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Drawings by Montycrusto

Go to CruxDreams.com
not quite a Judas Cradle exactly, but definitely an Uncomfortable Seat - I call it " The Devil's Perch"
(drawn by me, ink on paper, lol - expand to view, otherwise it's grainy)
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Story:

The lecherous jailer had always threatened to make things worse for her if she didn't co-operate; but instead of allowing him to kiss her, she had turned her head away; when he persisted, she spat on him.

Furiously, the jailer dragged her down to a squalid, damp dungeon, riddled with vermin, and locked her neck and wrists into a steel yoke; then he pushed her over to where the device he called the "Devil's Perch" waited, fixed to the wall. As he chained the prisoner's neck to the wall above it, she caught her first glimpse of the thing.

It consisted of a steel bracket attached to the wall, adorned with sharp spikes along the upper side, and fitted with two obscenely phallic protrusions, obviously designed to penetrate her vagina and anus if she should sink on to it. It was indeed a sort of perch or seat - but the most uncomfortable and devilish seat ever invented!

Briskly the Jailer kicked her ankles apart on either side of the perch, and chained them to the wall. But even then, he was not finished. He attached a thin chain to one of her nipple-rings (he had pierced her nipples himself, a couple of weeks earlier), passed the chain through a ring at the top of the perch and pulled it up again to attach the free end to her other nipple. The chain was too short, and pulled her tits downwards; to relieve the pull on her nipples, the prisoner bent her knees slightly... until the tip of the dildo suddenly touched her pussy lips, and she stopped, her legs slightly bent. Oh shit, she thought, looking down, this is not good.

The jailer seized her hair in one fist and yanked her head back , forcing her to look up at him. "Now you see what you're in for, don't you, you little bitch," he said, grabbing her chin with his other hand and kissing her violently; this time she was unable to turn away, or move or do anything, while his tongue forced its way past her lips and into her mouth, probing for the back of her throat. She felt sick.

Suddenly, the assault ended, and she was able to breathe again as the jailer stood back, took aim and slapped her once, quite hard across the cheek, so that she bashed the back of her head against the wall behind her. "That's what I call a kiss. Why didn't you let me do that earlier, and you could have avoided the Perch!"

Her legs were already trembling with the strain of standing with knees slightly bent; she pushed herself up and whimpered as her nipples were cruelly stretched again; nevertheless she forced herself up until her legs were straight, though the pain in her breasts was considerable. The jailer grinned at her. "Hurts, does it? Well, wait till you can't stand up any more, and you sink down on to the perch... you will, eventually... then you'll know what pain feels like! Have a good night on your perch, little bird! There are plenty of bugs and spiders in here; if you get hungry, just open your mouth, I'm sure a few will crawl in!"

He swaggered out, laughing, and slammed the heavy cell door behind him, plunging the prisoner into almost total darkness.
 
Women in prison, in chains and skimpy striped uniforms, being man-handled by brutal guards... (As always, please expand images for best results; otherwise my fine scratchy-scratchy lines interfere with something or other and produce a nasty grainy texture)
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One of the new prisoners has been sent for, and must be brought to the interrogation suite for questioning. She has little idea of the ordeal she is about to face - all she knows is that the guard is hustling her briskly along a corridor, past many occupied cells, containing other girls like herself. She struggles to run fast enough in her leg-irons, and would have fallen if the guard had not been taken a firm grip on her hair with his fist. She notices one of the other prisoners has been chained to the bars of her cell door, with her feet sticking out into the corridor - the soles have been savagely whipped, and are covered in painful-looking stripes. She shudders with fear; the guard brutally pushes her onwards towards her interrogation.
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forced undressing...
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When the guard unlocks the prisoner's handcuffs and orders her to strip naked and hand over her prison uniform, she knows that the slightest hesitation will earn her a whipping. This new girl is still quite ashamed to be seen naked by the prison staff - it is likely that her futile attempts to cover herself will be punished.
 
I like the first one.... looks familiar.... oh hey - it's one of my scribbles :)
Nice to see it in circulation ;)
It looked like this until I tried one of deviantart's special effects
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was one of the first things I uploaded to deviantart back in February or March this year I think, since when someone has uploaded it to tumblr - I spotted it the other day. Now it's getting displayed in the same group as a Quoom (and a very good one too) :) Thanks Naraku
 
I really should do some more whip-drawings...
There's something about the connection between ink marks on the page, and whip-marks on naked flesh...
Enjoying the hell out of this thread, thanks to the OP and all the contributors.
Sometimes I feel we pen-and-inky kinky types get a bit eclipsed by all the shiny CG out there...:rolleyes:
 

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Here's the alternative version I made, with accompanying text. (Sorry if this is off-topic)
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The slave hung from her wrists, her back pressed against the end of the fearsome sedile. The position stretched her ribcage, making it hard to exhale, and forcing her to take shallow, fluttering breaths. Soon she would have to push herself up with her legs, forcing down against the nails through her feet, and pull with her arms, just to be able to breathe, otherwise she would asphyxiate. But the agony would be excruciating, and besides, she had not the strength to remain like that, so she would soon sink down again.

Of course, she could always come down on the sedile, taking the strain off her arms and ribs, allowing her to breathe easily, without inflicting tearing agony on her wrists and feet. But... she looked over her shoulder at the phallic protrusions reaching up towards her... that would mean impaling herself. She would have to choose between impalement and asphyxiation. She already knew that everyone chose impalement. There was no choice, really. The only question was when.
 
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