman in anguish, struggling
on a cross....

I would pray. "dear god please help me.....please have mercy on me lord...please I beg you. Please
don't let this happen to me.....please god please.....".

Then a friend would be allowed to come over to me. She kneels down next to me and strokes
my face telling me how sorry she is. I begin to squirm and struggle more, looking up to her and
say "please help me.....oh god please help me please....". She tells me she wishes she could just
as she is grabbed by the arms and dragged away from me. I struggle and cry so hard as I see
that. And then I am alone again with my fear, agony and anguish...

As much pain as I am in, I know it will increase in intensity several fold once my cross is raised.
There is shuffling around me. I know the time has come for my cross to be raised. I struggle
harder on my cross, but the nails hold me tight to the wood. I then feel my cross begin to
rise, and I cry out loudly...."oh god please no....please no......oh god no....."
I love this, Danielle. It just seems so personal, and you describe the pain, fear and humiliation beautifully. Please write some more!
 
Back
Top Bottom