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Crucified males

Go to CruxDreams.com
Men's anatomy is designed to make us look vulnerable & ridiculous.
Hm, not sure if I can follow you there. I don't think that a nice erect cock is looking vulnerable or ridiculous.
I think you are reflecting here more the fear to look ridiculous in comparison...

And obviously men get vulnerable if the erection is lost, and be it only because he focusses so much on his partner that there is momentary little room for own arousal (at least bodily)
 
Phlebas, I hope you don't mind but as it's Saturday & not much to do I played around with your picture. I just wanted to see what would happen without the rather confusing buildings. The image you posted is too pixelated to make any more than a sketched idea. I really like your original (so did Carmencrux I remember!) I think it worth you doing some more work on it when you have time.
 

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I'm pressed against the trunk, and, lowering my head, I see my feet soon to be nailed, in turn,​
on the wooden block placed at the foot of the cross.
acr39.JPG acr39b.JPG
The nails penetrate my flesh, tearing my muscles and discarding the bones of my feet,​
in terrible pangs that go back to my sex.
Blood spurts and runs down on my feet, and between my toes.
The nails come in turn to crash into the wood. My feet are finally fixed.​
 
Phlebas, I hope you don't mind but as it's Saturday & not much to do I played around with your picture. I just wanted to see what would happen without the rather confusing buildings. The image you posted is too pixelated to make any more than a sketched idea. I really like your original (so did Carmencrux I remember!) I think it worth you doing some more work on it when you have time.

I'd say you did a remarkably good job, PhilX, nice work.
 
Now I'm crucified. This is the best time of my agony.
My body naked and scourged is nailed to the cross, offered at the sight of everyone,​
in a terrible ordeal, but also in a sort of supreme enjoyment.​
acr40.JPG
My death throes began, alternating positions.
Turn by turn, pushing my legs to relieve my hands, or stooping my knees , leaving me hanging by my arms,​
to relieve my feet. But in this case, this is my breathing that becomes difficult.
acr41.JPG
I'm panting. My body writhes on the cross, in a kind of deadly dance.
Joy and pleasure mingle with throbbing of my wounds.
To try to breathe, I try to position my feet on the console, using the muscles in my legs.​
By doing this, the weight of my body rests on the nails through my feet, creating terrible suffering.​
acr42.JPG
So I get down, bending my legs trembling and stretching my arms,​
but these are the muscles in my shoulders and my chest to get tired.
I then try to get up, but these maneuvers to try to breathe better, succeeded induce the cramps all my respiratory muscles, which are beginning to suffocate me, because the air entering my lungs, has trouble out again.​
All my muscles contract, one after the other, causing terrible cramps,​
coming up to my chest and shoulders and go down to my belly.
On the cross, my sufferings are endless.​
Only the manner and intensity of my pain change with my positions.
I breathe more and more evil. My movements, to try to escape the pain and suffocation, slow down.​
I feel my strength fails me...​
 
Now I'm crucified. This is the best time of my agony.​
My body naked and scourged is nailed to the cross, offered at the sight of everyone,​
in a terrible ordeal, but also in a sort of supreme enjoyment.​
My death throes began, alternating positions.​
Turn by turn, pushing my legs to relieve my hands, or stooping my knees , leaving me hanging by my arms,​
to relieve my feet. But in this case, this is my breathing that becomes difficult.​
I'm panting. My body writhes on the cross, in a kind of deadly dance.​
Joy and pleasure mingle with throbbing of my wounds.​
To try to breathe, I try to position my feet on the console, using the muscles in my legs.​
By doing this, the weight of my body rests on the nails through my feet, creating terrible suffering.​
So I get down, bending my legs trembling and stretching my arms,​
but these are the muscles in my shoulders and my chest to get tired.​
I then try to get up, but these maneuvers to try to breathe better, succeeded induce the cramps all my respiratory muscles, which are beginning to suffocate me, because the air entering my lungs, has trouble out again.​
All my muscles contract, one after the other, causing terrible cramps,​
coming up to my chest and shoulders and go down to my belly.​
On the cross, my sufferings are endless.​
Only the manner and intensity of my pain change with my positions.​
I breathe more and more evil. My movements, to try to escape the pain and suffocation, slow down.​
I feel my strength fails me...​
Nice work Dom. Can we see more suspension, more tension in those limbs/upper body?
 
You are cruel Phlebas!

But they are nice potential pictures that could be turned into outdoor manips with a crowd watching, as long as Dom doesn't mind that. Pity about the hood, I wish there was another way of concealing one's identity. Women don't seem quite so bothered by showing their faces.
 
You are cruel Phlebas!

But they are nice potential pictures that could be turned into outdoor manips with a crowd watching, as long as Dom doesn't mind that. Pity about the hood, I wish there was another way of concealing one's identity. Women don't seem quite so bothered by showing their faces.

When it comes to crux I caste a wide net, but when it comes to the crunch some form of suspension is the real deal, and the purist cruxer in me says I want tension showing in that body and limbs. At the cost of being a bit stereotyped, women are grace, men are strength, and the crucified male body needs those muscles to show at their best. I ask the same of myself.

Dom, what's your position on being photomaniped?
 
PhilX and phlebas, I thank you for your indulgence.
I'm not a purist of the crucifixion, but that's my fantasy, and I love to show.
I must hide my face by cons, because I'm afraid that my family or my friends do recognize me. I do not believe that women who are present on this forum show their real faces. Most pictures have been loaded on other websites.
By cons, you can perfectly do some manipulation with my photos, but I prefer that you wait for the end of the story (in shortly). You may be able to put a face to me, if it makes you want?
 
When it comes to crux I caste a wide net, but when it comes to the crunch some form of suspension is the real deal, and the purist cruxer in me says I want tension showing in that body and limbs. At the cost of being a bit stereotyped, women are grace, men are strength, and the crucified male body needs those muscles to show at their best. I ask the same of myself.

Dom, what's your position on being photomaniped?
Like I said, I readily accept the manipulation of my photos, but after the end of my story, in a few days.
You can put a decorative exterior, or even add a face to my body. But I wish, of course, it goes in the direction of improvement! ;)
 
Of course I'd wait till your story is finished Dom, maybe even then I would wait a good time for it to sink in with everyone.

I feel a bit guilty in writing so much during your story, I hope you don't think I am detracting from it with other subjects. Sorry if I have. I will keep quiet now.
 
Of course I'd wait till your story is finished Dom, maybe even then I would wait a good time for it to sink in with everyone.

I feel a bit guilty in writing so much during your story, I hope you don't think I am detracting from it with other subjects. Sorry if I have. I will keep quiet now.
No, you did not bother me! Your criticisms are welcome.
Especially you can to carry on writing! Your opinion is always interesting to me.
Thank you for your confidence.
Sincerely.
 
After long hours of suffering and agony, the executioner finally decides to done away with me.
He grabs a spear that he raises and points at my chest to finish me off, ending my pain.
I see the tip of the spear that sits on my chest offered.
In a last gasp, I raise my head and looking skyward. My salvation comes.​
acr43.jpg
The executioner pushes the spear between my ribs, in a deep sound and clammy, making blood gush on my chest.
acr44.jpg
Shooting pain through me.
The tip of the spear has pierced my heart which is racing… distorting, in a dull pain… and finally stops.​
A final contraction, an ultimate enjoyment, and I taste blood in my mouth.
Glare invades my head.
I lose consciousness, my head falls sideways.
Stop my suffering. I die in a last breath.​
.../...​
 
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