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Sarah Fischer’s bout with the law

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Crucifixion is a brutal way to execute a person. In Sarah’s case extra care has been taken to insure her suffering lasts as long as possible before she succumbs to the torture of the cross. Although she was paraded naked to the hill, she did not have to carry her cross. There was no need to have her expend the energy doing so.

She arrives at the hill where the cross waits for her. She resists but Bull and Gunner have little difficulty stretching Sarah’s arms out over the cross. Tree tosses two of the spikes onto the ground and holds the third one over her right wrist. The spike is nine inches (almost 23 cm) long and has a square shank. Each face is three quarters (two CM) wide and only the tip of the spike is polished where the shank forms its point.

Sarah tries to pull away but with one blow of the mallet the spike drives through her wrist and is imbedded into the cross. She gives an animal like scream of agony.
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Tree seems unperturbed by her cry and hammers the spike deep into the wood securing her wrist to cross.

He wastes no time moving to her left wrist. Even knowing what it will feel like Sarah again screams with the shocking pain of the spike tearing through her flesh and scraping the bones in her arm.
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With her arms secure Tree moves to her feet. Bull and Gunner hold her feet one over the other with the bottom foot’s sole flat against the face of the cross. The spikes through Sarah’s wrists were very painful but nothing like the last spike being driven through her feet. She bucked like crazy but with the first blow the spike passed through her feet and secures them to the cross.
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While Sarah howled in pain Tree finished driving the spike into the wood of the stipe.
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Tree stand and wipes the sweat from his face. He looks down at Sarah spread and secured to her cross. He gives her a few moments to catch her breath.

Damn, I knew this was going to hurt but I have never felt such pain! I think the spike broke bones in my feet (it did -Ed.)! What is it going to feel like when they raise the cross and I hang from the spikes?
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The wait is over. Bull and Gunner grab the cross and seemingly effortlessly begin to raise it with me nailed to the front of it. I want to scream but nothing comes out of my mouth.
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-Sarah

Bull and Gunner are large muscular men and have no difficulty raising the cross with Sarah nailed to it. The base of the stipe slides into the hole dug for it before it free-falls and crashes to a stop at the bottom of the hole. At first Sarah hangs motionless as she is stunned by the pain. After a moment or two she looks up.
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What the hell have they done to me?

-Sarah Fischer, crucified
 
My body is stretched between the spikes in my wrists and feet. It is hard to breathe as my chest feels like it is being squeezed in a huge vise. I am not designed to hang naked nailed to a cross. I suppose that is just another part of my torture. I look out at the crowd. Can they really be enjoying seeing me suffer like this?
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I do my best to hold my legs together but it hurts my feet and my hips. If I try to push up with my legs I feel bones snapping in my feet. I have to relieve myself but there are hundreds of people gawking at me as I hang from this damn cross. They are already laughing at my plight.
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I must have been up here for hours. My arms feel like they are going to tear out of my shoulders and my ribs want to part from my sternum. I can’t last much longer.
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-Sarah

Sarah has yet to hang from the cross yet an hour. It will be a long day… or more…
 
When Sarah was raised on the cross, RR Video Productions loaded the front rows with people in old Jewish garbs and actors in Roman soldier outfits. The director would edit Sarah’s crucifixion into a stunningly successful movie without her having any knowledge of what was going on.
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It really didn’t matter. Sarah had no idea what the hell was going on and she would be long dead before the movie came out. It will be released as a docudrama…

This crucifixion thing grows old very quickly… or maybe a long time… I have no idea… I cannot see a clock. I am spread naked between three spikes that are ripping the hell out of my wrists and broken feet. Yes, I can move but it just rearranges my pain. There is no relief.
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There is no way to describe what I am suffering. My arms are stretched by the weight of my body that hangs beneath them. My feet are too shattered to offer any relief and the guards keep the crowd back in case someone might do me the favor of a mercy kill.
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Mercy kills seem to be in short supply here. Let us rejoin Sarah’s ‘problem’…

The sun has passed over my head. It is past noon and the day has warmed enough that I am sweating what little water my body has. The crowd has thinned a bit but there are newcomers that pass in front of me. I suppose they get a good view. I am too tired to even try to hold my legs together. My pussy is completely exposed.

For that matter I am completely exposed. The spikes hold me spread wide on the face of the cross and prevents me from moving very much. My hand, so useful in my life, are worthless vestiges dangling beyond my nailed wrists. My breasts which attracted lovers now feel like heavy weights that bob on my chest with each breath I gasp in.
Tree walks up and looks me over. I whimper in a hoarse voice “Do you like what you see?”

“You decorate the cross very nicely” he admits.

“How long will this last? I am in such pain, but I don’t think I am near death.”

“You’ll last until tomorrow; maybe a day after that” he replies.

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“I can’t take it. I am thirsty” I moan.

-Sarah Fischer, crucified felon
 
Tree is a compassionate guy and sees to it that Sarah gets some water. The water is warm and served on a filthy sponge. Sarah doesn’t care. She sucks it dry!
It is midafternoon and Sarah has been crucified for six hours. The pain does not stop but intensifies. A stream of people come by her cross. Some just watch Sarah as she gyrates in pain but most talk lewdly about her or yell insults to her.

Sarah’s only constant is the nails holding her to the face of the cross.
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A little after three she is visited by Messaline. Messa coos how wonderful Sarah decorates the Premium French Crucifixion Wood™ the cross she donated for the execution. Thoughtlessly she strokes Sarah telling her how beautiful she looks stretched on the cross
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“This damn thing is slowly ripping me apart” I hiss. “And I need to relieve myself!”

“Well, Sarah, I don’t think they will give you a break to use the restroom. You are a condemned felon so you will have to make due while you hang there” Messa scolds.
She leaves and a while later I do relieve myself.

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It is embarrassing to do so before the onlookers and their chants and jeers assure me they noticed me emptying my bowels. I hang here in painful humiliation.
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The hours drag by and new faces come by to see me tortured on the cross.

-Sarah


After noon the price of admission is only five dollars. The spectators are not allowed to bring in coolers so drinks and food are purchased at the vendors’ tents. Some of the people throw condiments at Sarah though the guards kept that to a minimum.
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It is six in the evening and the sun will set soon. Sarah will look out at the fading light.
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She is soon to learn the torment of being crucified at night.
 
The crowd has thinned to non-existing. Sarah still hangs crucified.

I watch the sun set before me. My body, tortured by the cross, the sun, and the mid-afternoon heat feels the cool evening air embrace my flesh and cramp my tormented muscles.
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A single floodlight illuminates my body. I feel no warmth from it. I twitch as my muscles cramp in the cool night air.
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My guts rumble and runny stool blasts between my ass’ cheeks. It hurts but I squeeze my knees together. I don’t want the cameras to see this!
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Boredom… who would have thought boredom could creep into my crucifixion. My body aches anywhere it can and the single floodlight illuminates my body. Yet I am bored. I have no idea what time it is but while I agonize in the pain of being crucified, I want this to be over. I don’t give a damn if that means I die!
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What else could go wrong?

-Sarah


Around three AM Sarah feels the cold drops of rain begin to slap her skin. In agony she yells “Just let me die!”
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She has a way to go before death relieves her pain…
 
... A little after three she is visited by Messaline. Messa coos how wonderful Sarah decorates the Premium French Crucifixion Wood™ the cross she donated for the execution. Thoughtlessly she strokes Sarah telling her how beautiful she looks stretched on the cross ...

... and Messa is thinking that, perhaps she appears yet more beautiful than her , nailed to this wonderful cross ... but she doesn't tell that, lest that Sarah could strut ... and Tree could be approving ! :D
 
The night takes a heavy toll on me. Being crucified is as sadistic way to execute someone that can be thought of. There is the brutal piercing of my wrists and feet by the thick spikes that fix me to the cross. Once the cross is raised the weight of my own body hangs from the spikes. Most of the time it is from the pair in my wrists as the one through my feet has shattered bones within and it is too painful to push up with my legs. I hang mostly from my arms. This stretches my chest making breathing a laborious chore.

The heat of the date was debilitating but the night is worse. The air is brisk and cramps my muscles. A single floodlight illuminates me so the damn cameras can record my slow departure. It provides no warmth to my body and blinds my vision. I hang stretched on the cross in the darkness only more able to feel the painful torture of my body.

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Dawn finally arrives. The cold air has contracted my breasts so my nipples and areolas stand out more so than normal.
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In a few hours it will be a day since they raised me on the cross and Tree has told me it could take two days or more for me to die. In the meantime, I will hang here as my body is tortured by the cross. It may not seem as brutal a punishment to those looking at me hanging from the cross, but they do not realize the torment of my stretched arms and compressed chest. My abdomen is having difficulty pulling in air and it gets worse as I tire from this cross. Below that my stomach is empty. I haven’t eaten since sometime on Thursday and while I have been given water food is denied for me. So the sun is up and I hang from the cross for another day.
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At least the crowd is much smaller today. I guess after first few hours I have become somewhat boring to gawk at. I didn’t see her coming but I hear her say “Well, you look pretty good for hanging up there a day!”

I look down and see Professor Barbara Moore standing beneath my cross.

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“I feel like shit. Tree tells me I won’t die for another day” I reply.

“Well, you are a condemned murderer. It seems to me you are getting what you deserve” Barb says smugly. “With any luck you’ll suffer longer than that before you kick the bucket.”

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This bitch not offering me much sympathy.

-Sarah
 
Saturday is not going well for me. It is another hot day and the sun is baking my naked body. I can even smell my sweat-covered body even though my nose is crusted with snot.
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My ass is covered in my own dried shit. I smell that too but being nailed to the cross prevents me from doing a damn thing about it.
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Half of the vendor stands are gone and of the remaining ones maybe a third are manned. The small crowd seems to be enjoying the adult beverages and sandwiches being sold. I could use a stiff drink and fat sandwich. Neither is going to happen. I just hang on the cross waiting to die.
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If I have to die this way I wish I would have shot the bitch in the belly. That bullet in the heart was far too merciful!

-Sarah
 
“Well, you are a condemned murderer. It seems to me you are getting what you deserve” Barb says smugly. “With any luck you’ll suffer longer than that before you kick the bucket.”
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This bitch not offering me much sympathy.

I do look good in my little black dress, don’t I? :p

I am glad to see I am not the only one to share this opinion....

Sharing the opinion that “bitch” is an appropriate thing to call me is not a healthy thing to do ... :spank: :spank:
 
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