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Stories or depictions of Game of Thrones characters executed via crucifixion or other means?
gjpain
Governor
i cannot zoom in, who is the crucified?
foggybottom
Venator imaginum
OOOH yes, Madison Young, one of my all time favorites, watched her since the early days of KinK, she's appeared on numerous other sites and yes she is a redhead. But what difference does it make so long as she's naked, spread eagle and tortured.
I believe she’s Amy Hesketh In "Romana Crucifixa Est."
Preview pics may be seen here.
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/more-stills-from-romana-crucifixa-est.2459/
And here’s a zoom and a still.
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/more-stills-from-romana-crucifixa-est.2459/
And here’s a zoom and a still.
Attachments
gjpain
Governor
wow!!
bobinder
ARTISAN
https://www.deviantart.com/thevaltielSpell check, Em. Can’t find "Thevatiel" on DeviantArt.
Also here.
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/my-works-3d.7443/
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Gracias beaucoup, Bob.
Frank Petrexa
Tribune
Shouldn't that be ckolko vielen gracias beaucoup? And I hope someone with Chinese will step in here. This is a cosmopolitan site, after all.Gracias beaucoup, Bob.
Frank Petrexa
Tribune
Doesn't that look like "Jane van Dettleson" from Red Feline's "Bad Day for a Roman Woman"?
Attachments
bobinder
ARTISAN
You're both right.
Jane von Detlefson and Amy Hesketh are one and the same person.
You're both right.
Jane von Detlefson and Amy Hesketh are one and the same person.
Aha! A master of disguise!
Mistress?
Whatever. I feel I like I should have known that somehow. In any case, she’s on IMDB these days.
https://www.imdb.com/name/nm2420502/
jucundus
Diva
One of mine, from when we did not know how things would end. I called it "Mounted by a Mountain" 
. There is even a short story to it:
"Before the official victory celebration the Queen descended one last time into the dungeon where the sisters would spend the rest of their days. As instructed, her knight had been busying himself with the elder one, who had entirely lost her attitude and looked rather spent. One side effect of his biomechanical reanimation was that he sported a nearly permanent erection; sometimes the Queen mused that his apparent intellectual disability might in fact be a direct consequence of his aroused state rather than of the treatment. She had encountered a similar albeit transient condition in many men. Anyway, she did not mind, for in the end, she enjoyed giving him orders almost as much as watching him carrying them out.
So, there was the other one then, the rascal, the assassin. 'Really, you ought to be taken like a man, tomboy...' the Queen thought, and told her knight to do so... "
. There is even a short story to it:"Before the official victory celebration the Queen descended one last time into the dungeon where the sisters would spend the rest of their days. As instructed, her knight had been busying himself with the elder one, who had entirely lost her attitude and looked rather spent. One side effect of his biomechanical reanimation was that he sported a nearly permanent erection; sometimes the Queen mused that his apparent intellectual disability might in fact be a direct consequence of his aroused state rather than of the treatment. She had encountered a similar albeit transient condition in many men. Anyway, she did not mind, for in the end, she enjoyed giving him orders almost as much as watching him carrying them out.
So, there was the other one then, the rascal, the assassin. 'Really, you ought to be taken like a man, tomboy...' the Queen thought, and told her knight to do so... "
One of mine, from when we did not know how things would end. I called it "Mounted by a Mountain"
"Before the official victory celebration the Queen descended one last time into the dungeon where the sisters would spend the rest of their days. As instructed, her knight had been busying himself with the elder one, who had entirely lost her attitude and looked rather spent. One side effect of his biomechanical reanimation was that he sported a nearly permanent erection; sometimes the Queen mused that his apparent intellectual disability might in fact be a direct consequence of his aroused state rather than of the treatment. She had encountered a similar albeit transient condition in many men. Anyway, she did not mind, for in the end, she enjoyed giving him orders almost as much as watching him carrying them out.
So, there was the other one then, the rascal, the assassin. 'Really, you ought to be taken like a man, tomboy...' the Queen thought, and told her knight to do so... "
View attachment 708685
My only question is why you weren’t hired to write for GoT?
jacksjg89
PROCRASTINATOR
I like this, though it doesn’t necessarily have to be a major character. The thing about GoT is that the world is incredibly brutal, so that when we create a story, it doesn’t sound as much like “fan-fiction” as it would if someone were to do “Lord of the Rings” or “Star Wars.”
Also, I think the reason someone dies in GoT is always important, and as shocking as it is when it comes, it is never random. A lot of good people are punished for being good at the hands of wicked, weak, and cruel people in order to send messages and project strength that isn’t there.
So that being said, I present to you the death of Lord Edmure Tully and more importantly his wife, Lady Rosalin Frey Tully, after the Lion is raised about Riverrun:
Ser Daven stood among the small folk, who were all eagerly awaiting what would no doubt prove to be a fantastic spectacle. It was not long after his cousin Jaime had left Riverrun that the party that was meant to escort Lord Edmure to the Rock and boomeranged back.
Emmon “I am the Lord of Riverrun” Frey had never stopped obsessing about the threat Edmure’s life poised to his seat, Lady Gemma, so far from curbing these delusions as was her skill, encouraged it.
The castle was crawling with Frey’s. There was Edwyn Frey, Petyr Frey, Black Walder, Walder Rivers, and a few other bastards and offspring of little importance. Black Walder’s hand kept going to his cock, like he hadn’t stuck it in anything moist in a several days. No doubt he had been looking forward to the arrival of his sister, Gatehouse Ami. Daven wondered if he shed a tear when they heard that her party had been abused by outlaws and that she, like the rest, had been stripped naked and hung from a tree with an apple between her teeth. All for being a member of the wreteched Frey family. ‘Poor Ami,’ he thought, ‘her portcullis shall rise no more.’
There were shouts from the crowd, and Daven turned to see the gate opening, and the condemned being escorted to their deaths. And hated himself.
Jaime would not have allowed any harm to come to Edmure had he still been at Riverrun, and attempt to keep intact the oaths he had not already shattered. But Jaime wasn’t here, and it didn’t seem likely that there would be much he could do after the fact. That was when Daven, speaking as a Lannister, even though he wasn’t one, told Lord Emmon to his face that anything done to Lord Edmure must also be done to his wife Rosalin, Emmon’s sister, one of many no doubt. Daven had been taken back by how readily the new Lord of Riverrun agreed.
Daven’s surprise evaporated, though not his disgust, when Black Walder took him to see the woman they all insisted on calling “Lady Tully.” She was technically Black Walder’s aunt, despite being several years his junior. Daven supposed that when you have as many children as Walder Frey had, familial love was in short supply.
Little Rosalin Frey, or Tully, was chained to the wall so thoroughly, you would have though she had the strength of ten men. They had decided to save of laundry by forgetting to issue their kin prison garments, leaving her bare bottom on the cold store floor, surrounded by the rats that fought over her meager left overs. Under her pert nipples was visible the rib cage of a malnurished woman, and though may once had been the modest maiden, she now made no effort to obstruct the men’s view of the folds of flesh between her legs.
Daven gave Black Walder a hard look. The Frey took it in stride, well versed in being dispised, no doubt. “Bitch tried to let her fish husband escape. She’s truly lady Tully now.”
Daven groaned at the sorry sight of the girl who had yet to lose her beauty. He himself was arranged to marry a Frey, thinking of Robb Stark and the consequences of reneging on a match with one of Lord Walder’s offspring. And if he could have gotten a girl who looked half as pretty as the imprisoned and starved Lady Rosalin did now, he’d be ready to declare the match a victory.
“Walder!” She called in a meek, hoarse, voice. “Please, help me. I’ve gotten better at it. I swear. Let me go and I’ll do whatever you want forever.”
“Have you now?” He said. “Let’s see then.”
Black Walder was the second son of ser Stevron Frey, first born son of Lord Walder Frey and heir to the twins, before his passing made ser Ryman Frey, his older brother, the heir until his untimely death at the hands of the increasing number of outlaws that had been hanging Frey’s and their men, making his son Edwyn now the heir. But old Lord Frey had never stopped having children, and Rosalin was born of his sixth, but not last, wife, making Rosalin Black Walder’s aunt. And now, Black Walder dropped his britches to present his disgustingly filthy cock to his aunt, who took it eagerly in her mouth, without the assisantance of her chained hands, and blew her revolting nephew.
There was something perversely beautiful in this act. Whatever she thought of him, she took to her task with what appeared genuine eagerness and providing genuine pleasure. She did not seem at all disturbed when Walder finished in her mouth and allowed only the smallest amounts of cum to drip down the sides of her chin.
“Is ser please?” she asked.
“You weren’t lying about having improved aunty,” laughed Black Walder. “Will you have a go, Ser.”
Daven refused, politely as he could.
“Will you let me go now? Me and my husband? We will never trouble father again. We will go away to Essos and you’ll never hear from us again. Have I not please you?”
“You have, but you are a traitorous bitch,” he said, kicking her in the space she refused to protect. “You see that man right their. He commanded that you and your pathetic husband be executed. We have no choice but to obey.” He guffawed, and led the way out, ignoring the girls screams of horror and disbelief. Daven himself wanted to correct the lie, but then realize it was pointless, telling the girl that, though she was to die it wasn’t really his fault. He left her in darkness.
Lord and Lady Tully are being paraded through the streets of Riverrun, both naked, dirty, and haggard looking. Edmure walked forward, eyes blank and unblinking, his flaccid yet not unimpressive cock the object of ridicule among the small folk, particularly the women, some of whom were offering to buy it. Rosalin went less willingly, being dragged by two skinny guards making an effort to show her off to the crowd while having trouble keeping her under control. The sounds she made were horrible, and soon Davenport could see why. They both wore thin leather straps around their necks, from which hung the tongues that use to be in their mouths, one of which had been used to bring Black Walker to climax. Though this touch fit the Frey’s brand of cruelty so well, Daven expected Lady Gemma’s hand in this. Can’t have Lord Edmure babbling about Cousin Jaime’s broken promises to him, or Rosalin screaming that she was the daughter of Lord
Daven looked for the headsman and his ax on the raised platform where sat Lord Emmon and Lady Gemma, by instead saw two long, think wooden stakes, sharpened at the end. ‘So that was to be it then’ thought Daven. ‘Well, if you can’t be can’t be strong, intelligent, or even clever, be cruel, and rely on your reputation protect you.” And Daven laughed to himself think about the sigil of house Piper, and the unclad beauty dancing on their shields. “What sort of man hides behind a naked woman?” He remembered questions Lewys Piper. That’s exactly what the Frey’s were doing.
The naked prisoners were escorted before Lord Emmon, who gave a long speech about how after this day no one would question his claim to Riverrun, and waved the paper signed by King Tommon, which he never parted with, over his head before pronouncing his sentence to the traitors, Lord and Lady Tully, the latter his half sister, though he had been in at the rock long before little Rosalin had been born.
He quite stupidly asked them if they had any last words, which earned him a kick in the shins from his wife. After neither Edmure nor Rosalin could speak any coherent words, the execution began.
Lord Edmure was first. His legs were kicked out from under him and he landed flat on his face. and had not the will to get up. His wife made unintelligible sounds of anguish, as she struggled to get to her lord husband. From their some amateur executioners stuck the tip of the stake into his rectum, and four men pulled him down while four more man pushed the stick up. Edmure finally showed signs of life, if only anguish cries of pain produced without the assistance of his tongue, and wiggled as much as he could to bring himself free. But his resistance didn’t last long. By the time the idiots on the dais were trying to figure out how to get the end of the stake out three his mouth, Lord Tully was long gone.
They finally managed it, and centered him on the pole, completely skewered. There was much merriment in the fact that he had died with an erection. The Frey’s left his hands tied and put a long needle through his cock and into his stomach, so that it would remain upright, and then bound his feet to the pole so that he can be turned and directioned. After that, he was raised, towering over everyone, and dripping blood onto the spectators, who did not seem to mind.
Rosalin had collapsed in a heap, tears flowing freely from her face, and paid no attention, even as Black Walder was asking the crowd if her hole ‘should be widened.’ The Crowd roared with approval, and serves them right, for they were treated to a view of the incestuous rapist’s hairy ass as his the girl was laid out on her back, her arms under her, and took whatever was given to her, uncaring. A few other men took his place before the stake was taken in hand, and Rosalin Frey was impaled. The executioners had seem to get better with practice, for when the sharp bit exited out her mouth, her feet were still kicking a bit. They had missed her heart, much to everyone’s enjoyment. They bound her feet, so that she would remain upright, and lifted her up. The last of the Tully’s were now decorations honoring the victory of House Frey.
It was time to leave the city. It had already begun to smell like the latrines of the siege camps. He packed up his bags, bade farewell to Lady Gemma and no one else, took his men and exited the city on the afternoon of the execution. He rode by the bodies of Edmure and Rosalin on his way out, towering above the flag of The Twins that had been raised between them, another idiotic mistake. Edmure had been an idiot, and Daven had no sympathy for idiots, but Rosalin had been an innocent, and her she was, naked and on a spit, by the hand of her own family. Obviously they would not have does this if they had known everyone knew that she was their kin, but for some reason the Frey’s must have thought that people would see this display and think this was not a one of their own, tortured, humiliated, and displayed so lewdly.
Daven rode on, away from the cruelty, stupidity, and the stench.
One of the reasons I’m glad I never watched nor invested emotional capital in GoT is that the good guys were always getting killed.
That’s one of the reasons "I Claudius" wore me out. And in HBO's Rome you rooted for Pullo and Vorenus, but they routinely did things that were horrific and, y'know, just plain wrong.
In addition, these cable shows had no qualms about full frontal nudity, and the righteous falling victim to the wicked, but never had scenes like this
and that is also just plain wrong.
That’s one of the reasons "I Claudius" wore me out. And in HBO's Rome you rooted for Pullo and Vorenus, but they routinely did things that were horrific and, y'know, just plain wrong.
In addition, these cable shows had no qualms about full frontal nudity, and the righteous falling victim to the wicked, but never had scenes like this
and that is also just plain wrong.