Alina

[nicole]

very exciting story, I have no doubt that she will be magnificent naked under the whip, and maybe despite herself she will still cum

 

[tygavin]

The pillory was something she had no idea about. Rome had never broadcast a prisoner in the pillory surprisingly. She had a feeling she would be the first. Perhaps this was some new punishment made just for her.

She stood docile between two soldiers while Tristan had left. The crowd began to filter from the stands to the ground level and Constantine had gone inside only to emerge in a balcony a floor up to watch her. The bastard blew her a kiss when she met his eyes, causing her to blush in humiliation. Of all done, having an orgasm caused by that man, much less two, begging to be fucked by the man she despised, was the worst so far.

Tristan came out with soldiers holding a large wooden platform. She naturally knew what a pillory was but there were many types.

This type appeared to be a bench that she would lay her upper body on, a cut out for her head and hands, straps to hold her down and padded knee rests that would obviously keep her in primes position for fucking. She saw one of the soldiers stepping on a footrest and watching the bench go up and down. How convenient for the one fucking her.

How many people would they really let fuck her? Surely, they wouldn’t let her be fucked to death and save her from the cross. There were thousands in the stands but not all would have a shot.

She was pushed forward and did not resist. She was relieved when her hands were uncuffed and her bracelets taken off. Then her collar was taken off and she realized how heavy the damn thing was as her neck felt so much better without it.

Her relief was short lived when she was forced onto the bench. Her upper body was pulled forward and the wood was open then closed, trapping her head and her wrists.

This was frightening. Alina thought this may be a preview of the cross. She had no agency. Her knees were locked in place. Her waist was strapped down. A solider just slapped her ass and laughed and she couldn’t hardly jerk. Her head was trapped by the wood and her hands were trapped, useless.

A definite preview of tomorrow. She wanted to scream in fear. This was her worst nightmare. She always had complete control of her body, but since she had arrived here, she had lost that. She had lost it in her cell, in the torture chamber, but now she was exposed in front of all of Rome and perhaps the world.

The slave, she couldn’t remember her name now, had shaved her bare. The entire world was seeing a close up of her bald pussy.

“Line up, present your cocks. If you are chosen, you must lube up and be hard when you reach the front of the line. Those of you who want her to suck your dick line up on the other side. She is good and won’t bite. She has been tamed. Enjoy yourself. Don’t break her jaw. We all want to hear her scream tomorrow.”

A cameraman was in front of her, and she closed her eyes. She opened her eyes when she was slapped. A cock was in front of her.

Hands were on her waist and a lubed cock was entering her.

“God no.” she whispered.

She grunted when the large cock pierced her. It appeared the guards were only choosing those with impressive cocks. Another slap brought her attention to the front of her. She opened her mouth, and it was filled, a fist in her hair, encouraging her to bob up and down.

She was once again rudely reminded that she had no agency over her body.

“Don’t cum in her mouth. Have a little respect for the next guy. Cum on her head, her face, and clean your cock off in her hair but nothing in the mouth. Same goes for her cunt and ass. Looking at you, motherfucker.”

After what seemed to be forever, Alina was given a break.

“Don’t want you to get fucked to death.” A guard explained. “Unstrap her, let her walk. No damage to her legs and arms before she hangs.”

Alina felt her body being released and the wood coming off her hands and neck. She raised herself slowly and to her horror, could not feel her hands.

“My hands!”

“Relax. Feeling will come back to them.” A voice told her.

She tried to stand and fell back, caught by a guard. “Relax, take it slow. You been in the same position for a while. If it makes you feel better, you won’t lose any feelings on the cross. I’ve heard people say they were in agonizing pain up until they took their last breath.”

Alina though of pointing out that it didn’t help but they knew that. She felt horrible. The top of her scalp felt like someone had dumped a pound of hair gel on her head. Her long blonde hair was stiff all over. She could feel spent sperm dried all over her face. She could also feel it all over her back. Her ass was as sore as her pussy, perhaps more so. She had not been fucked near as much in the ass as her pussy the last few days. The Romans seemed to be balancing that out.

She looked behind herself and saw a line as far as she could see into the dark.

In front of her was another line. She began feeling her feet and hands again and pulled herself out of the guard’s arms.

“Drink.” He told her. Alina took a glass of water with both hands and drank, trying to remember when the last time she had eaten was. She couldn’t remember if she had. She had used the toilet often and suspected they had put laxatives in her water, she had been given drugs to drive her out of her mind with lust, even gassed. But she couldn’t remember eating and was thankful for that. The worse she was, the shorter amount of time it would take her to die. She suspected her comrades had what they needed. If not, they still had a few days, and perhaps more if Constantine would allow her body to hang until it rotted.

“I can’t fuck all these people.” Alina said quietly.

A soldier slapped her ass. “Of course, you can. That water had some happy juice. You are going to stay nice and wet, and they are going to stay lubed up. You don’t even have to work. Just lay still and open wide. We will make sure none of them choke you to death. Emperor would have us hanged on a cross if that happened.”

Alina looked up to the balcony and saw Constantine still watching. He waved at her, smiling smugly.

She was strapped back in and cried silently as the first cock in line entered her.

To her great humiliation she had an orgasm. Then another. The drug was working. She didn’t even care that her hair was being used as a cum towel. She sucked dick hard, made a game out of it, tried to see if she could make them explode before they could pull out. She succeeded with a few and those cried out as the guards pulled them away to beat them.

Amazing that she had no way to fight back except to blow them so hard they couldn’t help but cum in her mouth. It was sick, the taste was horrible, but it was worth it to hear Roman screams.

She knew she had taken breaks, remembered standing for periods of times. She knew it was getting late when the lines began dwindling down. She wasn’t sure when it stopped but her eyes opened when the sun rose. Her neck was killing her, and she couldn’t feel her hands. Her throat was pressed against the wood.

Her vision was a bit spotty, but she thought she may have had cum across her eyelids.

“Good morning, Alina.” Constantine greeted her, kneeling so he could meet her eyes. “Gods, you look a mess. I’ve seen pleasure slaves in orgies that weren’t as covered in cum as you are. You look perfect for today. I am a man of my word. We are going to unlock you and me, you and Tristan are going to take walk to the dungeon and slow hang…I think her name was Julie, right?”

Alina didn’t answer him. She stood off the platform and shook her hands, then fell to her knees and spit cum from her mouth, large gobs of it.

“I heard you were baiting some of them.” Constantine said. “You would have made such a good pleasure slave, Alina. I don’t think we need to bind you. The fight has been beaten and fucked out of you by now. You can take my arm.”

The emperor offered his arm and Aline took it. She began to feel better the more she walked, and she regained full feeling in her hand.

They walked deep into the dungeon into a room she had never seen before. Inside was a frightened, nude, Julie with her arms tied behind her back and was standing next to a stool that had a noose hanging over it.

“General?” Julie asked, not sure. This did not seem to be the same Alina Banks she had seen a few days ago. She smelled like sex and was covered in so much cum her face almost appeared solid white.

“It’s going to be okay, Julie. You will be hung, but you won’t be crucified. Hanging is a lot better.”

Julie’s face fell and she began crying.

Alina ran her hands through her hair, breaking up some of the matting and then brushed off her face.

Tristan moved forward but Alina turned to Constantine and asked him to stop.

“The bitch has to die, Alina, just like you. We aren’t keeping her alive. She’ll choke, sputter and have a nice orgasm and that’s the end.”

“I know that. Please let me do it. I don’t want him hanging her. I’ll help her go calmly; she won’t be so frightened.”

Constantine met eyes with Tristan and nodded. The head torturer wasn’t happy, but he stepped aside.

Alina walked up to Julie, put her hands on her shoulders and made her face the noose. Both women took it in.

“Have you made your peace, Julie?”

Julie nodded.

“Good, Safe travels, soldier. You did your duty.”

Alina snapped her neck, then swiveled and swung, her palm striking Tristan’s nose and shattering it, sending shards into his brain. For good measure she snapped his neck on the way down.

Multiple guards rushed in, tasers raised but Alina threw her hands up.

“I’m good. You are going to have to find someone else to whip me. Sorry for the inconvenience but I really hated that guy.”

Constantine took one of her arms and spun her around, snapping cuffs on her.

“I hope that was worth it.”

Alina laughed for the first time in what felt like days. “You have to be careful around wild animals who have nothing to lose. When I snapped her neck, I had nothing to lose. You should have known that.”

Constantine shoved her to his guards. “Prepare this whore for whipping. Give her a double shot of aphrodisiac. I want her horny as hell when she takes the whip. The world is going to see her as the cum drunk, pain slut she truly is.”

 

[nicole]

Now that they can't blackmail her, she'll pay dearly

 

[Blue]

The pillory was something she had no idea about. Rome had never broadcast a prisoner in the pillory surprisingly. She had a feeling she would be the first. Perhaps this was some new punishment made just for her.

She stood docile between two soldiers while Tristan had left. The crowd began to filter from the stands to the ground level and Constantine had gone inside only to emerge in a balcony a floor up to watch her. The bastard blew her a kiss when she met his eyes, causing her to blush in humiliation. Of all done, having an orgasm caused by that man, much less two, begging to be fucked by the man she despised, was the worst so far.

Tristan came out with soldiers holding a large wooden platform. She naturally knew what a pillory was but there were many types.

This type appeared to be a bench that she would lay her upper body on, a cut out for her head and hands, straps to hold her down and padded knee rests that would obviously keep her in primes position for fucking. She saw one of the soldiers stepping on a footrest and watching the bench go up and down. How convenient for the one fucking her.

How many people would they really let fuck her? Surely, they wouldn’t let her be fucked to death and save her from the cross. There were thousands in the stands but not all would have a shot.

She was pushed forward and did not resist. She was relieved when her hands were uncuffed and her bracelets taken off. Then her collar was taken off and she realized how heavy the damn thing was as her neck felt so much better without it.

Her relief was short lived when she was forced onto the bench. Her upper body was pulled forward and the wood was open then closed, trapping her head and her wrists.

This was frightening. Alina thought this may be a preview of the cross. She had no agency. Her knees were locked in place. Her waist was strapped down. A solider just slapped her ass and laughed and she couldn’t hardly jerk. Her head was trapped by the wood and her hands were trapped, useless.

A definite preview of tomorrow. She wanted to scream in fear. This was her worst nightmare. She always had complete control of her body, but since she had arrived here, she had lost that. She had lost it in her cell, in the torture chamber, but now she was exposed in front of all of Rome and perhaps the world.

The slave, she couldn’t remember her name now, had shaved her bare. The entire world was seeing a close up of her bald pussy.

“Line up, present your cocks. If you are chosen, you must lube up and be hard when you reach the front of the line. Those of you who want her to suck your dick line up on the other side. She is good and won’t bite. She has been tamed. Enjoy yourself. Don’t break her jaw. We all want to hear her scream tomorrow.”

A cameraman was in front of her, and she closed her eyes. She opened her eyes when she was slapped. A cock was in front of her.

Hands were on her waist and a lubed cock was entering her.

“God no.” she whispered.

She grunted when the large cock pierced her. It appeared the guards were only choosing those with impressive cocks. Another slap brought her attention to the front of her. She opened her mouth, and it was filled, a fist in her hair, encouraging her to bob up and down.

She was once again rudely reminded that she had no agency over her body.

“Don’t cum in her mouth. Have a little respect for the next guy. Cum on her head, her face, and clean your cock off in her hair but nothing in the mouth. Same goes for her cunt and ass. Looking at you, motherfucker.”

After what seemed to be forever, Alina was given a break.

“Don’t want you to get fucked to death.” A guard explained. “Unstrap her, let her walk. No damage to her legs and arms before she hangs.”

Alina felt her body being released and the wood coming off her hands and neck. She raised herself slowly and to her horror, could not feel her hands.

“My hands!”

“Relax. Feeling will come back to them.” A voice told her.

She tried to stand and fell back, caught by a guard. “Relax, take it slow. You been in the same position for a while. If it makes you feel better, you won’t lose any feelings on the cross. I’ve heard people say they were in agonizing pain up until they took their last breath.”

Alina though of pointing out that it didn’t help but they knew that. She felt horrible. The top of her scalp felt like someone had dumped a pound of hair gel on her head. Her long blonde hair was stiff all over. She could feel spent sperm dried all over her face. She could also feel it all over her back. Her ass was as sore as her pussy, perhaps more so. She had not been fucked near as much in the ass as her pussy the last few days. The Romans seemed to be balancing that out.

She looked behind herself and saw a line as far as she could see into the dark.

In front of her was another line. She began feeling her feet and hands again and pulled herself out of the guard’s arms.

“Drink.” He told her. Alina took a glass of water with both hands and drank, trying to remember when the last time she had eaten was. She couldn’t remember if she had. She had used the toilet often and suspected they had put laxatives in her water, she had been given drugs to drive her out of her mind with lust, even gassed. But she couldn’t remember eating and was thankful for that. The worse she was, the shorter amount of time it would take her to die. She suspected her comrades had what they needed. If not, they still had a few days, and perhaps more if Constantine would allow her body to hang until it rotted.

“I can’t fuck all these people.” Alina said quietly.

A soldier slapped her ass. “Of course, you can. That water had some happy juice. You are going to stay nice and wet, and they are going to stay lubed up. You don’t even have to work. Just lay still and open wide. We will make sure none of them choke you to death. Emperor would have us hanged on a cross if that happened.”

Alina looked up to the balcony and saw Constantine still watching. He waved at her, smiling smugly.

She was strapped back in and cried silently as the first cock in line entered her.

To her great humiliation she had an orgasm. Then another. The drug was working. She didn’t even care that her hair was being used as a cum towel. She sucked dick hard, made a game out of it, tried to see if she could make them explode before they could pull out. She succeeded with a few and those cried out as the guards pulled them away to beat them.

Amazing that she had no way to fight back except to blow them so hard they couldn’t help but cum in her mouth. It was sick, the taste was horrible, but it was worth it to hear Roman screams.

She knew she had taken breaks, remembered standing for periods of times. She knew it was getting late when the lines began dwindling down. She wasn’t sure when it stopped but her eyes opened when the sun rose. Her neck was killing her, and she couldn’t feel her hands. Her throat was pressed against the wood.

Her vision was a bit spotty, but she thought she may have had cum across her eyelids.

“Good morning, Alina.” Constantine greeted her, kneeling so he could meet her eyes. “Gods, you look a mess. I’ve seen pleasure slaves in orgies that weren’t as covered in cum as you are. You look perfect for today. I am a man of my word. We are going to unlock you and me, you and Tristan are going to take walk to the dungeon and slow hang…I think her name was Julie, right?”

Alina didn’t answer him. She stood off the platform and shook her hands, then fell to her knees and spit cum from her mouth, large gobs of it.

“I heard you were baiting some of them.” Constantine said. “You would have made such a good pleasure slave, Alina. I don’t think we need to bind you. The fight has been beaten and fucked out of you by now. You can take my arm.”

The emperor offered his arm and Aline took it. She began to feel better the more she walked, and she regained full feeling in her hand.

They walked deep into the dungeon into a room she had never seen before. Inside was a frightened, nude, Julie with her arms tied behind her back and was standing next to a stool that had a noose hanging over it.

“General?” Julie asked, not sure. This did not seem to be the same Alina Banks she had seen a few days ago. She smelled like sex and was covered in so much cum her face almost appeared solid white.

“It’s going to be okay, Julie. You will be hung, but you won’t be crucified. Hanging is a lot better.”

Julie’s face fell and she began crying.

Alina ran her hands through her hair, breaking up some of the matting and then brushed off her face.

Tristan moved forward but Alina turned to Constantine and asked him to stop.

“The bitch has to die, Alina, just like you. We aren’t keeping her alive. She’ll choke, sputter and have a nice orgasm and that’s the end.”

“I know that. Please let me do it. I don’t want him hanging her. I’ll help her go calmly; she won’t be so frightened.”

Constantine met eyes with Tristan and nodded. The head torturer wasn’t happy, but he stepped aside.

Alina walked up to Julie, put her hands on her shoulders and made her face the noose. Both women took it in.

“Have you made your peace, Julie?”

Julie nodded.

“Good, Safe travels, soldier. You did your duty.”

Alina snapped her neck, then swiveled and swung, her palm striking Tristan’s nose and shattering it, sending shards into his brain. For good measure she snapped his neck on the way down.

Multiple guards rushed in, tasers raised but Alina threw her hands up.

“I’m good. You are going to have to find someone else to whip me. Sorry for the inconvenience but I really hated that guy.”

Constantine took one of her arms and spun her around, snapping cuffs on her.

“I hope that was worth it.”

Alina laughed for the first time in what felt like days. “You have to be careful around wild animals who have nothing to lose. When I snapped her neck, I had nothing to lose. You should have known that.”

Constantine shoved her to his guards. “Prepare this whore for whipping. Give her a double shot of aphrodisiac. I want her horny as hell when she takes the whip. The world is going to see her as the cum drunk, pain slut she truly is.”

This is great! Not completely broken...yet? The description of her humiliation is excellent, you really are very good at this!

 

[tygavin]

Alina was pulled out of the dungeon roughly, hands squeezing her upper arms, a hand on the back of her neck. The men who had her were furious and with good reason. Not only had she cheated them out of a slow hanging of a sexy young prisoner of war, but also taken one of their own. She doubted Tristan had any friends, but the Romans must have felt like fools. She did have quite an impressive body count so far, a record she would bet for a prisoner.

She squinted her eyes when they exited the dungeon and she was shoved roughly, brutally to the ground, the air leaving her. A hand grabbed her hair and began pulling her. She rose to her knees and scrambled to keep up. A foot kicked her ass, then another kick landed between her legs, making her scream and falter, only to be dragged further.

She heard the crowd roaring in joy but could not focus on them, trying to keep up on her hands and knees, being led by her hair.

When they stopped, she was stood up and a fist landed in her stomach. She bent over and another hand slapped her in the ear, sending her back to the dirt.

“Prepare the hot irons for this bitch.” Someone said.

Alina was pulled up again, now dust mingling with the cum all over her face. She was almost wearing a mask; her face had been so disgraced.

She was having difficulty breathing yet trying to take everything in. She knew a there was a tall cross post above her. She looked to the right and left and saw the poles it was mounted on, wide apart. The beam was very high. There were also some sort of chains hanging down.

Wide cuffs were snaped on her wrists and connected by a chain. The chains from the high cross beam lowered and she was attached. Then she began to rise by her wrists, her body stretching. When her feet left the ground, she felt cuffs attached to them and knew her ankles were being attached to the ground.

Once they were attached, she continued to rise, stretching her body as tightly as possible without breaking her bones or anything that would lessen her suffering on the cross.

She was spread before the Romans, her naked body covered in dirt, cum, sweat, her nipples hard and…to her horror she was wet. Someone had injected her!

A shirtless, well-built man with a hairy chest, wearing black leather pants and a black hood, stepped in front of her with a bullwhip on his hands.

She recognized the desire in his eyes. He didn’t want to fuck her. He wanted to hurt her, to listen to her scream. She trembled in fear.

Her fear gave way to humiliation soon enough. Constantine stepped in front of her, a small microphone on his collar and a cameraman in front of her.

“Men and women of Rome! Those watching around the world. We bring you the prisoner Alina Banks a former soldier who dared oppose the might of Rome and now is at our mercy where she belongs!”

The crowd cheered loudly.

“If you look at the screens, you can tell, this whore is covered in Roman seed. The world may believe we are animals however I think these videos will show differently and expose her for the whore she really is!”

Alina’s eyes opened wide, and she watched the giant screens set up above the stands. She saw her face, her embarrassing, formerly beautiful face, now not fit for a slave. Even her lips and eyebrows were crusted. Her beautiful blonde hair was a mess of white flakes and some locks that were just stuck together.

Then she saw herself being fucked by Romans in her cell.

She was fucked over and over, sucking cocks, and to her horror, pushing back, her ass wiggling, her mouth moaning, she had taken cocks in hand and was stroking them, her mouth opened to receive cum.

She didn’t remember this. She remembered the rapes, and the damn drug made her feel so good. Had she truly been fucking them back? She looked like she was enjoying herself!

Another video, she was masturbating with the silver vibrator, her legs wide open looking at the camera and grinning before she came.

There were shots of her on her knees, her mouth open and looking skyward for her next load.

“As you can see, she was hardly a victim. It appeared she enjoyed her time. Perhaps that was why it was so easy to catch her. She walked over into our borders and did not run when our forces took custody of her. We learned that interrogation techniques did not work. She received pleasure from pain.”

Constantine shoved a finger up her cunt and pulled it out. He showed it to the crowd. “Even now, strung up, she is begging for pain.”

Rather than cheers, laughter rang out, humiliating her further.

“Begin.” Constantine ordered, walking to the nearby steps to the palace where he took his place in his makeshift throne, he was crowned on.

The audience quieted and Alina tried to take deep breaths but was unable due to the manner she was strung up.

She kept her eye on the hooded man in front of her, never flinching as he unfurled the long leather whip.

She screamed when the first lash hit her, more from surprise than pain. She had no idea there had been someone with a whip behind her.

The whip wrapped around her waist with a crack and the tip struck her ass. She had been snakebit as a child and this reminded her of that experience. It happened so quick she hadn’t had time to prepare.

She tried to look behind her, but her eyes caught the executioner in front of her. She leaned her head back as far as possible. Rather than the whip lashing around her, this burned a line from her sternum to her belly, leaving a red burning streak.

After that it was a steady barrage. Front and back, all she felt was pain. She had no idea how many she had sustained, or even what body parts were hit any longer.

She let herself scream. There was no point not to. Restraining would only hurt herself and do nothing to save face. She had lost any dignity she had long ago. All that was left was the dying.

The tip of a whip struck her left nipple, rendering her silent, unable to even scream. The heavy ring vibrated from the strike, and she felt it in her core.

Then the unthinkable happened. Whatever drug they had given her was still working. A lash across her back and she bucked in the air, pain battling with pleasure. She trembled and moaned and cursed.

The crowd was silent in shock. They had just seen this beaten woman have an orgasm from being whipped.

“Oh god no.” Alina whispered. She looked up at the screen with dread, confirming what she had just felt.

There she was, strung in the air, her feet cuffed and a foot over the ground, her arms cuffed and suspended in air by chains, her body on display, immobile. Unlike her body before this started, she was now covered in red stripes all over her body. It was if she had suddenly turned into a zebra only with red stripes. A strike down her back and the scene was showed in slow motion.

Her eyes widened and she bucked forward but this time she continued, as if trying to fuck the air. Her eyes rolled up in her head as her body shook and juices burst from her pussy.

There was no denying she had an orgasm. The crowd watching the replay, let out a cheer when she gushed.

She hadn’t felt turned on. She had only felt burning all over. How could this have happened.

But when she took stock of herself, there was no denying under the pain, her pussy was soaking wet. She blushed furiously.

Alina made eye contact with Constantine. He was on his throne, dressed in his military attire, red jacket, blue pants and under those pants was a large bulge. Her eyes locked onto his cock, and she remembered what he could do with it. As angry as that made her, she only wanted to focus on pleasure rather than pain.

It would soon be too late. When she focused back on her executioners, they were holding iron rods and the ends were bright red.

“Oh no.” she whispered. Her self-denial did no good. The torturer in front of her picked up her breast by the ring and pressed the molten hot tip of the rod on the underside of her breast.

Alina screamed till her voice was gone. She thought it was gone.

Until he did her other breast.

She felt heat behind her and knew another rod was about to touch her. It seared a line under her ass cheek and continued to the other. Then it was pressed to her neck and drawn down the center of her back to her ass crack.

Alina thrashed back and forth, as much as the tight chains were allowing her too.

The one in front placed the red-hot poker near her clit and she begged him not do. She begged promised him everything, she would suck his dick, bend over and let him fuck her ass in front of the world, just please no more burns, especially there.

He laughed and dropped the poker then bent down, uncuffing her ankles, leaving her swaying by her arms.

Suddenly the tension above was released and she crashed to the ground, into the dirt, curling in one herself. Alina tried to make herself be as small as possible.

She opened her eyes and peaked out behind her hands and saw the cross being dragged in. It was huge, so much larger than her small frame and it made her feel small.

She knew the cuffs were being taken from her wrists and ankles. She was pulled to her knees by her hair and found a dick thrust in her face.

“Time to pay your executioner, whore.”

Alina saw another one with a red-hot iron, opened her mouth and closed her eyes. She stayed on her knees, arms to her sides and let him take control of her head, fucking her mouth while she tried to breath through her nose. He eventually came down her throat then pulled out, spilling his seed on her lips and rubbing his cock head on her face. He wiped his cock in her crusted hair to the laughter of the crowd.

The other one approached her, and she opened her mouth without being prompted. He followed suit though he only spent most of his load covering her eyes, then forcing her to look at him.

She was dragged to the cross by her arms and forced on it. Her arms were stretched wide, and she knew what was about to happen.

Rather than be nailed, a familiar voice told the executioners to give her a moment.

Constantine knelt beside her.

“Scary, isn’t it?”

Alina tried to answer but couldn’t. She was too terrified to do anything more than shake.

“How are you feeling? Is there any part of you not hurting beside your pussy? I told them to leave your cunt alone. I have plans for you on the cross. Don’t worry, you will get a few more orgasms whether you want them or not. Breaking you has been breathtaking. All your accomplishments and fierceness and at the core, you are just another pain slut.”

Constantine patted her mound and stood.

“Nail the whore.”

 

[nicole]

bbrrrr, I get chills imagining myself in her place

 

[tygavin]

Alina wished they would get it over with yet dreaded it as well. She knew where she had been headed, she knew the pain she was in for.

Alina knew it would be hell. Her torture session had taught her her how she really held up under pain. Not well.

The whipping was like fire, the hot irons, actual fire. The humiliation made her wish to die, hope that there was nothing on the other side, pray that there would only be nonexistence so she wouldn’t be a soul roaming heaven or hell with the memories of what she had ben put through, what she had done and what she had craved. Being wiped from existence was not a gift she believed she would be given.

At least she had saved Julie from pain and killed one of her tormentors. With luck she would last long enough to see the rest die.

This was it. Despite the pain in her body, it was the wood she lay on that caught her attention most. It was rugged in a way, and she knew as she rubbed it, splinters would be dug into her already tortured and ruined back. It was huge, and despite her height and impressive physique, she would appear very small on it.

She lay there, staring up at the sky, at the men looking down on her, the hooded men whose cocks she had just sucked in front of the world. She could still taste that cum coating the inside of her mouth and small amounts stuck in her throat.

Her breasts felt so cold, the fire giving way to a freezing feeling where her breasts had been burned. How had they known the underside of her breasts was where she was most sensitive. Visions of Celia, lifting her breasts and her tongue running from underneath to her nipples flashed in her mind before she was brought back to the present by her pain.

She felt a coolness on her belly and raised her head.

The bastard executioner had sat four very long thick nails with huge heads on her abdomen. She nearly pissed seeing that and probably would have if her bladder wasn’t so empty. She couldn’t remember the last time she had food or water.

“Ready?” a deep voice called.

“No, let her experience her new lover slowly.” The hooded man said to the other.

He bent down and picked up one of the nails, running the sharp point over her body. She watched it, wincing as he hit her sensitive parts. She jumped when he pressed it into her belly button then ran it across her body until it touched her nipple rings and then poked the tip of her nipples.

“She is rubbing her legs together. That drug is amazing. It will be fun to ensure she experiences more pain than pleasure.” The one with the nail said. He put the nail onto her clit and lifted her hood and she defintely bucked her hips this time.

“Nail me!” she demanded.

She heard a chuckle from the black hood.

“The whore asked for it. She wants to be put on display for the world. Time to give it to her.”

Alina felt a hand on her right forearm and turned to look at it. She felt a pressure on her chest, leather pants sitting on her. She could hardly breath with him on her.

She felt that tip dig into her soft wrist and winced, Blood was drawn. She thought he would hammer her, not shove it into her slowly.

She gritted her teeth as the heavy man pressed the nail as deep into her as he could. Then he raised the broad, thick, blunt hammer and looked once at her. She would swear by his eyes, he was smiling behind that hood.

The hammer blow was fast, yet she saw it in slow motion. She heard the clink, she felt the nail partially in her wrist driven down, between her bones, smashing tendons and burying itself deeply in the nails.

She had been electrocuted for hours on her most sensitive area. This pain should have been nothing, yet it was somehow the worst she had ever felt. It would have been better if her hand was cut off quickly.

It had begun. She was attached to a wooden cross, one with it. What had been an abstract, something she knew was coming and she thought she had mentally prepared herself for, was suddenly very real. She was going to die and die horribly. There would be no last-minute rescues, her life was ending.

“Please don’t kill me!” she begged loudly but it was too late. It had begun. Another blow and she felt the nail dig deeper into the wood. She wanted to look away, but her eyes refused. It was like watching a train wreck. You knew it was inevitable, there was nothing you could do, and you didn’t want to see the destruction, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of it.

Another blow and the pain shot up her arm and her skull, causing her to scream once again.

The final blow. The moment, the split second that large nail head, pressed into her skin, not flush, but bit into her skin, pinning her forever.

“Kill me. Please, kill me!”

Instead of answering, she watched him move to her other side. A soldier held her arm down and the hooded man began the process again. Despite the pain in her arm, the burn, the unbelievable feeling of being one with this giant structure, she felt the nail being pressed deep into her wrist. This time hs scraped the bone and she opened her mouth, but no sound emerged.

Alina was shaking, her body was somehow cold and hot at the same time. Pain radiated from her wrist to her feet. Her breathing was rapid, and she could feel her racing heart.

He lifted the hammer again and she was able to close her eyes this time.

Until the hammer fell. Her eyes opened wide, and she saw the bloody wound. The nail had defintely scraped bone this time and she wasn’t even able to scream, now feeling on the verge of insanity. This shouldn’t happen. Alina was a warrior, a soldier, the predator. She was supposed to die on the field of battle, not like this.

“Celia!” she finally cried.

Another merciless hammer blow. Another cry. “Mommy! Daddy!”

The blows had reduced her to crying out for help to people who were not there. Her parents had thankfully been dead for years. She prayed Celia was not watching this.

Again, the nail head pushed into her wrist making it clear she was part of the cross. She wouldn’t just be hanging from it. She was it.

She lay still trying to catch her breath. She hadn’t been aware her legs were kicking out. She hadn’t felt anything below the waist as the man sitting on her chest and nailing her arm was her whole world.

Once he stood, she lifted her head and looked past her heaving, pierced breasts, her abdomen singing and rising with her breaths, her hips bones jutting out.

Her ankles were grabbed.

“Spread her ankles out. He wants her cunt shown and we want to make sure the cornu can be seen up whichever hole she picks.”

No, No, No. Not her feet. Give her a pedestal to rest on. She would last longer but she wouldn’t have to experience agonizing pain for every breath.

“Constantine, don’t. Stop this!”

There was no lead up. The nail wasn’t pressed into her foot. Instead, she felt the tip and bucked her hips up, feeling the large nail crushing her foot, splitting her bones. She couldn’t kick her other leg, but her hips did raise. She naturally tried to sit up on the cross, grab her wounds and she arched her back, only to fall back, remined that her arms nor her upper body would never do what she wanted again.

She had no strength to kick out. The speed she had shown killing Tristan was gone, beat out of her when the nail made her one with the wood. The pain was horrendous. For a moment she thought her wrists would tear apart, but the nail heads made sure she went nowhere.

Another blow and she heard screams, begging for mercy, begging for death, begging to be fucked, whipped, burned, anything but this.

At last, the blows stopped. She was in so much pain she couldn’t remember a time she existed without pain.

She gently tried to move her legs and found she couldn’t. There was a bend to them, one that could be greater no doubt when she hung. She pulled on her feet, but they were immovable. She wanted to close her thighs but couldn’t.

Then the executioner began hammering again and she felt every vibration in her body. Why wouldn’t she? He wasn’t hammering the cross, he was hammering her. She was part of this now.

She looked down past her breasts as much as possible. She saw a cameraman with a camera between her legs and saw a blunt tip of wood.

Cornu. She could avoid it if she wanted, stretching herself so it dug onto her back. That would be a short-term solution. She had no doubt it would not kill her. The tip was blunt, and she suspected short, not designed to tear inside her but to give her a slight rest and something to rub herself against, something to relieve the pain when she was tired of raising herself. Not that she would ever be without pain again.

No, it wasn’t enough for her to hang beaten and bloodied in front of the world. She had to be fucked as well.

The lifting was a surreal experience. She was moving, almost flying, her view of the world changing. She saw people, Romans, cheering. Men, women of all ages were leering at her. As her view righted itself, she yelled out as her body began to drop, her burning back and ass sliding down the rough wood. Splinters were digging in, her legs were dropping, the beck of her thighs hitting her calve muscles and the damn cornu! It was in the worst place possible. Its tip was just between her pussy and asshole.

She instinctively spread her legs and looked between them at the ground. There was a hole, the exact dimensions of her cross, her final lover.

Alina knew what was coming and made a split-second decision. She lined her asshole to the tip of the cornu.

Landing in the hole was a pain of a different type all together. Her legs slammed completely at a ninety-degree angle, and the cornu pushed against her asshole, making her one with the cross in an entirely new way. She grunted; her arms felt torn. Her body dragged her arms down, yet her hands remained where they were, her wrists below the nail, bending at an unnatural angle. Her arms went nowhere. Her nails hung form, never loosening.

She watched in silence as they placed slats of wood near the hole, hammered her cross once again until it was steady, no rocking back and forth.

She looked out over the crowd, the cameras, she knew her legs were parted, and the world could no doubt see a piece of wood, up her ass.

She was dead. She was truly broken. Alina Banks no longer existed, just another whore, lower than a Roman slave, covered in cum, whip marks, brands and piercings, one with a tree for the amusement of thousands, perhaps millions worldwide.

She shook her head then lifted up to the sky and screamed.

 

[Zephirantes]

The image of Alina preparing her body for the final descent of the cross in the pit is awesome, particularly when she offers her arsehole to be transfixed by the cornu.

Je dis bravo!

 

[Wragg]

Alina wished they would get it over with yet dreaded it as well. She knew where she had been headed, she knew the pain she was in for.

Alina knew it would be hell. Her torture session had taught her her how she really held up under pain. Not well.

The whipping was like fire, the hot irons, actual fire. The humiliation made her wish to die, hope that there was nothing on the other side, pray that there would only be nonexistence so she wouldn’t be a soul roaming heaven or hell with the memories of what she had ben put through, what she had done and what she had craved. Being wiped from existence was not a gift she believed she would be given.

At least she had saved Julie from pain and killed one of her tormentors. With luck she would last long enough to see the rest die.

This was it. Despite the pain in her body, it was the wood she lay on that caught her attention most. It was rugged in a way, and she knew as she rubbed it, splinters would be dug into her already tortured and ruined back. It was huge, and despite her height and impressive physique, she would appear very small on it.

She lay there, staring up at the sky, at the men looking down on her, the hooded men whose cocks she had just sucked in front of the world. She could still taste that cum coating the inside of her mouth and small amounts stuck in her throat.

Her breasts felt so cold, the fire giving way to a freezing feeling where her breasts had been burned. How had they known the underside of her breasts was where she was most sensitive. Visions of Celia, lifting her breasts and her tongue running from underneath to her nipples flashed in her mind before she was brought back to the present by her pain.

She felt a coolness on her belly and raised her head.

The bastard executioner had sat four very long thick nails with huge heads on her abdomen. She nearly pissed seeing that and probably would have if her bladder wasn’t so empty. She couldn’t remember the last time she had food or water.

“Ready?” a deep voice called.

“No, let her experience her new lover slowly.” The hooded man said to the other.

He bent down and picked up one of the nails, running the sharp point over her body. She watched it, wincing as he hit her sensitive parts. She jumped when he pressed it into her belly button then ran it across her body until it touched her nipple rings and then poked the tip of her nipples.

“She is rubbing her legs together. That drug is amazing. It will be fun to ensure she experiences more pain than pleasure.” The one with the nail said. He put the nail onto her clit and lifted her hood and she defintely bucked her hips this time.

“Nail me!” she demanded.

She heard a chuckle from the black hood.

“The whore asked for it. She wants to be put on display for the world. Time to give it to her.”

Alina felt a hand on her right forearm and turned to look at it. She felt a pressure on her chest, leather pants sitting on her. She could hardly breath with him on her.

She felt that tip dig into her soft wrist and winced, Blood was drawn. She thought he would hammer her, not shove it into her slowly.

She gritted her teeth as the heavy man pressed the nail as deep into her as he could. Then he raised the broad, thick, blunt hammer and looked once at her. She would swear by his eyes, he was smiling behind that hood.

The hammer blow was fast, yet she saw it in slow motion. She heard the clink, she felt the nail partially in her wrist driven down, between her bones, smashing tendons and burying itself deeply in the nails.

She had been electrocuted for hours on her most sensitive area. This pain should have been nothing, yet it was somehow the worst she had ever felt. It would have been better if her hand was cut off quickly.

It had begun. She was attached to a wooden cross, one with it. What had been an abstract, something she knew was coming and she thought she had mentally prepared herself for, was suddenly very real. She was going to die and die horribly. There would be no last-minute rescues, her life was ending.

“Please don’t kill me!” she begged loudly but it was too late. It had begun. Another blow and she felt the nail dig deeper into the wood. She wanted to look away, but her eyes refused. It was like watching a train wreck. You knew it was inevitable, there was nothing you could do, and you didn’t want to see the destruction, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of it.

Another blow and the pain shot up her arm and her skull, causing her to scream once again.

The final blow. The moment, the split second that large nail head, pressed into her skin, not flush, but bit into her skin, pinning her forever.

“Kill me. Please, kill me!”

Instead of answering, she watched him move to her other side. A soldier held her arm down and the hooded man began the process again. Despite the pain in her arm, the burn, the unbelievable feeling of being one with this giant structure, she felt the nail being pressed deep into her wrist. This time hs scraped the bone and she opened her mouth, but no sound emerged.

Alina was shaking, her body was somehow cold and hot at the same time. Pain radiated from her wrist to her feet. Her breathing was rapid, and she could feel her racing heart.

He lifted the hammer again and she was able to close her eyes this time.

Until the hammer fell. Her eyes opened wide, and she saw the bloody wound. The nail had defintely scraped bone this time and she wasn’t even able to scream, now feeling on the verge of insanity. This shouldn’t happen. Alina was a warrior, a soldier, the predator. She was supposed to die on the field of battle, not like this.

“Celia!” she finally cried.

Another merciless hammer blow. Another cry. “Mommy! Daddy!”

The blows had reduced her to crying out for help to people who were not there. Her parents had thankfully been dead for years. She prayed Celia was not watching this.

Again, the nail head pushed into her wrist making it clear she was part of the cross. She wouldn’t just be hanging from it. She was it.

She lay still trying to catch her breath. She hadn’t been aware her legs were kicking out. She hadn’t felt anything below the waist as the man sitting on her chest and nailing her arm was her whole world.

Once he stood, she lifted her head and looked past her heaving, pierced breasts, her abdomen singing and rising with her breaths, her hips bones jutting out.

Her ankles were grabbed.

“Spread her ankles out. He wants her cunt shown and we want to make sure the cornu can be seen up whichever hole she picks.”

No, No, No. Not her feet. Give her a pedestal to rest on. She would last longer but she wouldn’t have to experience agonizing pain for every breath.

“Constantine, don’t. Stop this!”

There was no lead up. The nail wasn’t pressed into her foot. Instead, she felt the tip and bucked her hips up, feeling the large nail crushing her foot, splitting her bones. She couldn’t kick her other leg, but her hips did raise. She naturally tried to sit up on the cross, grab her wounds and she arched her back, only to fall back, remined that her arms nor her upper body would never do what she wanted again.

She had no strength to kick out. The speed she had shown killing Tristan was gone, beat out of her when the nail made her one with the wood. The pain was horrendous. For a moment she thought her wrists would tear apart, but the nail heads made sure she went nowhere.

Another blow and she heard screams, begging for mercy, begging for death, begging to be fucked, whipped, burned, anything but this.

At last, the blows stopped. She was in so much pain she couldn’t remember a time she existed without pain.

She gently tried to move her legs and found she couldn’t. There was a bend to them, one that could be greater no doubt when she hung. She pulled on her feet, but they were immovable. She wanted to close her thighs but couldn’t.

Then the executioner began hammering again and she felt every vibration in her body. Why wouldn’t she? He wasn’t hammering the cross, he was hammering her. She was part of this now.

She looked down past her breasts as much as possible. She saw a cameraman with a camera between her legs and saw a blunt tip of wood.

Cornu. She could avoid it if she wanted, stretching herself so it dug onto her back. That would be a short-term solution. She had no doubt it would not kill her. The tip was blunt, and she suspected short, not designed to tear inside her but to give her a slight rest and something to rub herself against, something to relieve the pain when she was tired of raising herself. Not that she would ever be without pain again.

No, it wasn’t enough for her to hang beaten and bloodied in front of the world. She had to be fucked as well.

The lifting was a surreal experience. She was moving, almost flying, her view of the world changing. She saw people, Romans, cheering. Men, women of all ages were leering at her. As her view righted itself, she yelled out as her body began to drop, her burning back and ass sliding down the rough wood. Splinters were digging in, her legs were dropping, the beck of her thighs hitting her calve muscles and the damn cornu! It was in the worst place possible. Its tip was just between her pussy and asshole.

She instinctively spread her legs and looked between them at the ground. There was a hole, the exact dimensions of her cross, her final lover.

Alina knew what was coming and made a split-second decision. She lined her asshole to the tip of the cornu.

Landing in the hole was a pain of a different type all together. Her legs slammed completely at a ninety-degree angle, and the cornu pushed against her asshole, making her one with the cross in an entirely new way. She grunted; her arms felt torn. Her body dragged her arms down, yet her hands remained where they were, her wrists below the nail, bending at an unnatural angle. Her arms went nowhere. Her nails hung form, never loosening.

She watched in silence as they placed slats of wood near the hole, hammered her cross once again until it was steady, no rocking back and forth.

She looked out over the crowd, the cameras, she knew her legs were parted, and the world could no doubt see a piece of wood, up her ass.

She was dead. She was truly broken. Alina Banks no longer existed, just another whore, lower than a Roman slave, covered in cum, whip marks, brands and piercings, one with a tree for the amusement of thousands, perhaps millions worldwide.

She shook her head then lifted up to the sky and screamed.

Extremely well written!, Tygavin! Bravo from me, too!

 

[tygavin]

Alina tried to find a position that was free of pain but quickly gave up. She had seen these before, read about them, studied them. She knew crucifixion was hell. There was no relief from pain. A cornu couldn’t be avoided. Her bodyweight placed pressure on her arms, her shoulders, her legs. Her feet and wrists were unbearable, and she couldn’t move her hands or even wiggle her toes.

She was determined to hang as long as possible. She knew she would eventually dance, eventually begin fucking her ass on the cornu in front of the crowd but the less she rose and fell, the less entertainment she was for them.

The wood on her back was terrible. She had picked up giant splinters on her way down. The red stripes on her body had not gone away and the fresh burns on her body were flaming up once again.

She tried to keep her eyes down, taking in her body, looking at the dusty ground but eventually looked up like a moth drawn to a flame.

The crowd was breathtaking. So many voices, cheering, booing, pointing at her, discussing her body, the wounds and the cum spread over her, her once beautiful hair having been used for a cum towel so often, it was like an old wet dirty mop that had been left on the ground to dry. It was brittle and would probably break if grabbed hard enough.

She had never felt so exposed and doubted anyone who had never been on a cross would. She had worn a very small bikini once to a camp pool party and felt self-conscious the entire time, wearing a robe for most of the party.

This was so much more. Here she hung, unable to stop groaning, a wooden dildo up her ass, arms spread wide, legs apart and unable to hide the only part of her that was not feeling pain, but instead was wet. In a way that was so much worse. She had been defiled in the worst way imaginable and been forced to like it, or at least her body had.

She shook her head though, trying to be honest with herself. She had never been attracted to men, but she had enjoyed fucking Constantine. It disgusted her, but it was true. The female slave had been kind and was very pretty, but she only did what she did for show, to save Julie pain.

Fucking her worst enemy was another story. Was it because he was her worst enemy? Or maybe because she knew she had no choice to give into him, so she just allowed herself to do so and wound-up clinging to that physical passion she had missed so much. She had always been the dominant in her relationships. Celia had always been so timid. Since she had killed Nero, she had been under the control of one man. She had been raped and tortured by many, but it was all one man.

And the first chance she had; she gave into him. She didn’t even hesitate to suck his cock. And when he told her to kiss him back with passion, she told herself it was a lie. She had no choice but to make it real. Did it have to feel so damn good? Was this who she was at her core? A woman who wanted to be dominated.

Alina had fought for so long. She fought her entire life it seemed. She was constantly proving herself, improving herself, being the best at everything, driven by her desire to win, whether it be checkers or war.

Now, at the end, the game was over. She had lost and all she had to do was get lost in the pain. Pain was her world now.

The people who were watching her die with joy. What was wrong with these people? There were families here as if this were some kind of circus. Is this the world the Romans would have if they ruled? Were they truly the worst of humanity?

The answer was of course they were. The Roman Empire had declined on its own thanks to poor leadership, economy and inability to hold an empire together as the world changed around them, but towards the end, the Barbarians were truly at the gate. The Romans after forcing so many into subservience, got what they deserved.

During World War two, Mussolini’s Italy had fallen to the Allied Forces.

This Empire would fall to the United European Countries. Thanks to a technical marvel that gave them superiority over conquered lands Rome had once again outgrown and overestimated themselves. The people were so ready to believe they would inherit the Earth, that Romans were the true destined leader.

Alina had killed so many of them and never regretted a single kill. She hated them as much as they hated her people.

She couldn’t take it any longer. She felt as if her chest was crushing in. She groaned as she forced more pressure on her feet, rising up, the cornu sliding out of her ass like a cock leaving it, the rough wood scratching her torn back. When she reached the top, as far as her legs would take her, she took huge gulps of air as if she would never breath again. How she wished that were true.

“Citizens of Rome, the European slut’s dance has begun!” she heard Constantine shout over a speaker. Fresh cheers rose. She felt even more exposed. Nothing was hidden and she was even higher on the cross. Her body was no doubt shaking.

Then her image appeared on one of the huge monitors and she thought for a moment she was watching someone else.

If defilement and torture were beauty, she would be a goddess.

The pain became too much, and she slid back down, the point of the cornu hitting between her pussy and ass, so she shifted and squirmed, basically grinding her ass and ensuring it was fucked, to the delight of the crowd.

A guard came forward and she stiffened, thinking the long stick on his hands was a hot iron.

The close he came the more she understood. A large black dildo was on a tall stick.

“Please no.” she whispered but knew even if she were louder, it would do no good. She thought she felt a poke somewhere around her right ass cheek but couldn’t be sure.

She could be sure of the burning pool of desire between her legs and was grateful she decided to allow the cornu up her ass. IF she hadn’t, she would be rubbing her pussy raw, trying to fuck the wood. Even now every little movement inside her from the wood made her shiver a bit, kept her wet.

She hadn’t expected him to be gentle, yet he was. He worked it into her slowly and she understood why quickly. He was teasing her, making her want it more and more until she was bucking her hips, trying to get the dildo inside her.

After a groan of frustration, he finally gave her what she craved. She hung, barely breathing, in immense pain yet all she could focus on was the rubber stick inside her.

The crowd roared when she came, like she had just scored a goal. The cameras focused on her ass clenching, her hips bucking and the juices that erupted out of her. Her thighs were slick with not only sweat but her own fluids. Her clit was engorged.

Alina had nothing anymore. Pleasure, pain, it was all in someone else’s hands. In a way it was freeing. As she accepted the pain, she began to realize how much simpler her life had been made. No more choices, no more proving herself. She could rest. She was a living, slowly dying body who existed for the entertainment of others.

Time continued but she was not sure how long. She had watched guards come and go. The crowds eventually filtered from the stands and walked very close to her in a line, getting a good look but not allowed to touch. A few spit on her but Alina didn’t see the point. Did these idiots truly believe that they could hurt her with saliva?

The sun set and rose and set again. She had been fucked often on the cross but the last time she had been unable to orgasm or feel anything in her pelvis area. Her ass had become so used to the cornu she wasn’t sure what it would feel like for any amount of time without it. People talked about her, but the crowds didn’t show in force. Even the cameramen became bored.

Even Constantine had left.

Until the morning of the third day.

She had dozed somewhere in the night. It was harder for her to rise up, her breath was shallow, and she was phasing in and out of consciousness.

“You are close to death.” He told her as if she didn’t know it.

She didn’t bother answering. She didn’t have to. Before he could say anything else, a soldier ran to him and whispered in his ear.

Constantine paled. “That isn’t possible. We have no control over the defense network. Missile defense, satellites. Our system should be impenetrable.”

“We have lost the western and eastern fronts to invasion. We are hearing reports of UC bombers near Rome. We need to evacuate you sire. We have to leave Rome. They have broken our lines!”

Alina managed to laugh. “Not going to have much of a Roman empire without Rome, will you, Emperor?”

Constantine looked at her and shoved the soldier away. The soldier ran.

“What did you do?”

Alina managed to gather enough saliva to spit in the dirt at his feet.

“You checked my pussy and ass, but you never checked my teeth. I knew you would shock me, make me swallow cum. Our tech guys made sure it was very insulated then glued it behind a molar. Since I have been here, it has been taking your wireless signals from your palace computer and sending them to my people. As soon as they figured out a way to beat your system, they would send another signal through my data transmitter to deliver a virus to your entire defense network. If you had killed me in a day and burned my body, we wouldn’t have had time. You Romans like your shows though.”

“That’s impossible. The power that would take…”

“It began killing me the moment it was inserted and started transmitting. I never planned to get out of this alive. I would be dead in another week regardless of what you did to me.”

Bomb sirens began blaring in the city, then several explosions.

Constantine looked around in a panic.

“I told them to drop a bomb on my location. I suspected you would be with me. Don’t run, Constantine. Even if you do escape, they will crucify you. You will be considered a war criminal. Even if they don’t crucify you, they will rape you and hang you nude. Its over. I win.”

Alina turned her head to the sky and grinned. To those who knew her they would never recognize her. She was a bloody, dirty skeleton, hanging from a tree.

“Look Constantine. Her comes our bomb. When we get to hell, we will be on even ground. We shall see which of us is truly better.”

Constantine turned and saw the bomber she was talking about. He heard the whine of the missile, saw the wall of fire and heard her broken, bitter laugh. He screamed when the wall of flame engulfed them, bringing to end the last Roman Emperor and his Empire.

The End

 

[nicole]

Alina tried to find a position that was free of pain but quickly gave up. She had seen these before, read about them, studied them. She knew crucifixion was hell. There was no relief from pain. A cornu couldn’t be avoided. Her bodyweight placed pressure on her arms, her shoulders, her legs. Her feet and wrists were unbearable, and she couldn’t move her hands or even wiggle her toes.

She was determined to hang as long as possible. She knew she would eventually dance, eventually begin fucking her ass on the cornu in front of the crowd but the less she rose and fell, the less entertainment she was for them.

The wood on her back was terrible. She had picked up giant splinters on her way down. The red stripes on her body had not gone away and the fresh burns on her body were flaming up once again.

She tried to keep her eyes down, taking in her body, looking at the dusty ground but eventually looked up like a moth drawn to a flame.

The crowd was breathtaking. So many voices, cheering, booing, pointing at her, discussing her body, the wounds and the cum spread over her, her once beautiful hair having been used for a cum towel so often, it was like an old wet dirty mop that had been left on the ground to dry. It was brittle and would probably break if grabbed hard enough.

She had never felt so exposed and doubted anyone who had never been on a cross would. She had worn a very small bikini once to a camp pool party and felt self-conscious the entire time, wearing a robe for most of the party.

This was so much more. Here she hung, unable to stop groaning, a wooden dildo up her ass, arms spread wide, legs apart and unable to hide the only part of her that was not feeling pain, but instead was wet. In a way that was so much worse. She had been defiled in the worst way imaginable and been forced to like it, or at least her body had.

She shook her head though, trying to be honest with herself. She had never been attracted to men, but she had enjoyed fucking Constantine. It disgusted her, but it was true. The female slave had been kind and was very pretty, but she only did what she did for show, to save Julie pain.

Fucking her worst enemy was another story. Was it because he was her worst enemy? Or maybe because she knew she had no choice to give into him, so she just allowed herself to do so and wound-up clinging to that physical passion she had missed so much. She had always been the dominant in her relationships. Celia had always been so timid. Since she had killed Nero, she had been under the control of one man. She had been raped and tortured by many, but it was all one man.

And the first chance she had; she gave into him. She didn’t even hesitate to suck his cock. And when he told her to kiss him back with passion, she told herself it was a lie. She had no choice but to make it real. Did it have to feel so damn good? Was this who she was at her core? A woman who wanted to be dominated.

Alina had fought for so long. She fought her entire life it seemed. She was constantly proving herself, improving herself, being the best at everything, driven by her desire to win, whether it be checkers or war.

Now, at the end, the game was over. She had lost and all she had to do was get lost in the pain. Pain was her world now.

The people who were watching her die with joy. What was wrong with these people? There were families here as if this were some kind of circus. Is this the world the Romans would have if they ruled? Were they truly the worst of humanity?

The answer was of course they were. The Roman Empire had declined on its own thanks to poor leadership, economy and inability to hold an empire together as the world changed around them, but towards the end, the Barbarians were truly at the gate. The Romans after forcing so many into subservience, got what they deserved.

During World War two, Mussolini’s Italy had fallen to the Allied Forces.

This Empire would fall to the United European Countries. Thanks to a technical marvel that gave them superiority over conquered lands Rome had once again outgrown and overestimated themselves. The people were so ready to believe they would inherit the Earth, that Romans were the true destined leader.

Alina had killed so many of them and never regretted a single kill. She hated them as much as they hated her people.

She couldn’t take it any longer. She felt as if her chest was crushing in. She groaned as she forced more pressure on her feet, rising up, the cornu sliding out of her ass like a cock leaving it, the rough wood scratching her torn back. When she reached the top, as far as her legs would take her, she took huge gulps of air as if she would never breath again. How she wished that were true.

“Citizens of Rome, the European slut’s dance has begun!” she heard Constantine shout over a speaker. Fresh cheers rose. She felt even more exposed. Nothing was hidden and she was even higher on the cross. Her body was no doubt shaking.

Then her image appeared on one of the huge monitors and she thought for a moment she was watching someone else.

If defilement and torture were beauty, she would be a goddess.

The pain became too much, and she slid back down, the point of the cornu hitting between her pussy and ass, so she shifted and squirmed, basically grinding her ass and ensuring it was fucked, to the delight of the crowd.

A guard came forward and she stiffened, thinking the long stick on his hands was a hot iron.

The close he came the more she understood. A large black dildo was on a tall stick.

“Please no.” she whispered but knew even if she were louder, it would do no good. She thought she felt a poke somewhere around her right ass cheek but couldn’t be sure.

She could be sure of the burning pool of desire between her legs and was grateful she decided to allow the cornu up her ass. IF she hadn’t, she would be rubbing her pussy raw, trying to fuck the wood. Even now every little movement inside her from the wood made her shiver a bit, kept her wet.

She hadn’t expected him to be gentle, yet he was. He worked it into her slowly and she understood why quickly. He was teasing her, making her want it more and more until she was bucking her hips, trying to get the dildo inside her.

After a groan of frustration, he finally gave her what she craved. She hung, barely breathing, in immense pain yet all she could focus on was the rubber stick inside her.

The crowd roared when she came, like she had just scored a goal. The cameras focused on her ass clenching, her hips bucking and the juices that erupted out of her. Her thighs were slick with not only sweat but her own fluids. Her clit was engorged.

Alina had nothing anymore. Pleasure, pain, it was all in someone else’s hands. In a way it was freeing. As she accepted the pain, she began to realize how much simpler her life had been made. No more choices, no more proving herself. She could rest. She was a living, slowly dying body who existed for the entertainment of others.

Time continued but she was not sure how long. She had watched guards come and go. The crowds eventually filtered from the stands and walked very close to her in a line, getting a good look but not allowed to touch. A few spit on her but Alina didn’t see the point. Did these idiots truly believe that they could hurt her with saliva?

The sun set and rose and set again. She had been fucked often on the cross but the last time she had been unable to orgasm or feel anything in her pelvis area. Her ass had become so used to the cornu she wasn’t sure what it would feel like for any amount of time without it. People talked about her, but the crowds didn’t show in force. Even the cameramen became bored.

Even Constantine had left.

Until the morning of the third day.

She had dozed somewhere in the night. It was harder for her to rise up, her breath was shallow, and she was phasing in and out of consciousness.

“You are close to death.” He told her as if she didn’t know it.

She didn’t bother answering. She didn’t have to. Before he could say anything else, a soldier ran to him and whispered in his ear.

Constantine paled. “That isn’t possible. We have no control over the defense network. Missile defense, satellites. Our system should be impenetrable.”

“We have lost the western and eastern fronts to invasion. We are hearing reports of UC bombers near Rome. We need to evacuate you sire. We have to leave Rome. They have broken our lines!”

Alina managed to laugh. “Not going to have much of a Roman empire without Rome, will you, Emperor?”

Constantine looked at her and shoved the soldier away. The soldier ran.

“What did you do?”

Alina managed to gather enough saliva to spit in the dirt at his feet.

“You checked my pussy and ass, but you never checked my teeth. I knew you would shock me, make me swallow cum. Our tech guys made sure it was very insulated then glued it behind a molar. Since I have been here, it has been taking your wireless signals from your palace computer and sending them to my people. As soon as they figured out a way to beat your system, they would send another signal through my data transmitter to deliver a virus to your entire defense network. If you had killed me in a day and burned my body, we wouldn’t have had time. You Romans like your shows though.”

“That’s impossible. The power that would take…”

“It began killing me the moment it was inserted and started transmitting. I never planned to get out of this alive. I would be dead in another week regardless of what you did to me.”

Bomb sirens began blaring in the city, then several explosions.

Constantine looked around in a panic.

“I told them to drop a bomb on my location. I suspected you would be with me. Don’t run, Constantine. Even if you do escape, they will crucify you. You will be considered a war criminal. Even if they don’t crucify you, they will rape you and hang you nude. Its over. I win.”

Alina turned her head to the sky and grinned. To those who knew her they would never recognize her. She was a bloody, dirty skeleton, hanging from a tree.

“Look Constantine. Her comes our bomb. When we get to hell, we will be on even ground. We shall see which of us is truly better.”

Constantine turned and saw the bomber she was talking about. He heard the whine of the missile, saw the wall of fire and heard her broken, bitter laugh. He screamed when the wall of flame engulfed them, bringing to end the last Roman Emperor and his Empire.

The End

great story, very exciting, a brave woman and an unexpected end

 

[tygavin]

great story, very exciting, a brave woman and an unexpected end

Thank you!

 

[Hagbard]

Really great story! I enjoyed it immensely and can’t wait to see more from you! Wonderful!

 

[Wragg]

Alina tried to find a position that was free of pain but quickly gave up. She had seen these before, read about them, studied them. She knew crucifixion was hell. There was no relief from pain. A cornu couldn’t be avoided. Her bodyweight placed pressure on her arms, her shoulders, her legs. Her feet and wrists were unbearable, and she couldn’t move her hands or even wiggle her toes.

She was determined to hang as long as possible. She knew she would eventually dance, eventually begin fucking her ass on the cornu in front of the crowd but the less she rose and fell, the less entertainment she was for them.

The wood on her back was terrible. She had picked up giant splinters on her way down. The red stripes on her body had not gone away and the fresh burns on her body were flaming up once again.

She tried to keep her eyes down, taking in her body, looking at the dusty ground but eventually looked up like a moth drawn to a flame.

The crowd was breathtaking. So many voices, cheering, booing, pointing at her, discussing her body, the wounds and the cum spread over her, her once beautiful hair having been used for a cum towel so often, it was like an old wet dirty mop that had been left on the ground to dry. It was brittle and would probably break if grabbed hard enough.

She had never felt so exposed and doubted anyone who had never been on a cross would. She had worn a very small bikini once to a camp pool party and felt self-conscious the entire time, wearing a robe for most of the party.

This was so much more. Here she hung, unable to stop groaning, a wooden dildo up her ass, arms spread wide, legs apart and unable to hide the only part of her that was not feeling pain, but instead was wet. In a way that was so much worse. She had been defiled in the worst way imaginable and been forced to like it, or at least her body had.

She shook her head though, trying to be honest with herself. She had never been attracted to men, but she had enjoyed fucking Constantine. It disgusted her, but it was true. The female slave had been kind and was very pretty, but she only did what she did for show, to save Julie pain.

Fucking her worst enemy was another story. Was it because he was her worst enemy? Or maybe because she knew she had no choice to give into him, so she just allowed herself to do so and wound-up clinging to that physical passion she had missed so much. She had always been the dominant in her relationships. Celia had always been so timid. Since she had killed Nero, she had been under the control of one man. She had been raped and tortured by many, but it was all one man.

And the first chance she had; she gave into him. She didn’t even hesitate to suck his cock. And when he told her to kiss him back with passion, she told herself it was a lie. She had no choice but to make it real. Did it have to feel so damn good? Was this who she was at her core? A woman who wanted to be dominated.

Alina had fought for so long. She fought her entire life it seemed. She was constantly proving herself, improving herself, being the best at everything, driven by her desire to win, whether it be checkers or war.

Now, at the end, the game was over. She had lost and all she had to do was get lost in the pain. Pain was her world now.

The people who were watching her die with joy. What was wrong with these people? There were families here as if this were some kind of circus. Is this the world the Romans would have if they ruled? Were they truly the worst of humanity?

The answer was of course they were. The Roman Empire had declined on its own thanks to poor leadership, economy and inability to hold an empire together as the world changed around them, but towards the end, the Barbarians were truly at the gate. The Romans after forcing so many into subservience, got what they deserved.

During World War two, Mussolini’s Italy had fallen to the Allied Forces.

This Empire would fall to the United European Countries. Thanks to a technical marvel that gave them superiority over conquered lands Rome had once again outgrown and overestimated themselves. The people were so ready to believe they would inherit the Earth, that Romans were the true destined leader.

Alina had killed so many of them and never regretted a single kill. She hated them as much as they hated her people.

She couldn’t take it any longer. She felt as if her chest was crushing in. She groaned as she forced more pressure on her feet, rising up, the cornu sliding out of her ass like a cock leaving it, the rough wood scratching her torn back. When she reached the top, as far as her legs would take her, she took huge gulps of air as if she would never breath again. How she wished that were true.

“Citizens of Rome, the European slut’s dance has begun!” she heard Constantine shout over a speaker. Fresh cheers rose. She felt even more exposed. Nothing was hidden and she was even higher on the cross. Her body was no doubt shaking.

Then her image appeared on one of the huge monitors and she thought for a moment she was watching someone else.

If defilement and torture were beauty, she would be a goddess.

The pain became too much, and she slid back down, the point of the cornu hitting between her pussy and ass, so she shifted and squirmed, basically grinding her ass and ensuring it was fucked, to the delight of the crowd.

A guard came forward and she stiffened, thinking the long stick on his hands was a hot iron.

The close he came the more she understood. A large black dildo was on a tall stick.

“Please no.” she whispered but knew even if she were louder, it would do no good. She thought she felt a poke somewhere around her right ass cheek but couldn’t be sure.

She could be sure of the burning pool of desire between her legs and was grateful she decided to allow the cornu up her ass. IF she hadn’t, she would be rubbing her pussy raw, trying to fuck the wood. Even now every little movement inside her from the wood made her shiver a bit, kept her wet.

She hadn’t expected him to be gentle, yet he was. He worked it into her slowly and she understood why quickly. He was teasing her, making her want it more and more until she was bucking her hips, trying to get the dildo inside her.

After a groan of frustration, he finally gave her what she craved. She hung, barely breathing, in immense pain yet all she could focus on was the rubber stick inside her.

The crowd roared when she came, like she had just scored a goal. The cameras focused on her ass clenching, her hips bucking and the juices that erupted out of her. Her thighs were slick with not only sweat but her own fluids. Her clit was engorged.

Alina had nothing anymore. Pleasure, pain, it was all in someone else’s hands. In a way it was freeing. As she accepted the pain, she began to realize how much simpler her life had been made. No more choices, no more proving herself. She could rest. She was a living, slowly dying body who existed for the entertainment of others.

Time continued but she was not sure how long. She had watched guards come and go. The crowds eventually filtered from the stands and walked very close to her in a line, getting a good look but not allowed to touch. A few spit on her but Alina didn’t see the point. Did these idiots truly believe that they could hurt her with saliva?

The sun set and rose and set again. She had been fucked often on the cross but the last time she had been unable to orgasm or feel anything in her pelvis area. Her ass had become so used to the cornu she wasn’t sure what it would feel like for any amount of time without it. People talked about her, but the crowds didn’t show in force. Even the cameramen became bored.

Even Constantine had left.

Until the morning of the third day.

She had dozed somewhere in the night. It was harder for her to rise up, her breath was shallow, and she was phasing in and out of consciousness.

“You are close to death.” He told her as if she didn’t know it.

She didn’t bother answering. She didn’t have to. Before he could say anything else, a soldier ran to him and whispered in his ear.

Constantine paled. “That isn’t possible. We have no control over the defense network. Missile defense, satellites. Our system should be impenetrable.”

“We have lost the western and eastern fronts to invasion. We are hearing reports of UC bombers near Rome. We need to evacuate you sire. We have to leave Rome. They have broken our lines!”

Alina managed to laugh. “Not going to have much of a Roman empire without Rome, will you, Emperor?”

Constantine looked at her and shoved the soldier away. The soldier ran.

“What did you do?”

Alina managed to gather enough saliva to spit in the dirt at his feet.

“You checked my pussy and ass, but you never checked my teeth. I knew you would shock me, make me swallow cum. Our tech guys made sure it was very insulated then glued it behind a molar. Since I have been here, it has been taking your wireless signals from your palace computer and sending them to my people. As soon as they figured out a way to beat your system, they would send another signal through my data transmitter to deliver a virus to your entire defense network. If you had killed me in a day and burned my body, we wouldn’t have had time. You Romans like your shows though.”

“That’s impossible. The power that would take…”

“It began killing me the moment it was inserted and started transmitting. I never planned to get out of this alive. I would be dead in another week regardless of what you did to me.”

Bomb sirens began blaring in the city, then several explosions.

Constantine looked around in a panic.

“I told them to drop a bomb on my location. I suspected you would be with me. Don’t run, Constantine. Even if you do escape, they will crucify you. You will be considered a war criminal. Even if they don’t crucify you, they will rape you and hang you nude. Its over. I win.”

Alina turned her head to the sky and grinned. To those who knew her they would never recognize her. She was a bloody, dirty skeleton, hanging from a tree.

“Look Constantine. Her comes our bomb. When we get to hell, we will be on even ground. We shall see which of us is truly better.”

Constantine turned and saw the bomber she was talking about. He heard the whine of the missile, saw the wall of fire and heard her broken, bitter laugh. He screamed when the wall of flame engulfed them, bringing to end the last Roman Emperor and his Empire.

The End

Good ending, I love it when the bastards get their come-uppance!

A laser guided bomb homing in on the signal from a crucified woman's tooth is, I think, a Cruxforums first!

 

[Madiosi]

At only thirty-five, she had been fast tracked to General and all suspected she would be the superior general in charge of all United Countries forces before she was forty. She was a warrior, and the biggest threat to New Rome. She was also the face of the army.

 

[Blue]

Alina wished they would get it over with yet dreaded it as well. She knew where she had been headed, she knew the pain she was in for.

Alina knew it would be hell. Her torture session had taught her her how she really held up under pain. Not well.

The whipping was like fire, the hot irons, actual fire. The humiliation made her wish to die, hope that there was nothing on the other side, pray that there would only be nonexistence so she wouldn’t be a soul roaming heaven or hell with the memories of what she had ben put through, what she had done and what she had craved. Being wiped from existence was not a gift she believed she would be given.

At least she had saved Julie from pain and killed one of her tormentors. With luck she would last long enough to see the rest die.

This was it. Despite the pain in her body, it was the wood she lay on that caught her attention most. It was rugged in a way, and she knew as she rubbed it, splinters would be dug into her already tortured and ruined back. It was huge, and despite her height and impressive physique, she would appear very small on it.

She lay there, staring up at the sky, at the men looking down on her, the hooded men whose cocks she had just sucked in front of the world. She could still taste that cum coating the inside of her mouth and small amounts stuck in her throat.

Her breasts felt so cold, the fire giving way to a freezing feeling where her breasts had been burned. How had they known the underside of her breasts was where she was most sensitive. Visions of Celia, lifting her breasts and her tongue running from underneath to her nipples flashed in her mind before she was brought back to the present by her pain.

She felt a coolness on her belly and raised her head.

The bastard executioner had sat four very long thick nails with huge heads on her abdomen. She nearly pissed seeing that and probably would have if her bladder wasn’t so empty. She couldn’t remember the last time she had food or water.

“Ready?” a deep voice called.

“No, let her experience her new lover slowly.” The hooded man said to the other.

He bent down and picked up one of the nails, running the sharp point over her body. She watched it, wincing as he hit her sensitive parts. She jumped when he pressed it into her belly button then ran it across her body until it touched her nipple rings and then poked the tip of her nipples.

“She is rubbing her legs together. That drug is amazing. It will be fun to ensure she experiences more pain than pleasure.” The one with the nail said. He put the nail onto her clit and lifted her hood and she defintely bucked her hips this time.

“Nail me!” she demanded.

She heard a chuckle from the black hood.

“The whore asked for it. She wants to be put on display for the world. Time to give it to her.”

Alina felt a hand on her right forearm and turned to look at it. She felt a pressure on her chest, leather pants sitting on her. She could hardly breath with him on her.

She felt that tip dig into her soft wrist and winced, Blood was drawn. She thought he would hammer her, not shove it into her slowly.

She gritted her teeth as the heavy man pressed the nail as deep into her as he could. Then he raised the broad, thick, blunt hammer and looked once at her. She would swear by his eyes, he was smiling behind that hood.

The hammer blow was fast, yet she saw it in slow motion. She heard the clink, she felt the nail partially in her wrist driven down, between her bones, smashing tendons and burying itself deeply in the nails.

She had been electrocuted for hours on her most sensitive area. This pain should have been nothing, yet it was somehow the worst she had ever felt. It would have been better if her hand was cut off quickly.

It had begun. She was attached to a wooden cross, one with it. What had been an abstract, something she knew was coming and she thought she had mentally prepared herself for, was suddenly very real. She was going to die and die horribly. There would be no last-minute rescues, her life was ending.

“Please don’t kill me!” she begged loudly but it was too late. It had begun. Another blow and she felt the nail dig deeper into the wood. She wanted to look away, but her eyes refused. It was like watching a train wreck. You knew it was inevitable, there was nothing you could do, and you didn’t want to see the destruction, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of it.

Another blow and the pain shot up her arm and her skull, causing her to scream once again.

The final blow. The moment, the split second that large nail head, pressed into her skin, not flush, but bit into her skin, pinning her forever.

“Kill me. Please, kill me!”

Instead of answering, she watched him move to her other side. A soldier held her arm down and the hooded man began the process again. Despite the pain in her arm, the burn, the unbelievable feeling of being one with this giant structure, she felt the nail being pressed deep into her wrist. This time hs scraped the bone and she opened her mouth, but no sound emerged.

Alina was shaking, her body was somehow cold and hot at the same time. Pain radiated from her wrist to her feet. Her breathing was rapid, and she could feel her racing heart.

He lifted the hammer again and she was able to close her eyes this time.

Until the hammer fell. Her eyes opened wide, and she saw the bloody wound. The nail had defintely scraped bone this time and she wasn’t even able to scream, now feeling on the verge of insanity. This shouldn’t happen. Alina was a warrior, a soldier, the predator. She was supposed to die on the field of battle, not like this.

“Celia!” she finally cried.

Another merciless hammer blow. Another cry. “Mommy! Daddy!”

The blows had reduced her to crying out for help to people who were not there. Her parents had thankfully been dead for years. She prayed Celia was not watching this.

Again, the nail head pushed into her wrist making it clear she was part of the cross. She wouldn’t just be hanging from it. She was it.

She lay still trying to catch her breath. She hadn’t been aware her legs were kicking out. She hadn’t felt anything below the waist as the man sitting on her chest and nailing her arm was her whole world.

Once he stood, she lifted her head and looked past her heaving, pierced breasts, her abdomen singing and rising with her breaths, her hips bones jutting out.

Her ankles were grabbed.

“Spread her ankles out. He wants her cunt shown and we want to make sure the cornu can be seen up whichever hole she picks.”

No, No, No. Not her feet. Give her a pedestal to rest on. She would last longer but she wouldn’t have to experience agonizing pain for every breath.

“Constantine, don’t. Stop this!”

There was no lead up. The nail wasn’t pressed into her foot. Instead, she felt the tip and bucked her hips up, feeling the large nail crushing her foot, splitting her bones. She couldn’t kick her other leg, but her hips did raise. She naturally tried to sit up on the cross, grab her wounds and she arched her back, only to fall back, remined that her arms nor her upper body would never do what she wanted again.

She had no strength to kick out. The speed she had shown killing Tristan was gone, beat out of her when the nail made her one with the wood. The pain was horrendous. For a moment she thought her wrists would tear apart, but the nail heads made sure she went nowhere.

Another blow and she heard screams, begging for mercy, begging for death, begging to be fucked, whipped, burned, anything but this.

At last, the blows stopped. She was in so much pain she couldn’t remember a time she existed without pain.

She gently tried to move her legs and found she couldn’t. There was a bend to them, one that could be greater no doubt when she hung. She pulled on her feet, but they were immovable. She wanted to close her thighs but couldn’t.

Then the executioner began hammering again and she felt every vibration in her body. Why wouldn’t she? He wasn’t hammering the cross, he was hammering her. She was part of this now.

She looked down past her breasts as much as possible. She saw a cameraman with a camera between her legs and saw a blunt tip of wood.

Cornu. She could avoid it if she wanted, stretching herself so it dug onto her back. That would be a short-term solution. She had no doubt it would not kill her. The tip was blunt, and she suspected short, not designed to tear inside her but to give her a slight rest and something to rub herself against, something to relieve the pain when she was tired of raising herself. Not that she would ever be without pain again.

No, it wasn’t enough for her to hang beaten and bloodied in front of the world. She had to be fucked as well.

The lifting was a surreal experience. She was moving, almost flying, her view of the world changing. She saw people, Romans, cheering. Men, women of all ages were leering at her. As her view righted itself, she yelled out as her body began to drop, her burning back and ass sliding down the rough wood. Splinters were digging in, her legs were dropping, the beck of her thighs hitting her calve muscles and the damn cornu! It was in the worst place possible. Its tip was just between her pussy and asshole.

She instinctively spread her legs and looked between them at the ground. There was a hole, the exact dimensions of her cross, her final lover.

Alina knew what was coming and made a split-second decision. She lined her asshole to the tip of the cornu.

Landing in the hole was a pain of a different type all together. Her legs slammed completely at a ninety-degree angle, and the cornu pushed against her asshole, making her one with the cross in an entirely new way. She grunted; her arms felt torn. Her body dragged her arms down, yet her hands remained where they were, her wrists below the nail, bending at an unnatural angle. Her arms went nowhere. Her nails hung form, never loosening.

She watched in silence as they placed slats of wood near the hole, hammered her cross once again until it was steady, no rocking back and forth.

She looked out over the crowd, the cameras, she knew her legs were parted, and the world could no doubt see a piece of wood, up her ass.

She was dead. She was truly broken. Alina Banks no longer existed, just another whore, lower than a Roman slave, covered in cum, whip marks, brands and piercings, one with a tree for the amusement of thousands, perhaps millions worldwide.

She shook her head then lifted up to the sky and screamed.

A great nailing scene! Bravo @tygavin

 

[Madiosi]

She was helped into the back of a van with no windows. Inside there were benches on both sides and she sat on the cold metal seat, hunched over, in a futile attempt to protect her modesty.

 

[Madiosi]

Alina clenched her teeth and took short, deep breaths. She prepared herself as much as possible but was unable to contain a scream when the four-inch-tall cross was branded permanently to her skin, marking her as condemned.

Manip by @fumetto

 

[Madiosi]

Alina lay still, wondering if this were some kind of rack and keeping her mind off the searing flesh that marked her as property of Rome.

 

[Madiosi]

Constantine walked to the detention level and found her doing pushups. He took a moment to admire her, the way her shoulders rippled, her firm breasts swayed, and her ass flexed every time she rose.