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Some Sketches

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What would those two men have done to me? Oh my! Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh!

I might swing by the execution place again today, I can't get that woman we saw out of my mind, the one who was excited by the crucifixion yesterday. She might come back, she was clearly interested, clearly aroused by what she saw. I could sense it.

Pity Rufus and I lost her the first time. Not so innocent, she looked hot and ready to go, we could have taken her to an alley and had a nice time together. Dress pulled up, on her knees, Rufus would have taken her in the mouth, and he would have been welcome to it. I like the feel of a soft warm arse against my bare skin, her pussy already wet as I found my way inside, so hard after watching that poor suffering crucified slut. She would have given us both a great time and had a little fun herself.

But you know, I think it was the crucifixion itself that aroused her. I wonder, if I met her again, would she be ready to play a . . . harder . . . game with me?
 
Today one Agnes from Judaea, a mid-aged widow from an aristocratic family, went to the camp with two maids and some six armed men to discuss the matter of her heirdom with the consul. The Romans were no more as stupid as in Boudicca's case and after killing her bodyguards and the scourging of the three they preventively crucified the naive woman, pretending to be a ruler, exposing her full nudity to her folk, knowing well that there is no worse humiliation for any Jew and especially for any Jewish woman to be forcibly stripped naked and sexually abused in public. Her maids accompanied her in her humiliation and torment (of course no one asked them if they want to). On the blushing face of the freshly raped and hanged wanna-be queen one can see the disbelief and anger mixed with fear, despair and pain and with the deepest shame, breakdown and sorrow. Of course, now she is sorry for bothering the consul with her dreams. Too late...
 

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You're not alone. Sisters in fate will accompany you till the last breath.


1573952217493.jpeg

I adore this angle. Three women being fucked into eternity by Rome. We know the cornu is up their asses, but the actual penetration is just barely hidden.

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First, I love the short ponytail and perky nipples on the woman closest to us. She and the “queen” in the middle are taking a short break from their lovers, but they don’t need to worry. The cross will still be hard and erect when they’re ready to let the horns slide back inside them.

Contrast them with the woman farthest back. She is clearly a mother, with her fuller, saggier breasts, darker nipples and wider areolae, and a bit fleshier tummy. She may not have the strength to pull away from the cross, and in any case she has probably been penetrated more than the others.

Great work, Andy!
 
View attachment 777486

I adore this angle. Three women being fucked into eternity by Rome. We know the cornu is up their asses, but the actual penetration is just barely hidden.

View attachment 777487

First, I love the short ponytail and perky nipples on the woman closest to us. She and the “queen” in the middle are taking a short break from their lovers, but they don’t need to worry. The cross will still be hard and erect when they’re ready to let the horns slide back inside them.

Contrast them with the woman farthest back. She is clearly a mother, with her fuller, saggier breasts, darker nipples and wider areolae, and a bit fleshier tummy. She may not have the strength to pull away from the cross, and in any case she has probably been penetrated more than the others.

Great work, Andy!
Imagine when they were first trying so hard to resist the horror of that spike! Their muscles trembling with fatigue, the panic of the inevitable growing by the second.
 
Seven nails hammered into the most fragile tissues : a copious bloodflow and an inexorable pain.

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Her crime must have been something directly related to her femininity. While most crucifixions have an implied sexual component, hers is obvious. Nailed facing the cross, mocking the consensual union when a woman straddles her man. The nails through her breasts, emphasizing and punishing her for being a woman. The nail tearing at her womanhood every time she wiggles or moves on the cross.
 
Imagine when they were first trying so hard to resist the horror of that spike! Their muscles trembling with fatigue, the panic of the inevitable growing by the second.


They probably twisted their bodies into all kinds of positions to avoid that spike, but in the end, fatigue and their feminine weakness always wins. What an amazing sight to watch them start to take the spike up their asses! I bet their eyes went wide and they screamed and tried to lower themselves as slowly as possible.
 
They probably twisted their bodies into all kinds of positions to avoid that spike, but in the end, fatigue and their feminine weakness always wins. What an amazing sight to watch them start to take the spike up their asses! I bet their eyes went wide and they screamed and tried to lower themselves as slowly as possible.
God yes! It's those little details.

The sounds of crucifixion in particular are something that gets a little neglected.

Some of these sketches are so dynamic you can imagine the noises they might be making.

The total opposite of CGI that can seem so realistic yet so sterile at times.
 
Long, long ago, before the real cross was invented, three women were hanged on the cursed trees.
They were probably innocent but the murder was committed in a village and someone must be sentenced to death as guilty.
These three lived together in the forest with no man and this only increases the suspicions. Some false accusations were made and quickly three female bodies were hanging together fixed to the tree trunks.
To make sure that they would not be able to escape their fate, they've been nailed to the wood. To fulfill the law they're stripped naked as condemned women often should be.
And to be sure that their death wouldn't come too quick and that their torment would be as humiliating as possible, they were hanged on the very low level to allow them being raped and sharp poles were pushed into their arses, making being raped each time extremely painful process.
 

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Soon . . . back at her place . . .

View attachment 776541 Uhhh, uhhh, uhh! Almost there! No, wait . . .slow down, not so quick. Enjoy it. Back off . . . then feel the pleasure build again. By the gods, what aroused me so? That poor girl! Why? Why do I feel like this. I can see myself in her place . . . stretched out, naked, nailed! Everyone looking at me! A crucified bitch! Oh! Oh! Oh!!!!!!!!!!!

What would those two men have done to me? Oh my! Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh!

Oh, Marcella, what a fucking wicked cunt you are! Perhaps I should go again when a woman is being crucified. Perhaps . . . .

(Her urges relieved, she rolls over, curls up and sleeps . . . perchance to dream . . .)

(Marcella is dreaming.)

She's walking down a long dusty road, enveloped in a heavy fog, going—where? She doesn’t know. She can only see a few yards in front of herself or in any other direction around her. Behind her the fog is impenetrable; in front it appears brighter, as though clearing and drawing her forward. She’s heading towards—what? What is her destination?

Marcella’s long dark hair is undone and streams behind her, as does her loosely fitted tunic. She looks down and sees the sheer fabric adhering to the contours of her breasts, belly and thighs as she walks along. Yet there is no breeze, the air is still. The fabric caressing her breasts brushes against her nipples as it flows around her causing a most pleasurable tingling sensation and a sudden tissue tumescence. Warmth spreads through her loins accompanying a growing wetness in her vagina. Her heart beats faster as her arousal builds. She’s a young woman, 19 years old, a virgin, so these strong sexual urges and her body’s physical responses are well known to her. But the feelings—though undeniably pleasurable—are somehow different as they impel her along the road through the uniform gloom of this mysterious fog.

How long has she been walking? There seems to be no time here, just the oppressive monotony of this damn gloom! Worry creeps in, then a growing unease in the pit of her stomach. She stops in the road, suddenly afraid of what lies ahead. The dense murkiness seems to close in, enveloping and suffocating her. She struggles to breathe, feeling dizzy, as her hair and tunic billow around. Now she’s terrified of what awaits her. Is she headed towards danger, maybe even her death? Or is she already dead and walking into Hades? If so, why is she so sexually aroused? Breathing heavily and feeling the sexual heat rising in her, she cups a breast with one hand and pinches its tender, swollen nipple. Pleasure radiates out from the sensitive tissue, making her legs go rubbery. Her other hand goes to between her legs, pressing into her hot, wet pussy. Her heart races and mouth goes dry as waves of nearly orgasmic pleasure flow through her. What the fuck is happening here?

Sensing extreme danger ahead, Marcella spins around and begins running back the way she came. Why was her body urging her down this road? It can’t be good for her. Something is terribly wrong here! She must go back! But back to where? She has no idea why she's on this road much less where she came from. She only runs a short way before stopping in her tracks when she sees the fog that was behind her before now turning a dark, threatening gray. Thunder rumbles and the air grows bitter cold. She begins to shiver in the light fabric of her tunic. She crosses her arms over her chest trying to stay warm. She realizes she can’t go back; she fears the dark and freezing to death. She can only go forward to an unknown future that both terrifies and entices her with an intense, aching longing.

She turns again and sees the fog brightening in the direction she had been walking, indicating that this is direction she should travel. As Marcella proceeds in her original direction the oppressive fog clears around her. Her sense of dread lessens though her body remains on fire with a sexual tension like she’s never known. Strange. When she's filled with sexual urges she’s always thinking of men. Men she finds handsome and virile, or sweet boys her own age whose sleekly muscled bodies make her go limp and burn with passion. She’s still a virgin, never been fucked, so all her sexual energy is focused on what that must be like, what it must feel like to have a man enter her and fuck her. Her masturbatory fantasies are filled with such thoughts. Yet now, though she’s filled with intense longings, it’s not for a man. She’s on fire for something else. Not a woman either. For an experience—that’s it! Something that terrifies her yet entices her to experience. What is it? She’ll find out at the end of this road. Marcella begins to run, fearful yet anxious to meet what awaits her. She runs and runs toward it.
 
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(Marcella's dream continues.)

In a blink Marcella finds herself standing in bright sunshine under a cloudless sky. Rough, stony ground is under her bare feet. A town is in the distance. The surrounding hills are covered with grass and dotted with trees. The sun beats down on her head; she’s hot and begins to perspire. She hears groaning sounds of someone in great pain. Looking around she sees a cross on which hangs a naked, crucified girl.

IPLSIECAN01_IRA4225_parter_2553_001.jpg t’s the young woman she saw at the crucifixion site. Why is she back here, at this dreadful place of pain and death? She should be safe at her home, in her bed! The crucified girl’s body is covered with sweat. Blood trickles down her arms from her nailed wrists and down from the nails through her feet. Her thighs are spread apart exposing her most intimate parts. The crucified girl screams as she tries to move on the cross. Her body shudders in agony as her raw flesh pushes and pulls against the nails. Her full breasts sway and bounce on her chest as she pushes herself up only to suddenly drop down to hang from her outstretched arms. Marcella looks away, unable to look at the wretched girl suffering so horribly.

As she does, she sees a crossbeam lying on the ground in front of an upright set into the stony ground. Nails—huge fucking nails—lie on the ground by the crossbeam. She’s terrified looking at the ugly objects meant to bear the body of some poor condemned person. But who? Then other people begin appearing nearby. Both men and women. They look at her. She feels drawn forward, toward the crossbeam, her body seemingly moving against her will. Why? The dreadful thing terrifies her, yet she approaches close even as she hears the crucified girl groaning in agony. She turns to see the girl’s body hanging on her cross. Her arms are stretched out, her muscles straining. She’s in utter agony and humiliation with her legs spread and pussy exposed to the people standing around her cross. Though disgusted by the sight she finds the poor girl’s body enticingly beautiful as she hangs on the cross. There’s a beauty is being so fully exposed, unable to hide one’s nakedness. Marcella wonders what it’s like to be nailed to a cross like the girl is, to be elevated in the air looking over the heads of the spectators as they watch you suffer. The image of the girl on the cross intensives the longing Marcella feels. A longing to be . . . to be . . . to be crucified herself!

Marcella’s gaze returns to the crossbeam on the ground. Her body longs to feel what it’s like to stretch her arms across it. To feel the nails pressed into her wrists. It’s an intense longing, making her pussy feel even wetter. But that’s fucking crazy! She shakes her head as if to pull herself out of spell. Who would ever want to do that?

hoping_to_be_roped.jpg Then she hears a male voice. A man is standing nearby the crossbeam along with a soldier holding a hammer. The man is ordering her to take off her clothing. She blushes at his insane request and refuses. Yet, yet she wants to. For some insane reason she wants to strip off her clothes! He orders her again and Marcella quickly complies, pulling the flimsy tunic off her shoulders, then over her breasts and down over her hips. She steps out of the tunic and drops it onto the ground leaving it piled up on the ground next to her. She stands naked in front of all the people staring at her. Then she hers an order to lie down on the cross.

This must be it! This is what she was being led towards. What her body desired more than anything. She wants to know what it feels like to be crucified! She longs to know what a woman feels hanging on a cross. But that’s fucking crazy! She’d be nailed through her wrist and feet, suffering the horrible agonies the other young woman was suffering. Her body would be exposed to the curious spectators as they abused her throughout her sufferings. Still, still, the overwhelming urge to experience it is forcing her to comply with the man’s order.

PLSIECAN01_IRA4225_parter_2340_001.jpg PLSIECAN01_IRA4225_parter_2340_002.jpg Marcella kneels down on the ground near the crossbeam. Her body is trembling looking at the huge nails that will be pounded through her body. She is fully terrified of what is about to happen.

PLSIECAN01_IRA4225_parter_2340_003.jpg She falls forward to the ground and crawls towards the crossbeam.

PLSIECAN01_IRA4225_parter_2340_004.jpg Marcella rolls over, crying in fear and longing as she stretches out first one arm then the next to the hard wood.

PLSIECAN01_IRA4225_parter_2073_005.jpg They are on her in an instant. A man holds her wrist to the wood and she feels the sharp point of the nail pressing into her flesh. His hammer rises and falls driving the nail through her wrist and into the wood. She howls in agony as the huge square nail is fixed securely into the wood. She looks over to see the large round nail head pressing firmly against her pierced wrist. Then her other arm is grabbed. It’s pulled to the wood and nailed like the first.
 
(Still dreaming!)

PLSIECAN01_IRA4225_parter_2073_006.jpg Marcella is now nailed to the crossbeam! She screams in agony as she looks side to side and then down her body between her heaving breasts and belly to her pubic mound. A man appears between her thighs. His cock is erect and throbbing. She realizes that a virgin cannot be crucified, so she understands why she's about to be raped, though she expects she'd be raped virgin or not. Men just seem to like raping women about to be hanged on a cross. The man plunges his cock into and out of her vagina. She has never had sex so she can only imagine what it would feel like—an awful tearing, filling sensation between her legs, painful and humiliating.

IMG_20190910_221733.jpg He pulls out and leaves her sobbing on the ground. Then Marcella hears a voice behind her. She arches her head back to see her mother standing there, hands on hips staring down at her! What is she doing here? Why is she here to see me crucified? Her mother scowls at her, telling her that she always knew this would happen to her. That she was a bad daughter who she knew would come to bad end. That she was some sort of perverted creature for wanting to experience such a thing as crucifixion. Marcella tries to explain her needs but her mother vanishes. Marcella thinks it is just as well not to have her mother present at her crucifixion. She would never understand.

PLSIECAN01_IRA4225_parter_2553_001.jpg Marcella cries uncontrollably as she feels her crossbeam being lifted up. She’s standing with her back to the crossbeam. She creams in agony as she pulled upon the upright. Quickly her feet are nailed and she hangs fully crucified! She imagines she looks much like the girl hanging on the other cross, the one who was already crucified when she arrived. After all, they are very nearly the same age. She looks up at her nailed wrists and down at her nailed feet. She doesn't even try to keep her legs closed. Though she feels shame at being nailed naked to a cross, she can do nothing about it. She relaxes her legs and lets everyone see what they come a crucifixion to see.

She hangs in agony, looking out over the crowd, as she imagines it would always be. She struggles on the cross. What a sensation! Naked, stretched out and straining. She feels horny and wishes she could have an orgasm. She tries squeezing her thighs together to stimulate herself, but it's too hard when her legs naturally want to spread apart. The crowd gathers around her cross. She tries to give them a good show. She hears them making crude comments about her pussy, about her breasts that thrust forward when she pushes and tremble on her chest when she hangs down. She pisses when she has to. Her first pee is quite strong. By pushing her hips forward she makes a nice arc of the water as it splashes down to the ground. For some strange reason she seems proud of her accomplishment. The crowd seems to enjoy it too.

IMG_20190909_120136.jpg Later in the day Marcella hears another voice she recognizes. The crowd is gone and she sees only her sister, Thessela, standing in front of her cross. Her arms are crossed under her breasts and she looks at her with scorn and disapproval on her face. Marcella tries to speak with her, to make her understand why she had to do this, but she has no voice. When she looks for her sister again she is gone. Well, Marcella thinks, she was always her parent's favorite. The fucking perfect daughter that she never was. Well, fuck her!

PLSIECAN01_IRA4225_parter_2035_001 (002).jpg She hangs throughout the day, enduring the heat and pain and the unwelcomed attention of the crowd. She's not ashamed anymore but proud of her body. Proud that people like looking up at her. She always knew she had a great pair of tits, a slender figure and a beautiful pussy. She likes sticking her tits out and spreading her legs. It makes the men crazy, and some of the women too. The men in the crowd will never have her, will never fuck her. In the afternoon a thunderstorm rolls through, stinging her skin with the cold, wind-driven drops.

Zdjęcie-1592.jpg It’s evening now. She’s been crucified for hours. Her body hangs in exhaustion as she sees the sun set. Her intense physical longing to experience crucifixion remains with her. She is unsatisfied. She pushes up one final time. Her body arches out from the cross as fearful stresses push her toward, toward . . .

Marcella suddenly awakes and sits up in her bed. Her naked body is covered with sweat. It’s evening and a cool breeze is coming in through the window. She falls back, exhausted. She is trembling with unrelieved sexual energy. She spreads her legs and she furiously masturbates, bringing herself to a full, powerful orgasm that leaves her exhausted and sexually spent. She quickly falls back asleep and dreams again.

A4F76667-157D-4B15-8169-D87096FD25C0.jpeg.jpg Again she sees herself crucified, hanging on a cross, her muscles stretched and bunched in agony. But this time there is a smile on her face. She’s enjoying this! Really fucking enjoying the unbearable sensations of crucifixion. Oh, if this could only last forever!

She wakes again, again extremely horny. She masturbates again. This time she falls into a dreamless sleep. She awakes with the sun streaming through the window. She stretches her tired muscles. She plans to go to the baths to refresh and clean herself. Life must go on. Her dreams are still vivid in her mind.

She’ll definitely go to the next execution when women are to be crucified. She wants to see them. But she’ll be careful. Maybe take a knife with her for protection from any men who might have the thought to assault her.
 
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Long, long ago, when the real cross was not invented yet, three women (a mother, a daughter and a stray orphan they took few years ago) were hanged on the damned trees for poisoning a fourth woman - a rich landowner herself. They were in fact innocent but they lived in a lonely hut in the forest, far from other people, they look and talk slightly strange, and they were suspected earlier for witchcraft although never caught in an act. For the lawyers it was enough: they could found no better victims and someone MUST be punished for such a crime. Of course, they could crucify all hundred slaves of a late landlord, but one of the lawyers daughter was married to the heir of the rich lady and he preferred to get the slaves alive.

Women were tortured, sentenced and hanged on the three columns of a crux simplex, unclothed as required by a law, mercilessly nailed to the wood in order to not escape, and impaled with sharp poles pushed in arses to prolong their agony and to expose their genitals properly, because they were hanged at the ground level to allow any possible sexual abusement to them. It pleased much of hundreds of city beggars, vagabonds and half-wild forest workers. The mother was raped by more then four hundred of them till she died three days ago. Her daughter resisted nearly five hundred fucks and dies half a day later. But the most attractive (although rather small-breasted) young orphan lived full five days and her delicate, sweet, beautiful cunt was impaled by her fans cocks more than a thousand times, thus making her the biggest living fresh sperm bank in a world. And she was remembered long years as the most obedient victim and a wonderful lover, because often hanging with her legs kept tightly together, she pleaded for mercy every time she saw the man preparing for raping her, but when ignored, she spreaded her knees and allowed the raper in, resisting no more.
 

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Long, long ago, before the real cross was invented, three women were hanged on the cursed trees.
They were probably innocent but the murder was committed in a village and someone must be sentenced to death as guilty.
These three lived together in the forest with no man and this only increases the suspicions. Some false accusations were made and quickly three female bodies were hanging together fixed to the tree trunks.
To make sure that they would not be able to escape their fate, they've been nailed to the wood. To fulfill the law they're stripped naked as condemned women often should be.
And to be sure that their death wouldn't come too quick and that their torment would be as humiliating as possible, they were hanged on the very low level to allow them being raped and sharp poles were pushed into their arses, making being raped each time extremely painful process.
I guaranteee you that is how the majority of crucifictions were done. There are trees everywhere and you only have to lop off a low branch to sculpt that terrible cornu. No digging. No expensive timber (who carries that around anyway?)

Its also the easiest to recreate and the easiest to sustain long enough to have some fun fun fun
 
Its also so practical.

Hands tied in front, dragged to the terrible tree.

Theres no resisting having those wrist bonds hooked over another branch, or the rope thrown over one and hoisted up. One person could actually crucify a victim by this method. Especially a woman.

Plus you get to bind them first in a carefully tuned position, before applying nails at tyour leisure.

Nice work Andyman
 
(Still dreaming!)

View attachment 777685 Marcella is now nailed to the crossbeam! She screams in agony as she looks side to side and then down her body between her heaving breasts and belly to her pubic mound. A man appears between her thighs. His cock is erect and throbbing. She realizes that a virgin cannot be crucified, so she understands why she's about to be raped, though she expects she'd be raped virgin or not. Men just seem to like raping women about to be hanged on a cross. The man plunges his cock into and out of her vagina. She has never had sex so she can only imagine what it would feel like—an awful tearing, filling sensation between her legs, painful and humiliating.

View attachment 777683 He pulls out and leaves her sobbing on the ground. Then Marcella hears a voice behind her. She arches her head back to see her mother standing there, hands on hips staring down at her! What is she doing here? Why is she here to see me crucified? Her mother scowls at her, telling her that she always knew this would happen to her. That she was a bad daughter who she knew would come to bad end. That she was some sort of perverted creature for wanting to experience such a thing as crucifixion. Marcella tries to explain her needs but her mother vanishes. Marcella thinks it is just as well not to have her mother present at her crucifixion. She would never understand.

View attachment 777687 Marcella cries uncontrollably as she feels her crossbeam being lifted up. She’s standing with her back to the crossbeam. She creams in agony as she pulled upon the upright. Quickly her feet are nailed and she hangs fully crucified! She imagines she looks much like the girl hanging on the other cross, the one who was already crucified when she arrived. After all, they are very nearly the same age. She looks up at her nailed wrists and down at her nailed feet. She doesn't even try to keep her legs closed. Though she feels shame at being nailed naked to a cross, she can do nothing about it. She relaxes her legs and lets everyone see what they come a crucifixion to see.

She hangs in agony, looking out over the crowd, as she imagines it would always be. She struggles on the cross. What a sensation! Naked, stretched out and straining. She feels horny and wishes she could have an orgasm. She tries squeezing her thighs together to stimulate herself, but it's too hard when her legs naturally want to spread apart. The crowd gathers around her cross. She tries to give them a good show. She hears them making crude comments about her pussy, about her breasts that thrust forward when she pushes and tremble on her chest when she hangs down. She pisses when she has to. Her first pee is quite strong. By pushing her hips forward she makes a nice arc of the water as it splashes down to the ground. For some strange reason she seems proud of her accomplishment. The crowd seems to enjoy it too.

View attachment 777682 Later in the day Marcella hears another voice she recognizes. The crowd is gone and she sees only her sister, Thessela, standing in front of her cross. Her arms are crossed under her breasts and she looks at her with scorn and disapproval on her face. Marcella tries to speak with her, to make her understand why she had to do this, but she has no voice. When she looks for her sister again she is gone. Well, Marcella thinks, she was always her parent's favorite. The fucking perfect daughter that she never was. Well, fuck her!

View attachment 777684 She hangs throughout the day, enduring the heat and pain and the unwelcomed attention of the crowd. She's not ashamed anymore but proud of her body. Proud that people like looking up at her. She always knew she had a great pair of tits, a slender figure and a beautiful pussy. She likes sticking her tits out and spreading her legs. It makes the men crazy, and some of the women too. The men in the crowd will never have her, will never fuck her. In the afternoon a thunderstorm rolls through, stinging her skin with the cold, wind-driven drops.

View attachment 777686 It’s evening now. She’s been crucified for hours. Her body hangs in exhaustion as she sees the sun set. Her intense physical longing to experience crucifixion remains with her. She is unsatisfied. She pushes up one final time. Her body arches out from the cross as fearful stresses push her toward, toward . . .

Marcella suddenly awakes and sits up in her bed. Her naked body is covered with sweat. It’s evening and a cool breeze is coming in through the window. She falls back, exhausted. She is trembling with unrelieved sexual energy. She spreads her legs and she furiously masturbates, bringing herself to a full, powerful orgasm that leaves her exhausted and sexually spent. She quickly falls back asleep and dreams again.

View attachment 777681 Again she sees herself crucified, hanging on a cross, her muscles stretched and bunched in agony. But this time there is a smile on her face. She’s enjoying this! Really fucking enjoying the unbearable sensations of crucifixion. Oh, if this could only last forever!

She wakes again, again extremely horny. She masturbates again. This time she falls into a dreamless sleep. She awakes with the sun streaming through the window. She stretches her tired muscles. She plans to go to the baths to refresh and clean herself. Life must go on. Her dreams are still vivid in her mind.

She’ll definitely go to the next execution when women are to be crucified. She wants to see them. But she’ll be careful. Maybe take a knife with her for protection from any men who might have the thought to assault her.
Absolutely wonderful story to accompany the drawings, Marcella. What an incredibly erotic dream
 
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