Eulalia's Secret Crucifixion

[Abraham]

Eulalia’s Secret Crucifixion

When I read the story ‘Crucifixa’ of Eulalia, with illustrations of Ascanio, I got inspriration to write an own story. This story is completely different from the original and Eulalia was so kind to help me correct my English (I am Dutch) when I wrote this story. I re-used the pictures of Ascanio and parts of the original text of Eulalia.

Each day I will place a chapter in this threat.
Text with separate pictures and a PDF you can download with text and pictures integrated.
I hope you like it. It has cost me a lot of time to write it. And many thanks to Eulalia for her help to correct my English.

Here we go with the first and second chapter.

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Eulalia’s Secret Crucifixion Text by Abraham.
Inspired by Eulalia and all pictures are of Ascanio.


PROLOGUE
This story tells about my crucifixion. A secret crucifixion ….
Let me introduce myself: I am Eulalia, a Celtic Princess. My much older sister is the queen of my people. She married the Roman governor of this county. It is a bad marriage. He cheats her … with me.
I cheat him too. I really love him (and I think he loves me too). But I also love my people and they hate Rome. I secretly support the rebels in the forest.




CHAPTER 01 YESTERDAY
It all started after I had given him a good fuck. As I lay in his arms he told me that he'd found out that I support the rebels. As the Governor it is his duty to imprison me and then bring me to a court where I will be accused of rebellion against Rome.

The trial took place immediately, in the bedroom of the small palace somewhere in a country estate where we would have our love-sessions. The court existed of two people. My lover alias the prosecutor alias judge. And me the accused alias defence lawyer. We both together also formed the jury.

I was found guilty.

I knew the punishment for my crime of revolt against the authority of Rome.
The standard punishment is crucifixion. The Romans use crucifixion as an effective method to warn people not to rebel, therefore all crucifixions are in public.

But now, we both had a serious problem.

For him: It would be a scandal if the public were to hear about a secret love-affair between the Governor (him) and a rebellious Celtic Princess (me). And of course his wife (my sister) would go out of her mind. As queen loyal to Rome she even might inform the Senate in Rome.
For me: I had the prospect of being punished and humiliated in public by some tyrannical executioners in front of my own people as the standard procedure requires. And my sister hates me that much, she would demand a first class seat to witness it all.

We found the perfect solution for us both. I promised to fully cooperate in a more private crucifixion. A secret one. Just the two of us … him and me.

Next, we discussed the way of crucifixion.

My lover wanted the real thing. Not a simple crucifixion with some ropes and then I would be killed quick with a spear. My punishment should involve torture and bearing the cross to the execution-place. There the crucifixion would be with nails with a cornu mounted on the cross.

He insisted on using a cornu, because of my double game in bed with him. However he admitted to believing that I love him. (And I really do.)

I'd witnessed several crucifixions of women, but had never seen the use of a ‘cornu’ on such occasions. He explained that it is an erotic instrument the Romans sometimes use when a virgin is crucified. I supposed he meant a kind of dildo and I gave it thought.
Nailed on the cross I knew I would suffer horrible pains. Maybe a dildo I can sit on would lessen the strain in my limbs a bit. I doubted if a dildo could give me any fun, given the situation I would be in, but you can never know. Anyway, it would certainly give him a lot of fun to watch me experiencing it. A writhing girl on a cross can give such an erotic view…. Also for women in the crowd. I still get hot when I think of that beautiful redheaded crucifixa I watched a year ago! And (also important) if he wants it so much, I will grant it to my lover. The last thing I can do in my life will be to give him a show to remember for a lifetime!

I agreed.

One last agreement was made. After my death, the servants in the palace would inspect my corpse still nailed on the cross. He needed witnesses for Rome, if they wanted proof that I'd been punished properly for my crimes.
He would pay the servants enough money to keep their mouths shut. Then my body would disappear, so no one else (including my sister/his wife) would ever know what had happened. It sounded reasonable for me.

I agreed.

The negotiations ended with a (long) fuck before I was led to the dungeon beneath the palace.
So far history.

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 2

 

[Abraham]

CHAPTER 02 IMPRISONED

Soldiers lift their eyes in surprise when they see us go downstairs to the dungeon, both naked. Nothing shows I am his prisoner. Probably they think we want some kinky sex.
When we enter the poor lit dungeon he takes me by the hand and leads me to a cell where a luxurious candle is burning. Inside the cell he ties my arms behind my back to let me know that from now on I am his prisoner, not his lover. Then he leaves and takes the candle with him.



When the light moves away, I wonder if he will rape me tomorrow before the torture starts, as Romans always do before a crucifixion. Well, my former lover can get his fun. As I promised, I will submit to him completely in our last private session together.
In complete darkness I have many things to think off. The candle in the cell makes me suspect that the servants already knew in what for position I was in at the moment I entered the palace!

There are only a few hours left before the new day will start. Probably the last day off the short life I’m now left to live. I know I will suffer quit a lot before my life will end. My arms, tied behind my back start to ache, but I know it is nothing compared to the inevitable pain to come. I’d better try to get some sleep and not to think about it.

I awake when my lover (…, uh no, ... he is not my lover anymore …), I mean my future torturer, enters the cell.

He does not rape me, but unties my arms instead. Thoughtless I make some gymnastic movements to ease my hurting arms and shoulders. Amused he watches me and admires the curves of my body, the swinging of my breasts, my hair when I shake my head. Suddenly I realize that we are not lovers anymore. It is so common to be naked in his presence that I simply forgotten I am his prisoner now. I feel myself blushing and suddenly I am very naked….

Then he hands over some toiletry goods and tells me that for the moment I am free to go through the palace, to eat something and prepare myself for the things to come. All the servants and soldiers in the palace know that I am a special prisoner. But I must stay naked. I won’t have to worry about my safety with the soldiers. They know I am his property. Then he leaves. He has some preparations to do too.

Words echo in my mind. He said: I am his property!, Me, a proud Celtic princess!
When I leave the dungeon I can freely walk through the palace. First I go to the kitchen and a servant provides me with some bread and water. But that is all I get. She knows I am no longer a guest in the palace but a convicted slave. She is one of the servants who will inspect my corps.

I reject the silly idea to escape. A girl alone like me. I wouldn’t stand a chance of winning myself a way out of the palace. Of course I can try to avoid the torture soon to come by attempting to kill myself. Jump of the roof, find a knife, hang myself, whatever…. But that would not be honest. I promised to cooperate. I am his private crucifixa. Anyway, it’s what I asked for. I knew the punishment for my rebellion: crucifixion.

Time to get ready. Take a bath, brush back my hair. No make-up. I decide to shave my pussy. I suppose he will appreciate having a clear look view when the dildo enters my pussy on the cross. My pubic hair will not give any protection anyway if I find I dislike that ‘cornudildo’? Whatever. Then I go back to the cell and wait for the things to come. Sitting on a plank I am busy oiling my skin when he enters.



We are both nervous and unsure what to do.
Should I kneel? Should I put my arms behind my back, or put them on my head?
I sit and wait, still with the can of oil in my hand.
It seems that he too is unprepared. His eyes scan my naked body he knows so well. He sees the same body, but with a different person in it. A princess and lover, now a traitor and slave. His eyes focus on my bald pussy. For the moment he sees the lover, not the traitor.
Someone has to make the first move. It is me ….

“Hi .…”
“Uh yeah, hi .…”
“I shaved my pussy, do you like it?”
“Your are beautiful.”
“Let’s go then.”
Up we go. I follow him to the dungeon.

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 3

 

[Abraham]

CHAPTER 03 THE TORTURE​

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I am tied spreadeagled. My arms are tied to a bar above my head and my feet are tied to some blocks. With my feet some inches above the ground my feet cannot support my bodyweight. I must look very vulnerable.​

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He takes the whip ... His eyes scan every part of my exposed body as if they are taking pictures of my still unharmed body. He is thrilled to see me this way.​

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Sometimes waiting for things to come is a torture in itself. In this tension I hear my own voice shout:​

"Come on, you've seen me naked before .... Whip me".​

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The first blow hits my left breast. Much harder than I expected he would do.​

"Ahh".​

I see his face express 'sorry'.​

Another blow. This time my right thigh.​

Painful, but better to bear.​

Another blow hits my right breast.​

"Ouch."​

Then each blow get stronger. One by one.​

Suddenly a heavy stroke hits both breasts. "Ahhh." And another heavy one on my belly.​

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The front of my body is the main target of the whip. A few times the whip curls around and hits my bottom and even my pussy a few times. Probably the big pillar behind me saves me from a direct whipping on my back. Or maybe he prefers to concentrate on my breasts and belly.​

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I know that as a Governor he must have witnessed several torture-sessions. Now he proves what he has learned. I no longer see 'sorry' in his face. Professionalism (or must I say enthusiasm?), takes over.​

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I start to cry: "Please stop". Another blow follows.​

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Then: "Aiii ... aiii ... ahhh ... noohh ...." Both my breasts are on fire. Skin breaks.​

"These bruises will make me need a scarf", says my brain, but then I realize I will never get a scarf!​

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I see anger. At last. Now I have become the traitor who made love with him to gather information for the rebellion. Yesterday I could not convince him that our love had nothing to do with it. I only supported the rebels financially. But of course, for that crime alone I deserve the death penalty.​

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Sobbing I hang on my arms, limp, to receive blow after blow. His main targets: the most sensitive parts of my body he knows so well.​

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I am awake. I am NOT in the dungeon. I am lying on my back in the hall of the palace.​

When I try to sit, I see a mark branded in my skin, just above my left breast. It is the imperial signature. Vaguely I remember a smouldering iron and my heaving adolescent breasts. I must have passed out then. There are several marks from the whip, but the blood has been washed away. Someone has taken care of me.​

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I look around. No one to see. But I am convinced that several people are peering at me.​

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On the pavement I see a red cloak. It is used in rituals on special occasions. How does it come to be here? It belongs home, in the Royal Palace where I live with my sister, the queen (his wife). The cloak is draped over something.​

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When I take the cloak off the ground I see it is covering a beam. It must be the crossbeam of the cross because there are also four nails. But there is more ... a nasty looking hair-ribbon. A crown of thorns!...? I am stunned.​

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A crown ... I am a Celtic Princess.​

The cloak from the Royal Palace? ... My sister ...?​

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My mind drifts away.​

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I have hated my sister since she married the Governor. She does not love him. Her marriage is a political choice. She fully collaborates with the Romans and is a disgrace to my people.​

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My sister hates me too, since the day we all three went to the crucifixion of that beautiful redhead. We all got horny as hell. They had an argument about sex and I heard her say something with my name in it. Then she refused to go home and wanted to witness the death of the redhead, even when the guards estimated she would probably last until the next day. When we left, my sister stood only a few feet from the cross and kept staring at the redhead like a snake does just before the moment it bites.​

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Back in the palace the Governor made advances, I took my chance, now we are lovers for almost a year.​

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Back to reality.​

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TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 4​

 

[Abraham]

CHAPTER 04 UPHILL​

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I am chilly. I suppose I have been laying on the pavement for a while. To get warm I put the ceremonial cloak over my shoulders. Suddenly a door opens a chink. I see sunlight. Nothing happens.​

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I suppose it means I must go out. At first I think I just can walk away. Of course I can’t. The cloak, the crown, the cross, the nails. I have to take them with me.​

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Carefully I put the crown on my head. The door opens a bit further. Now I get it. I lift the crossbeam. But what to do with the nails? Put them in my mouth? No, they are too big and I'm sure to look ridiculous with the nails in my mouth. Resting on one knee I take the nails (two in each hand) and carry the beam towards the now wide open door.​

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Outside, there is nobody! Again I wonder if I have a chance to escape. Behind me the door is closed. No, there must be several people watching all my moves. Servants, soldiers, I suspect even my sister. But our agreement was a crucifixion without any public. Just the two of us!​

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Suddenly I start to panic: suppose a whole crowd is waiting for me there …. So far I've kept my word and I am fully cooperating. But will he keep his? “Gods of love and hate, come on we were lovers, once …. Yesterday!”​

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My crucifixion will take place on a hill, not far away from the palace, but when you carry a beam uphill it is quite a distance.​

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The thorns on my head hurt. I could take it off. I suppose that the chance that someone will rush out of the palace to put the crown back on my head is almost nil. But the crown stays on my head. To be honest: I am cheating a bit. I know that if I were crucified in public, the thorns would be pushed into the bones of my skull.​

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The beatings in the dungeon hurt also. The muscles around my belly and breasts tear on my damaged skin. At several places the skin is broken, but it hardly bleeds. Fortunately he did not use a whip with knots in it. The brand-mark hurts most of all.​

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I see him standing up the hill. Naked. No one else. He is drinking some wine and does not make any attempt to come to me. I will have to bear the beam all the way up by myself. But I will manage. My muscles will hold. I am strong and the wood of the beam is not heavy enough to make me collapse. I will make it, despite the pain of the beating in the dungeon. Maybe that is the reason he did not whip my shoulders and back? I start to wonder: “Does he still love me? Is he being forced to do all these things to me? Is my sister blackmailing him?​

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“Come on girl, I helped the rebels. This is Roman law, my punishment has a logical explanation.”​

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It takes me more time than expected to reach the top of the hill. The last part of the route exhausts me. All the time he lwatches me while I drag the beam, and he sips some more wine.​

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I notice his hard-on …. he must be as horny as hell.​

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When I arrive, he helps me to lay down the beam and orders me to settle on my knees. He pushes the crown a bit further onto my head. I clench my teeth and feel some blood. “I don’t want the crown to fall off”. It sounds like an apology!​

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He gives me time to recover. In the valley below I see soldiers blocking the path to the hill. He is keeping his word. We will not be disturbed. It’s just him and me.​

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Then he takes a glass of wine and walks towards me. He hands it over! But it is strictly forbidden to give the victim any drink, it is against all protocols!​

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“Dink the wine slowly”, he advises. “It’s not ordinary wine. Just sip it. But drink it all. When you are finished, we'll proceed”.​

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The very expensive wine has a strange taste …. Yes! … I get some hope!​

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As a princess I know that sometimes a crucifixion is “fixed” in such a way that a sedative is given to rich victims before crucifixion (it costs a lot of money!) I heard about a man hallucinating who lost his way immediately at the start of the route and insisted on bearing the cross in the wrong direction! Even scourging did not work. To avoid a scandal, desperate soldiers carried the cross while a wagon brought the man to the place of execution. The Roman officer was furious. But WE are in private, no one will ever know.​

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I see him fasten the crossbeam to the other beam of the cross. Both beams have the shape of a triangle, with the top pointing up. I figure that my feet will be nailed sideways. But that means that my pussy will be clear to see and my vagina will be wide open! Well, I expected something like this, therefore I shaved my pussy this morning. So I don’t mind.​

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We don’t speak. What kind of small talk can you have in such a situation? I repress the urge to ask if my sister has something to do with it. But what use would it have? Within a few hours I will be dead, I suppose. And it would embarrass him and me. Only one thing counts: the crucifixion. And then all my questions are over. Solved or not solved.​

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The drugs in the wine take effect. While he finishes the preparations my eyes cannot stop peeping at his immense hard-on. I get aroused.​

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TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 5​

 

[thehangingtree]

Very well written, Abraham

 

[jimsac]

Your pics (and of course the story) are really well done, Abraham. Good job!

 

[Abraham]

I am very glad to see that people like my story. It takes a lot of time to write it. Your positive reactions keep me motivated to go on.

But it is important for me to emphasize that the pictures are of Ascanio. And Eulalia helps me with my English. So they also deserve credits.

Anyway, I am very happy with the positive reactions.
Abraham.

 

[sebastian]

Well done Abraham, good plot, great pics from Ascanio and another sticky end for Eulalia.

 

[Abraham]

CHAPTER 05 THE CRUCIFIXION​

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A nervous voice says: “It is almost noon, time to proceed.”​

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“Funny, HE sounds nervous, while I ought to be.” I am nervous too, but not because I am afraid what is going to happen next. I feel horny.​

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“Stand over the cross, one foot on each side, then settle on your knees.”​

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On my knees, I feel the wood of the cross between my legs. I drink the last drops of wine. Careful not to spill any drop. I want to have as much of the sedative as possible.​

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I must be in a trance. In my mind his hard-on is growing huge.​

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When he takes the wineglass out of my hand I see his hard-on so close. On eye level, on MOUTH level. I can hardly resist grabbing his balls, pulling his penis to me to suck him off.​

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“Take off your cloak and lay back,” he orders.​

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When I want to sit on the cross and my pussy touches the edge of the wood I almost jump up. “Oh Goddess of love”, I moan. Never in my life have I felt so horny before… I start to sweat and I am ashamed I am so horny. I had no idea that a sedative could have such a powerful side-effect on my sex-drive…. What fantastic drug has he put in the wine?​

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He takes the hammer and two nails and presses the other two nails in my left hand.​

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“Don’t lose them, I need those nails for your feet.”​

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Do I hear a sarcastic tone in his voice? But the mood I am in I will do everything for him, anything. When I feel the wedge of the wood press between my buttocks, I almost orgasm.​

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I want to fuck him. "Please ... one last fuck .... The last fuck in my life!"​

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But he ignores my pleas and pushes my right arm on top of the crossbeam.​

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“I will fuck you later”, he promises, “but first things first”, and takes a nail. With his right leg he presses my right arm to the beam.​

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Curious I want to see what he is doing. But when I feel the nail press into the palm of my hand, I start to wonder if something is going wrong with the sedative drug.​

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A blow on the nail and my whole body almost jumps a foot in the air, while my hand is pinned to the wood.​

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Agony.​

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One more knock and my right hand is pinned forever. I am shocked. All erotic feelings vanish.​

“What's happening”, I am too shocked to scream. “My hand, my poor hand”​

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He quickly shifts to my other hand and before I know it, my left hand is pinned too. Now I scream so loud, it can probably be heard inside the palace. With my arms stretched and so incapable, I have to lift my body off to ease the pain, pushing my hips upwards. If there had been any spectators, I would have given them the most obscene view a woman ever can give of her sex.​

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NOTE: Fortunately we have pictures of this crucifixion. Abraham.​

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He does not give me time to think or react and I feel an explosion of pain in my left foot that makes me forget the pain in my hands. Then my right foot explodes. My legs are pinned to the cross. My left leg almost stretched, my right leg is bending a little. As I expected before, my feet are nailed sideways.​

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If I had the power and could move, I would tear the cross into pieces. The pain is horrible and comes in waves. For seconds I am almost unconscious, then for seconds I am clear in my head. I start to scream again. My voice gets hoarse. What lousy sedative has he given me?​

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I want to communicate, but he shows no interest in talking. I fight with the pain, scream and tear on the nails.​

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He watches all the moves I make, like a predator that watches his prey. I see him staring at me with the hammer still in his hand and a triumphant look in his eyes. I have never seen him with such a big hard-on before. His eyes are fixed on my bald pussy and I realize that the way I am nailed (because of the triangle-sectioned upright) my sex is v-e-r-y visible for him.​

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When I come to my senses, … a bit …, he is still staring at me. I don’t know how long I have been unconscious. Seconds, minutes? He still has a hard-on, but it has decreased somewhat.​

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I am able to move a bit and find a position that causes less pain. It is still horrible, but now I can handle it as long I don’t move. I feel a sticky liquid trickle out from my pussy and inside I feel tickles. Something must have happened there while I was unconscious. Is it sperm? I am curious, but I have a limited view. Now I am nailed to the cross my vagina is hidden behind my belly. And of course I can’t reach my womanhood with my hands for the same reason.​

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My curiosity about what has happened in my pussy has a pleasant effect. It is arousing me, in spite of all the pain. I start to suspect he has given me an aphrodisiac instead of a sedative! But if he did so, the poor man will have a very painful hard-on for a long time, because he also drank the wine. Quit a lot actually, almost half of the bottle. I only drank one glass.​

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NOTE: Eulalia is right. Indeed she drank an aphrodisiac. A very strong one. Sometimes a side-effect can be that you are more sensitive to pain, but it can also go the other way. To defend her torturer: it must said, that he did not realize this possible side-effect when he gave it her. The main reason for the aphrodisiac is the cornu he will use (and Eulalia will soon experience). He is just curious what she will do with it. It is a fetish in his sick brain and now he can try it out. But we all have a sick part in our brain, haven’t we? Abraham.​

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Now he plays with his penis right above my head. Does he want me to give him a blowjob? Suddenly he pisses over me. The first stream reaches my belly, but when the stream gets less power his piss falls over my breasts, to end with a small stream on my face and the last drops he shakes out land on my nose.​

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Now I am sure he raped me while I was unconscious. He always goes to the toilet after a good fuck.​

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I think he is starting to enjoy torturing and humiliating me. All his secret fantasies are now possible for him, as long as I stay alive. I don’t know what he will do with my corpse when I am dead. But then I shall be dead.​

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I can’t blame him for fucking me. Why not? After all it was ME who betrayed him. And when the cross is raised he will not have the chance anymore, I suppose. (Uh, I am not sure about that. He could stand on a box or something ...) Maybe the cross will stay lying on the ground and he will fuck me the whole day long. With the amount of aphrodisiac he drank, his hard-on can stand for hours…. And the bottle is not empty, yet….​

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TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 6​

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[thehangingtree]

continued applause!!!!!

Tree

 

[Abraham]

CHAPTER 06 THE CROSS IS RAISED​

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He fastens a strange looking device between my legs onto the wood. Is this the cornu? But you cannot call this a dildo! From what I can see it looks like a horn of an animal, the horn of a rhino?​

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When he is finished I see a nasty looking point sticking out above my belly. In my opinion that thing is a useless element in the crucifixion. The base of the shaft is too far away to sit on and as a dildo that thing is useless. Anyway, it will be difficult for him to rape me again with that thing as a barrier between my legs. So the fucks are over.​

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He takes the bottle of wine and puts it to my lips. I hesitate, now I know what is in the bottle.​

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“You promised to do anything today”, he says calmly. “And I can force you to drink it.”​

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To show me my powerlessness he closes my nose for some seconds.​

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I drink all the wine that is left in the bottle. Because I am in a horizontal position it is difficult to swallow. In small amounts, he gently pours the wine into my mouth. Not a drop is spilled.​

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When the bottle is empty he lifts up the cross. I feel every muscle taut, I feel the strain grow, inch by inch. Head back, lips wide, teeth clenched. The pain grows as the cross rises.​

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I am afraid he cannot hold it and the cross will fall.​

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I start to panic. What if the cross falls to its side and then upside down with me beneath, I am defenseless. I am not able to protect myself at all.​

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My torturer reads my mind. “Don’t move your cunt that much sweetie, keep in balance.”​

But have you ever tried to lie still when you are nailed on a cross that raises?​

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The base of the cross has to fall into a small hole in the ground. Because he is alone he cannot see what he is doing. The cross obstructs his view from locating the hole, but I can see it clearly.​

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“A bit to the right … no to the right”. I try to help, but in my mind I pray to the Gods.​

(“All Gods, please help him. Don’t let me fall, don’t let me fall, please.”)​

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“Noohoo , to the right I say .…”​

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“Shut up you cunt, I know what I am doing”.​

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“Noo, noo, push the cross to the right”.​

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I hear some curses, but the tone of his voice gives him away, he has lost his pride.​

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“Okay, to the right then”.​

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“Yes, we are almost there. A bit to the .....​

AHHHHHHHH ….. AHHHHHHHH ……..”​

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The base of the cross has reached the hole and falls in it. You may think I shouted loud during the crucifixion, but I can assure you, this pain is even worse. I guess my scream would have made my torturer deaf for a while if he had been standing in front of the cross instead of behind it. If the people in the palace had missed the first series of cries, they must certainly have heard this one.​

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That sickening jolt! All of me tugged on four flesh-rending nails. Frantic I try to get loose. I forget all the pain it causes, I have to get off this cross. Get out of here. The pain is driving me insane. (The side-effect of the aphrodisiac?, or would every victim suffer as much at this moment?) Meanwhile my torturer has no time to watch my writhing, pushing, pulling, anything to get off the cross. He is busy securing the cross with some wedges to get it in a more stable position.​

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TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 7​

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[Abraham]

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CHAPTER 7 THE CORNU COMES INTO ACTION​

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I come to my senses. So far, my brain has won the battle with madness, though that's still close.​

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The pain in my hands and feet is terrible now they have to bear my body-weight. But I'm also feeling something nice happening in my vagina. Fingers move in and out, play with my labia and the entrance of my vulva. The fingers belong to my tormentor. He is my lover again!​

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I decide that the best way to forget my pain is to concentrate on his probing fingers.​

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“Mmmm, that feels nice.” A finger starts to tap softly in the region of my clitoris.​

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“Hmm, go on”, I murmur. As former lover he knows precisely what I like and how I like it.​

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The aphrodisiac is working well.​

Very well. Very very well. Very very very well.​

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I forget everything. I feel an orgasm building up, and by the way it is building up I can predict it will be a special one. Then I feel those fingers leave my moist loins…!​

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“Oh no, don’t stop I beg you. Please go on!” It is not meant to be just a request, it is my demand!​

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My lover answers my request and pushes my hips slowly forward with his left hand. The fingers of his right hand now alternate in stimulating my clitoris, gently pulling on my labia, or giving a massage to the walls within my pussy. I am almost ready to explode.​

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Despite the pain I willingly push my hips forward as he leads me to the strongest orgasm of my life. A finger enters my anus. I had never liked it when he fucked my ass, I only allowed it to pleasure him. But now, “Oh Goddess of love!”​

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I feel him spread my young woman’s love petals and something nestles in that moist valley. My legs tremble, but certainly not caused by the pain in my limbs …. Almost in trance I push my head backward.​

​

​

​

Yes … Yes …​

​

YES … YES ….​

​

I am ready for ….​

​

I am ready for …. .....​

​

.... PAIN ….​

?????​

​

​

​

​

​

.... PAIN ….​

!!!!!!​

​

​

Something cold passes between my delicate petals. I have no time to react. My lover/torturer is still pushing at my hips and so preventing me from stopping this cold intrusion. It is the tip of the spike that is entering me!​

​

When the cornu has penetrated me about two inches, my tormentor steps aside to admire his work.​

​

​

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 8​

 

[thehangingtree]

He's being nice doing this to you. The pain will be horrible but the agony on the cross will be shorter...

...but then again you thrive on the cross...

Tree

 

[Abraham]

​

CHAPTER 8 FIGHTING THE CORNU​

​

My back is bent in a very unnatural way. The cornu forces me to push my hips forward as much as I can. This increases the strain on my limbs and multiplies the pain in my hands and feet. I am shocked and look at him. A few seconds ago he was my lover, now he is my torturer again. How could he? First I was in heaven, now I am in hell!​

​

It looks as if nature agrees with me, dark clouds fill the air.​

​

​

​

“I must get off this thing! Forget the pain in my hands and feet. I have to get rid of this evil thing first!” I try to pull myself up, the spike goes deeper.​

​

“Don’t panic, think, think.”​

​

I try to push with my right leg, but my left leg is fixed. The spike enters further.​

​

It is impossible to see what I am doing. I am unable to see my pussy, and, coming from behind, the spike is even further out of my sight. I can only adjust my movements by using the pain in my cunt.​

 ​

​

​

Slowly, slowly, use my brain”.​

​

But it seems impossible to get the thing out of me without his help. My body-weight and the immobility of my nailed hands and feet make it impossible. The thing forces me to push my hips forward as far as I can, but then I am unable to move my arms. Because of the shape of the cornu, pulling or pushing with my body makes the thing enter me even deeper. There is only one way to get it out of me, the same way it got in. But if so, I need help and my torturer shows no sign of helping me.​

​

The tip of the cornu (and the first part of the shaft) is relatively thin. I can only slow down the penetration by pressing the muscles in my thighs and in my belly. But I cannot find a position to stop the spike to entering me further. Any move I make, my position gets even worse. I try to suppress the pain and try not to move. But my muscles are becoming incapable. Exhaustion, lack of strength. I know that cramp will soon follow.​

​

To my dismay I become aware that the aphrodisiac is starting to work again. But I cannot allow myself to get aroused …. Not in the situation I am in! Ruthlessly the spike pushes in further.​

​

Still pressing the muscles in my thighs I start to realize my hopeless situation.​

 ​

​

​

Every move I make costs me tremendous pain, yet I cannot let that thing penetrate further. At last, I recognized, resigned: there’s no escape. Exhausted I accept the agony that surges through with every lunge of my long, slow death-dance. I start to cry.​

​

I feel an orgasm building. “Damned aphrodisiac”. I remember the orgasm I was so close to and he so cruelly denied. If he had waited only a few more seconds then … “AAAAHH”, another inch. I must stop thinking about that orgasm he denied me.​

​

“Goddess of love, please don’t do this to me”.​

​

Tears run down my face.​

​

​

​

​

I start to pray: “Gods of heaven and hell, please let this torture stop!”​

​

For the first time in my life it seems that the Gods are listening.​

​

​

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 9​

 

[Abraham]

CHAPTER 9 TWO LOVERS​

​

Dark clouds gather, nature explodes. Thunderclaps accompany my fight on the cross.​

​

Suddenly the pain overrules my brain. I fight, frenzied, trying to tear my fingers free from those fixed nails, while I feel the spike penetrate - and how the aphrodisiac gains new strength in me!​

​

​

​

Excited my torturer observes each throb of my loins as the triumphant metal penetrates my female parts, province by province, conquering me.​

​

Yet still I strive with aching thighs to ease my tortured sex around the exploring spike, flex up my supple body, feel how close ecstatic pleasure lies to exquisite pain!​

​

Ah, crucifixion! Summit of sadist’s skill! Making me, every sinew taut, torture – and fuck – myself on this spike! This mixture of pain and lust makes me delirious.​

​

​

​

My tormentor so close distance he can touch me.​

​

I see he is masturbating to a climax.​

​

The aphrodisiac makes me mad.​

​

Both of us are close to orgasm.​

​

Despite all the things he is doing to me I still love him.​

​

I call his name.​

​

​

​

He hears me. His eyes meet mine. We are lovers again.​

​

As if in trance we work on our own orgasm and watch the other to work on it too.​

​

We are entranced. Two different bodies forming one organism in our orgasmic race to the finish.​

​

We are almost there …. Within a few seconds we will share our mutual orgasms.​

​

​

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 10​

 

[thehangingtree]

I'll bet he's enjoying his more...

T

 

[admihoek]

I'll bet he's enjoying his more...
T

sure Tree you know that the best of all

 

[Abraham]

​

CHAPTER 10 MY SISTER INTERVINES​

​

“Hi husband! The size of your hard-on tells me you have a lot of fun.”​

I hear a well known female voice …. It’s my sister!​

​

“My, my. Lovely sight. You can show me this more often to me if you want.”​

Amused she watches how he jerks himself off. He is too close to stop and with the last few strokes he is there.​

​

I am shocked that she has entered our private scene, but I cannot stop my movements anymore. I am soo close also .… I raise my eyes to the sky and try to forget my sister. My hips jump up and down. The tip of the spike is somewhere buried in my womb. The five?, six? (seven?) inches in me give me enough play in my limbs to make the movements I need.​

​

“Ahhhh, ahhhh, Oh Goddess of love, ahhhh ….”​

​

In fascination they watch me working on the cornu. I promised my lover a show he would never forget, but involuntarily I'm giving it my to sister too. I can’t control myself. My mind has entered my vagina. The centre of all. All that matters happens there, the rest of my body does not exist.​

​

​

​

Then my orgasm hits and an exploding fireball of energy runs through all parts of my body. For this moment I am out of this world.​

​

“Mmhhh …, oohh …. aahhAAAHHH …AAAHHHAAAHHH … AAHHhhhh … aaahhhh”.​

​

My orgasm might been even stronger without the intervention of my sister on the scene, but it is still the strongest orgasm I've ever experienced in my young life!​

​

Suddenly I feel the pain in my hands, feet, limbs, the cornu inside me, the torture this morning, the brand-mark. Then cramp hits …. I cannot control the pain:​

​

“aaaiiii, aaaaiii, nnnNNOOO, HHHAAAHHHH”, NOOOO, AAAHHHH, HELP, HELP, KILL ME, PLEASE KILL ME…. AAHHhhh … please... k . .. kk.. ill m.e….. p.l…s .. ”.​

​

​

​

The atmosphere is sultry.​

​

My sister has taken off her clothes. Naked she sits beside my lover/her husband.​

​

Together they watch me writhe on the cross. There is small talk. They drink wine and eat snacks, like couples do when they have a pleasant picnic somewhere in the countryside.​

​

My sister observes me when I fight against a terrible cramp in my left leg.​

Absent-mindedly she plays with her pussy.​

​

“How far in do you think the tip of the cornu will be?”​

“Hard to say. Probably about seven inches. Measured from her cunt it hasn't reached the height of her navel, not yet.”​

“But more than two thirds of the way up to her navel?”​

“Yeah … at least.”​

​

“Do you remember that redhead last year?​

“Of course I do.”​

“She had marvellous tits. But I like my sister's tits too, they're beautiful.”​

Her other hand joins in and plays with a breast.​

​

“I think your sister’s tits look even better than the redhead’s. It's all in the family I think, your tits are okay too,” lies her husband tactfully.​

“Nice to hear what you say, but I disagree. No woman on earth can beat that redhead, even my sister. But I have to admit she gave us a hell of a show when she climaxed on that cornu.”​

Her pussy is awakening slowly. As a reward she pays it more attention.​

​

The cramp in my left leg is almost under control. But now the muscles in my right leg join in the revolt. These muscles are more unmanageable than the left one’s and they persuade the muscles in my left leg to go in protest again.​

​

My sister sits up: “Do you know I still dream of that redhead so now and then.”​

He chuckles and admits: “Me too.”​

“Let’s have some fun then.”​

My sister tries to get some life in his penis, but for the first time today his tool is limp and stays limp. My sister's unlucky. No aphrodisiac in this wine.​

​

Disappointed she lays on her stomach now. Her head rests on the palms of her hands, her upper body on her arms. Her feet wave slowly in the air.​

​

She looks at me.​

​

​

​

For the moment I have won the fight with my muscles and I am the boss of my legs again.​

From my high position I can see little movements with her hips and just noticeable contractions of muscles in her thighs and buttocks. Men don't notice such little details. You have to be a woman to know what she is doing.​

​

There is some silence. Her husband gives himself poise by opening the last bottle of wine, although two other bottles are not empty yet.​

​

He is not listening when she says:​

“Those stripes over her .. tits … and belly …. I can see you've ….. beaten her up … mm … well in the .….. dungeon. Even … mmm … a brand mark. You must have had ….… a lot of fun in the dungeon … mmmm … this morning.”​

​

I see small tremors run through her hips. A blush appears on her face as she realizes that I can see her attempts to have a cum.​

​

Angry, my sister orders her husband:​

“Let’s sit over there. Then we'll have a better view of how the cornu's getting up her.”​

​

​

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 11​

 

[The Fallen Angel]

This is excellent and will definitely be placed in the archive when finished.

 

[Abraham]

Hi Melissa,
I am very happy with all the compliments I get. I feel proud to read that my story will be placed in the archive. I wrote the full story, but two others persons deserve it to get compliments also. The pictures are of Ascanio. He made them for another story written by Eulalia. I re-used these pictures. And Eulalia has helped me to correct my English language, because I am not English but Dutch. There are 6 chapters still to go. I hope you will like these chapters also!
Abraham.