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When did you realize you were into this kink?

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apostate630

apostate630

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I was discussing this online with another member, who began to fantasize about crucifixion as a child. My own interest did not gel in my mind until well into middle age.

March, 2002, to be exact. A stressed out, post-9/11 New Yorker sleeplessly web surfing way after midnight. For reasons I will never fully understand I googled "crucified women."

Which led me immediately to Hufkens' site, and the attached picture. CW remained the focus of my fetish for over a year, until I finally signed up with the late, lamented Yahoo Crux group.
 

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A less widely seen color version, sent to me by another crux fetishist/fan when I was a newbie.
 
About 44 years ago for me, when I was around 13 or so. I didn't know that anyone else in the world had this fetish until 1999, when I discovered the Crux Yahoo group.

Jedakk
 
Jedakk, I've found that most folks with a crux kink knew it when they were young, about when puberty kicked in.

It is a mystery that I did not, considering my largely pre-Vatican II Catholic upbringing. The Church was big on the virtues of pain back then. And I've said this before, but it's worth repeating. The central image of the faith is a mostly naked, vaguely effeminate guy nailed to a cross.

I had fantasies and incipient hard-ons involving St. Agnes stripped naked in fourth grade, but not of the in-your-face imagery of a grown woman hanging naked from a cross. That lay dormant until I was 47.

Perhaps a better question would have been, "How old were you when you had your first crux fantasy?"
 
Must have been about age 13. I am not from a Catholic family and have never had strong religeous beliefs, so I have no idea where it came from.
Like Jedakk, I thought I was the only one. Until 2003 when I bought my first computer, subscribed to AOL and typed in 'crucified women'
 
the search

apostate630 said:
"Crucified women" is what I call a brute-force internet search term.

But it seems to work amazingly well. Did for me.
Click to expand...
me too i didn't now how i found because google was not in the picture
:lol: hans
 
apostate630 said:
"Crucified women" is what I call a brute-force internet search term.

But it seems to work amazingly well. Did for me.
Click to expand...
i like that girl
i have seen some pics of her (at the cmagazine cover)
anybody can upload more pics of her?
 
I have some free time. Thought I'd post some Galya pics on general principles.

I gather she's not one of Makar's favorite models. But her pics are, well, hot as hell.
 
I think I started fantasising about crucifixion round about the age of 8. When I reached puberty I realized I was bisexual. I mean I really am attracted to both men and women.

I was crucified for the first time at age 22. That was 10 years ago now. My first crucifixion is quite a story in itself. I'll write about it at a later date.
 
Christineb, I find it interesting that the folks who've spoken up on this topic all woke up to this kink as children or teenagers. I didn't until my late 40s, altough it must have been bouncing around my subconcious for decades.

I don't expect you to gift us with pics of you on your cross, but could you describe how you do it? Makar's method is realistic and hot, but it is wearing on the models. Specifically, it HURTS, and they can only stay up there for 15-20 minutes max.

The attached DeMullotto render depicts Bridgette and Diane. They employ footrests and sediles to support their weight. I consider this less authentic, but the method allows them to remain on their crosses for hours.

So again, could you share your methods?
 
My first crucifixion

A true account

I am standing at the front door of a suburban house. It is 3 pm on a wintry Friday afternoon in Melbourne, Australia. I have followed Ulrike's instructions to the letter. I left the university at 1:30 pm telling no one where I was going. Monday is a public holiday. I have made no arrangements with my usual circle of friends and family for the long weekend.

I used public transport to get to the address Ulrike gave me. No friend or family member knows where I am. Should anything happen to me it is unlikely I would be missed till Tuesday at the earliest. This is a scary thought. It makes me hesitate before ringing the bell and announcing my presence.

Should I walk away? Should I walk the two kilometers to the station and take the train back to town?

Even as I contemplate walking away, I realize I can't do it. Quite simply, I cannot bear the thought of never seeing Ulrike again. And I have a sense that if I do walk away that's what will happen.

I ring the bell.

A few seconds pass. I hear footsteps on the other side of the door. The door opens.

There she is! God she is beautiful.

Ulrike is an inch short of six feet. She has a fair complexion with chestnut hair. Her tits are small but well shaped. Her legs are long. There is no fat on her. She is a long beautiful woman. Today she is dressed in black leather. Boots, leather skirt, leather blouse.

"Christine, I was certain you would come," she says. Ulrike has just a hint of a German accent. Her English is always precise. She rarely uses contractions.

Without further ado she puts her arms around me and hugs me. I inhale Ulrike's aroma. It is a sort of mixture of musk and jasmine.

Then she steps back. There is to be no kissing. "You must come in and remove your clothes Christine," she says.

I step through the door and find myself in a small entrance-hall. Ulrike is standing holding a large plastic bag, a bin liner. Wordlessly I remover my clothes and hand them to her. First my shoes. Then my Armani business skirt and my silk blouse. Then my Victoria's Secret under bra and panties. Lastly my stockings. As I hand each item to Ulrike she puts them in the bag.

Stripping before Ulrike is a fantastically sensuous experience. I feel my pussy getting wet. I see Ulrike looking at my wet pussy. It causes me no embarrassment. I know she enjoys the smell of my wetness.

I am naked, wearing only my gold crucifix, a present from my grandmother. I am about to remove it but Ulrike stops me. "Keep you crucifix on, Christine. It will add to the pleasure of those who will watch you."

Ulrike hands me a something that looks like a velvet sack and a pair of metal handcuffs.

"Now Christine," she says, "you must cover your head with this blindfold. Then you must handcuff your hands behind your back. By doing this you signify your willingness to submit to whatever I have in store for you."

I put the velvet sack over my head. There is an air hole for my nose so I can breathe freely. There is also and opening for my mouth and my ears. I can hear and speak. But I can see nothing.

There is a ribbon around the bottom of the sack. I fasten it around my neck. Ulrike places the handcuffs in my hands. I put my hands. Using touch and feel I put one manacle around my left wrist. Then I put my hands behind my back and slip my other wrist into the right manacle.

I am standing, naked, blindfolded and handcuffed. I hear Ulrike say, "Christine is ready for you now Paul."

I hear footsteps. A male hand touches my left arm. A man's voice says, "Come with me Christine."

To be continued.
 
apostate630,

Feel free to share this with whoever you want.


My first crucifixion

A true account

Part 2


I feel another male hand grab my right arm. The two men half drag, half carry me along some sort of corridor. God, this is thrilling.

We make an abrupt left turn through what I think is a doorway. Then I am slammed face first against what seems to be a flat wooden stave. I feel a pair of male hands on my back pushing me hard against the wood.

The handcuffs are released. My arms are yanked apart and clamped into to what appear to be broad manacles set into a cross beam.

The manacles move apart! They stretch my arms taught at an angle of about 30 degrees above the horizontal. My arms are stretched so tight I actually feel some lift on my feet.

Then my legs are moved apart and I feel broad clamps being tightened about my ankles. Later I learn I have been clamped into a device known as a leg separator.

Moving my legs apart lowers my body a fraction and further increases the pressure on my arms and shoulders. I literally have almost no wiggle room. I am so hard up against the stave that I feel its pressure against my pussy. My by now dripping wet pussy.


"Christine," I hear a voice say. It is Paul, whoever he may be. "If you can hear me say 'yes.'"

"Yes," I reply.

"You will obey my every instruction immediately and without hesitation. Say 'yes' if you understand."

"Yes."

"There is only one punishment for disobedience. Expulsion. If you disobey me or even if I judge your obedience to be unsatisfactory Ulrike will return your possessions to you and drive you back to town. You will never be permitted to return. Say 'yes' if you understand."

"Yes," I say again.

"Here are your first instructions. You will speak only when spoken to. You will utter no sound, no scream, no cry, no matter what is done to you or no matter how much pain you feel. Say 'yes' if you understand."

"Yes."

I hear a door close behind me. I sense that I am alone. The pain in my arms and shoulders is growing. There is just enough play in my foot manacles to allow me to go on tip toe. That relieves the stress on my upper body but after a while my calves feel as if they are on fire. It is not helped by the fact that my legs are at an angle. Going on tip toe puts added pressure on the inner part of my feet and they begin to burn.

I have no sense of the passing of time. I do not know whether a minute or an hour has passed. I wonder whether I shall suffer permanent damage.

To be continued.
 
I was just wondering--since all the users share common fantasies on this site, and they seem to come from around the world, why don't we all post some short bios about ourselves and our shared interest--crucifixion? We don't need to go into a lot of details--just a short thumbnail sketch of who we are, where we're from, what we like, and how we got interested in this subject. I've noticed a few times in other posts that some of the users consider themselves freaks or perverts or worse, when the reality is that we simply have a unique source for our sexual pleasure. I've talked to a number of counselors and psychiatrists about fantasies like this, and they all agree: it's not perverted as long as no one gets hurt. We're not perverts. Maybe if we post some bios about ourselves, others will realize this and feel better about joining in. What do you think?
 
It is UNIQUE.

As for me, it was a way to scare the be-jesus out of me. I've been constantly horrified that my family and freinds in the Christian religion worship such a bloody almost vampiric image of a guy on a cross. Ever since I was young - this image, to me did not represent divinity, it represented cruelty and submission to cruelty. So at a young age, I have it written down somewhere... around 12-14 years old - I began spitting out the bread at mass and then started doing you-know-what to images of crucifixions. I was not a fan of this submissive cult. But ah! This helped me distance myself from the supposed sacredness of the image, and soon after I found out what in fact an "atheist" was - that was a term I had never heard of nor been introduced to until I started listening to punk rock music.

So from a young age I've been disgusted by the notion of one being bound to circumstances one can no longer resist. Now, I derive pleasure from a situation where a person willingly puts ones self into a binding situation... ironic. I think the desire and the ability to put ones self into and get ones self out of these situations - physically and metaphorically - is a great pretense to this crux fetish of mine. Now the cross is simply a "turn on" - possibly a remnant of my past. But the whole bloody serious edge has been worn down and dull. There's a lot of carnage and blood and misery going on in the world today - stuff I am still horrified of, stuff that keeps me awake at night - school shootings, the tragic situation of the civilians caught in the cross fire of Isreal and the Palestinian militants, Iraq, Sudan, domestic abuse - none of these things are "turn ons" - they are chilling like lightning strikes in my conscience...

So how can I turn away from all of that and look at these girls on crosses and get all hard? Well - as I said, I have a previous history with the cross that I was introduced to far before I learned of Gaza for instance. On the other hand - I do feel awful, and terribly sympathetic to the suffering of people worldwide. I think being so close to suffering as a fetish has let me imagine what terrible suffering is still going on in the world today... but again, without being turned on by it!

It is still a sharp edge after all!

To that extent, I do love this fetish with a conscience. The cross no longer represents simply barbaric abuse of human beings. It seems to reflect the option to be bound to a situation... just for the fun of it. And with all of the terror and drama of the real world, all of these things that make one want to turn off the news forever and just ignore it all and hope it will go away - I am able to resist that urge to be apethetic and uncaring (in other words, I'm not afraid to criticize the policies of corrupt governments, as I am not afraid to talk politics with friends and family), as long as I get 10 or 15 minutes a day to let out my frustration in a somewhat spiritual/sensual way.

So - fetishist with a hyperactive conscience - that's me.

Definitely UNIQUE.

BTW - the newly posted video caled "Looking For Love In All The Wrong Place(s)" is very encouraging - it makes me want to actually try one of these crux scenes out. As if I'd ever be able to find a female strange enough and willing enough to try it out with me. Though my policy still stands of, "Anything I do to you, you can do to me - if you want." That "...if you want." part is most important it seems. There doesn't seem to be any room for hesitation in the bondage game... I don't know, I've never had any very good experiences, nor any for that matter.
 
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