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KARYN'S CHOICE

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H

Hammerlock

Executioner
KARYN'S CHOICE

Karyn smiled as she stroked out into the lake, reveling in the feel of the warm water on her bare skin and the privacy which this lake afforded her. She had found the lake by accident three years ago, while hiking in the deep woods of the state forest. It lay almost two miles from the nearest road or trail, and she had never seen any evidence of anyone else ever having been there---no tracks, no blackened campfire rings, no trash or litter, absolutely nothing to betray the presence of a human. The lake was deep and clear, with a sandy bottom, and as far as she was concerned, it was heaven on earth for her.

She turned over on her back and backstroked for awhile, enjoying the feel of the sun on her bare breasts as they protruded from the water. She had taken to coming here at least once a week during the summer to skinnydip and sunbathe, and it was the high point of her week. She rolled over, took a breath, and dove under.

She went to the bottom and swam along the shoreline, her thick black mane of hair streaming out behind her. It was a blurry world, but one which she embraced wholeheartedly. The sandy bottom ended and a jumble of rocks appeared, swarming with fish that weren't afraid of her at all. She swam among them, watching them swirl around her, being careful not to scrape her large, perfectly-formed breasts on the rocks. Out of breath, she shot to the surface and burst clear of the water, falling back in a blissful reverie as she floated in the warm water. Turning on her back again, she backstroked toward the beach and the pile of clothing and beach items that awaited her there. She waited until her trailing hands touched the bottom, then rolled over and stood up, water cascading down her perfect body, her wet hair draped around her shoulders. She strode nude through the shallows and up onto the beach, enjoying the feel of the sun and the breeze on her bare body.

Reaching the pile, she bent down, grabbed a towel, and proceeded to wipe herself dry, thrilling at the touch of her hands on her bare body. Her breasts were perfect, round orbs, and she delighted in their heaviness. In the water, they had actually floated weightlessly up towards her face, but she loved their heaviness when she stood up. She rubbed them dry thoroughly, marveling at the water-balloon way they moved under her hands. The only organs in her body not supported by a bone structure, she knew that that kind of movement was irresistable to men, and had used it to her advantage more than once.

She rubbed down her torso, paying particular attention to the thick triangular patch of pubic hair between her legs. Most women she knew shaved the area, but she saw no reason for it, and felt that it balanced out her mane of black hair quite nicely. And, in case the man was particularly dense, it pointed the way to where she wanted his penis to go. Sometimes men are that dumb, she mused with a smile, but once they were in, they always knew what to do. She stretched herself in the hot sun, feeling ecstasy over her perfect body and the power it held.

She dropped the towel and reached for her sunglasses lying atop her purse--and halted suddenly, the nape of her neck prickling with a warning of danger that she hadn't yet seen. But she knew it was there, and her mind tumbled with ideas of what to do. For she knew one thing for certain.

She was not alone.

TO BE CONTINUED.....
 
Her mind raced with fear and near-panic, and she decided the ony thing to do was to boldly confront whatever was there. She had learned a long time ago that boldness in the face of danger gave her control of the situation, and she could then work out what to do next.

She put on her sunglasses and turned around, not bothering to cover her body--whoever or whatever was there, it had already seen her, and there was no sense covering up. Besides, it gave a shock value that she might be able to exploit.

But she was not ready for what was there. She gasped at the sight of a tall man standing nearby and facing her, dressed in a black monk's robe, his face hidden in the shadows of the robe's cowl.

"Who are you?" she demanded, regaining her poise. "What the hell do you want? Stay away from me, creep!" She glared at him fiercely, arms by her side, black hair swirling in the breeze, fists doubled.

He slowly raised his head so that the sun shone on his face, and her first reaction was a startled gasp. He was wearing a skull mask, and his eyes shone out from the gaping orbital sockets with an intensity that she knew could only be generated by the criminally insane. She was in danger, and she knew it, but she was confident that somehow she could prevail. "Well, dickhead? What's your problem? You've gotten your jollies--now beat it!""

His voice was soft and smooth, echoing from under the mask in dulcet tones. "Do not be afraid. I am here to help you."

"I don't need help from a nutjob in a Halloween mask. Get lost, weirdo."

He made no move, his hands hidden in the folds of his robe. "Ah, but you are the one who already is lost. I am here to help you find the path back to redemption. I have been sent by the Divine Presence, and my mission is to restore your soul to purity. You must come with me."

"Bullshit," she replied. "I'm not going anywhere with you. Quit wasting my time and beat it. You've already spoiled my day--you don't need to stick around any longer."

"Unfortunately, woman, I cannot comply--you will be spending the rest of the day with me. Together, we will redeem your soul and restore it to the path of the Divine One. The process will be long and painful, but it is necessary. The Divine One has seen fit to bestow his attentions on you, and allow you the opportunity to purify yourself for his presence."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" she asked, edging closer to her purse where it lay on the hot sand. "Just my luck--you're not only a wackjob, but a religious one at that. And what do you mean by 'long and painful?' I've no interest in anything you have to offer. Now will you get the hell out of here and leave me alone?"

"Getting the hell out of YOU is my mission, and there is no denying it. It is the will of the Divine, and cannot be resisted. The process, as I've said, will be long and painful, but the rewards--a pure, clean soul, a purified existence--will be well worth it."

"I doubt that," she snarled at him. "Somehow I don't think spending time with you will be worth a whole hell of a lot. Fuck off, asshole.

"There is no resisting it. It will happen. You must come with me, and prepare yourself for the process."

"Oh, I'm prepared, all right." She reached into her purse, and her fingers closed around the can of pepper spray, pulling it out and whirling around to fire it at him.

She was too late. "I am prepared also," he said, and fired the Taser gun that had materialized from his robes.

The twin darts thudded into her rib cage, just below her right breast, the two wires streaming out from the gun's barrel. The resulting shock was like getting hit by a freight train, and her body arched back furiously. The can of pepper spray went flying, and she thudded heavily onto the sand.

TO BE CONTINUED...
 
Karyn's brain struggled desperately to comprehend what had happened. It was screaming at her: Get up! Move! DO something! But her body didn't respond; it was as if she was attached to someone else's body, but not at all in charge. She struggled mightily to raise an arm, but couldn't even do that. Her brain had also been scrambled by the electric charge, unable to fully comprehend her situation, but aware of averything around her. As she lay on her back, she could feel the hot sand beneath her, the sun on her nude, sprawled body, the sounds of the forest behind her, and she could feel the wind moving her hair. She could also see, and she watched as the tall robed figure approached her, winding up the twin wires around the barrel of the taser gun, until he reached her, at which point he pulled the twin darts out of her torso and returned the gun to the folds of his robe. The skull visage stared down blankly at her for a moment, and then he knelt down behind her, pulled her by the head into a sitting position, reached around under her arms, and grasped both breasts. Using them as an anchor point--her body was comletely limp--he began pulling her towards the forest.

Bemused, she could only loll helplessly, watching her heels dig a path through the sand as she was bodily pulled along, feeling his hard hands tugging on her full breasts. He was supporting her weight with his arms under her arms, but, since her limp arms merely lifted when he pulled her, he was using her breasts to secure a grip. It seemed oddly impersonal--he didn't grope her or massage her breasts or touch her nipples; he was simply using them as leverage for what he was doing. It was like he had no sexual interest in her at all.

The robed figure pulled her up against a small tree and propped her there in a sitting position, then pulled her arms around behind the tree. She felt the metallic click of handcuffs being fastened around her wrists, and then he moved back into view, walking towards her beach bag without a backward look, leaving her shackled to the tree. Her mind was beginning to clear, her breathing came a little easier, and she found that she could move her extremities a little.

She lifted her head and watched as he knelt down by her beach bag and began to pore through the contents. She twisted her torso, feeling her body responding as it fought off the results of the taser gun. She had read somewhere that the things packed 50,000 volts of electricity, as did cattle prods. Now she understood why those cows did as they were told when the farmer brandished his prod. She certainly didn't want to experience that again.

Gradually but steadily, she regained use of her limbs and body, and pullede herself into an upright sitting position from where she had been slumping against the tree. She twisted her wrists, testing the handcuffs, but knew that they were secure and locked. She was his prisoner, at least for now. But she would do all she could think of to change that as soon as possible. She had no doubt she was going to be raped--what male in his right mind wouldn't? She was totally naked, totally helpless, and completely at his mercy. Being raped wasn't a big problem for her; it would be just one more male dick inside her, and she'd had plenty of those.

He was through rummaging through her bag. She watched as he kept a few items, and then put some small rocks into her bag. Standing up, he walked to the water's edge, where he swung the bag around over his head several times before launching it out over the lake. It sailed through the air and splashed down, sinking instantly. So much for her clothes and purse, she thought grimly--that damned purse alone had cost her over three hundred dollars. No matter. When she got loose from this moron, she could dive down and retrieve it. A few hours sitting in the sun, and the purse and her clothes would be dry and usable again. Now, how to escape from this kook? She had no doubt that, given the chance, she was going to kill him and leave him to rot in the woods.

He turned around and walked back to her, scrutinizing the items he had kept. He squatted down in front of her and held up her driver's license. "So then, sister Karyn," he said, "are we ready to begin the process of your purification?"

"Depends on what it is, asshole."

"Ah," he said, as he rocked back on his heels, "it is a process that involves much agony, but the results will be worth it."

"Agony, my ass," she replied. "Can you be more specific, dickhead? I might not be interested."

"You will have no choice. It is pre-ordained that you suffer this cleansing process, and you cannot resist it. It is the will of the Divine Presence."

"Who the fuck are you, anyway? And what makes you think your Divine Presence has a hand in this? It sounds like a religious nutcase fantasy, if you ask me."

"You may refer to me however you wish," he replied. "I will not take offense. I am here to help you regain the purity of your soul. That is my only mission. And the Divine One has assigned it to me. He is offering you a chance to regain the correct path. He does not offer that to very many. You should be proud and willing."

"In your dreams," she snorted, shaking back her black hair. "Why would anyone think I'd be willing to cooperate in something that's going to hurt me?"

"Ahh," he replied, "in the end, I am confident that you will not only comply with the wishes of the Divine, but you will do it of your own free will. You will cooperate fully, I am sure."

"Fuck that," she replied. "But just for the sake of clarity, exactly what is it that I'm going to fully and completely cooperate with? You're absolutely nuts, but it'll be fun to see what you have in mind."

He leaned towards her, the skull mask coming within inches of her face. She could smell his breath, and she turned her head away. She hadn't failed to notice that he was leaning against her thighs, pinning her down so she couldn't kick him. "You have been chosen," he said, in a sybilant hiss, "to experience the most honorable way. There are many ways to redemption; yours is special."

He leaned back. "I am going to crucify you, sister Karyn. And you will cooperate completely."

TO BE CONTINUED....
 
"ARE YOU NUTS?!!" Karyn yelled at him. "What kind of asshole, dickheaded, moronic, cock-sucking , dickweed, stupid motherfucker ARE you? You're going to crucify me? And you think I'm going to cooperate? You got another think coming, fuckhead!"

She couldn't see his face under the mask, but somehow she knew he was smiling. "You are the most ignorant asshole around," she continued. "For your information, cockbreath, there's no way you're going to nail my ass to a cross without getting your teeth knocked out." She tugged savagely at the cuffs on her wrists, but only wound up hurting her wrists. "Let me go right now, you motherfucker. I'm not going to play your sadistic little games."

"I assure you it's not a game, and I am very serious about what I'm doing," he responded. "Let me repeat: I am going to crucify you so that the agony will purify your soul and prepare you to take your place beside the Divine One. It is an honor. It is necessary, it is inevitable, and, yes, I am quite sure you will cooperate fully and voluntarily. If you choose not to cooperate, the consequences will be severe."

"Yeah? And what consequences would be more severe than getting my ass nailed to a cross? I can't really think of any."

"Sister Karyn, you will be crucified, willing or not." From the folds of his robe he extracted another taser, this time one that fires when it's pressed against the victim. "With this, I can control you completely. It will be simply a matter of using it whenever necessary, to prevent you from struggling or resisting. You will not be able to resist being nailed to the cross when you cannot move."

She swallowed hard. If there was one thing she didn't want to experience again, it was the teeth-loosening jolt of a taser. But there was no way he was going to crucify her without a fight. She said nothing, just glaring at him.

He reached into his robes again, and this time he pulled out a photograph and held it up before her face. "I took this from your beachbag, sinful woman. Do you recognize it?"

She didn't respond. Her mind was reeling, flailing, struggling to find a way out of this. She wasn't about to answer any more questions; no way was she going to give him any more ammunition to use against her. But deep inside, she knew he had all the ammunition he needed.

He turned the photo around and looked carefully at it. "The two women in this picture bear a striking resemblence to you--I would hazard a guess that they are your mother and your sister, from their respective ages." He turned the photo back towards her, so she could see that it was indeed her mother and her little sister, smiling serenely at the camera. "Am I not correct?"

She shook her head. "No, you're wrong, cadaver-breath. That's a picture of my high school Phys Ed teacher and one of my friends. You're way off, asshole. They're not related to me."

"I'm sure," he responded, unruffled by her lie. "I'm also quite sure that you're lying. I believe my guess was correct. But notice something else about the photo--notice the plaque on the wall of the house behind them. What does it say?"

She glared at him. He turned the photo back towards himself. "It's an address, is it not? I'm quite sure it's the adress where your mother and your sister live."

"You leave my family out of this", she hissed. "They've done nothing wrong. Neither have I."

"Au contraire, dear sister--"

"I'm not your sister, asshole. Knock it off."

He stood up, and the photo disappeared back into the folds of his robe. "We are all brothers and sisters in the presence of the Divine. But back to the subject."

He gazed at her for a few seconds, then said, "I am going to give you a choice, sister Karyn. The choice is simple: one, you will agree to accompany me and cooperate fully in your crucifixion, with no struggles or resistance, doing exactly what I command, and your family will remain safe. Or, two, I will crucify you using the taser as necessary....and then I will go and acquire these two women, and bring them here. Your sister I will crucify next to you. Your mother I will burn at the stake in front of you. The pyre will be made of hardwoods--they burn slowly, and get very, very hot. In effect, I will be roasting your mother alive, until the flames claim her." he spread his arms out. "Those are your choices. Which one do you choose? I personally advise choice number one. Otherwise, your family will share in the agonies of your purification. I will give you a few moments to think it over, and if you do not choose, I will choose for you."

He walked around out of her sight. Karyn struggled with the implications of his choices, but she knew full well that she wasn't going to endanger her family. There really was no other choice.

He re-entered her sight, carrying a short beam of wood, several coils of rope, and a ringlet that, she could see, was made of barbed wire. She knew exactly what that was for. He turned to her. "Well, sister? Have you made your choice? Remember, there is no greater love than to die for someone else. Do you wish to be selfish and bring your family into the picture?"

"How can I trust you that you'll leave them alone if I choose number one? What's to stop you from getting me to cooperate, and then going to get them anyway?"

He leaned down closer to her. "I am on a mission for the Divine. I cannot be in His employ and tell a lie. Trust me. If you choose number one, your family is safe."

She took a deep breath. "Very well," she said, "you win. I choose option number one. Nail my ass up, and leave them alone."
 
Karyn, of course, had no intention of giving up that easily. She would have no compunctions whatsoever about killing this guy if the opportunity arose. She saw no reason to keep her promise to him, when the end result would be a long and agonizing death. She had studied karate and was fairly adept at it, and when the opportune moment arose, she would use those karate skills.

The photograph complicated things, to be sure. He had said that any resistance on her part would result in the deaths of her mother and sister, so whenever she was able to strike, it had to be fast, efficient, and deadly. If she failed at her attempt, the consequences were enormous. She had to choose her moment with care. But she was sure that moment would arrive....

"Excellent choice," he responded, "So let us begin." He went over and hoisted the four-foot-long beam, and Karyn saw that it was notched in the middle. "This is the crossbeam of your cross. You will carry it to the purification site."

"How far is that, cocksucker?"

"A fair distance away. It will take some time to get there, although, given the consequences to your family, I don't think you'll be ambling along. A fair pace and a brisk one."

Karyn eyed the beam he was holding. To her, it looked like a bludgeon that she could use on him. "Okay. Let me loose, and I'll carry it. No problem."

He chuckled. "You will be turned loose. But not quite yet." He went around behind the tree she was shackled to, and she could hear him set the beam down against a nearby tree. "Very well, then," he whispered over her shoulder, "let us begin. Stand up."

He gripped her upper arm as she struggled awkwardly to her feet, hands still shackled behind her, and helped her up. "Okay," he said, "now kneel down, with your feet on either side of the tree."
"What the fuck...? Are we playing musical chairs or something? I'm sitting down, you stand me up, and now I gotta kneel?"

"Just di it," he replied, and the menace in his voice was clearly audible. "If I were to construe that as resistance--since you haven't done what I told you to do--There could be painful repercussions, for you and others."

"Okay, okay," Karyn said hastily, "Don't get your shorts all knotted up." She sank down to her knees and placed her feet on both sides of the tree. It was an awkward position, but she felt she could hold it okay. She felt his hands on her ankles, and was surprised when a pair of handcuffs were shackled to them. "What the hell," she said, "How many pockets you got in that damned thing?"

"Enough for my purposes," he said behind her, and then she felt the cuffs being removed from her wrists. She brought her arms around in front of her and massaged her bruised wrists. Her feet were still shackled, though, so she knew she wasn't free yet. "Now, get down on all fours." She did as she was told.

"Hey, brother love, how are you going to butt-fuck me this way? My ass is still up against the tree."

"That is not my purpose." He came around beside her, and she saw, from the corner of her eye, the end of a leather belt draped on the ground. "We must first flog you, dear sister, to begin the ritual."

"Flog me---?!!" Her outburst was cut off by the leather strap whistling through the air, and she grunted as it slashed across her bare back. The stinging was acute, and she gasped for air. The whip came down across her back again, and she fell to her elbows in pain.

"Up," he commanded. "On all fours--and stay there." She struggled back up and breathed heavily, her black hair tumbling across her shoulders, and her large breasts hanging down like udders on a cow. She steeled herself for the next blow.

Nor did she have to wait long. Again and again, the leather belt slashed across her bare back, the stinging pain causing her to sweat profusely. Trembling as she supported herself on her hands, she shook the sweat out of her eyes. She couldn't feel any blood trickling down, so she knew the whip wasn't opening her up. It was designed just to hurt, not to maim. "Oh, thank goodness for that," she muttered sardonically.

Again and again and again, the hissing belt slashed at her back, from her buttocks up to her shoulders. Once in a while, he would hit her such that the belt curled around her side and slashed across her breasts. As her hanging breasts bounced and swayed from the blows, she could only grit her teeth and try to struggle on.
 
She had long since lost count of the number of times the leather strap had slashed across her back, but she didn't think she could take much more. She was sweating profusely, and her arms were trembling from the strain of trying to maintain her position. Her breathing came in gasps, punctuated by a heavy grunt each time the belt met her skin. She gritted her teeth and willed herself to hold on; she was not going to cater to his needs and scream--much though she felt like doing so.

At last, the whipping stopped. She sank down onto her elbows, her back a mass of stinging agony, and croaked out, "Okay, brother piss-ant, how many was that?"

The Biblical norm--what they call the 'Moses Rule'. Forty stripes less one."

She shook her head as she listened to him doing something behind her. Thirty-nine lashes. No wonder she hurt so much.

"Okay, sister Karyn," came his voice behind her. "Stand up, and raise your arms over your head."

She struggled upright, leaning heavily against the tree, and raised her arms. Her wrists were quicky seized and pulled behind trhe tree, where the handcuffs were reapplied. She stood, her naked body glistening with sweat, in the morning sun, arms pinioned overhead, feet still shackled to the tree. He moved around in front of her, and she saw that he still held the leather strap. Her heart sank. "Oh, no," she moaned, "not the boobs. Please, not the boobs."

"Yes," came the sybillant whisper. "The breasts are a symbol of womanhood, and as such they represent the evil wiles of your gender." He raised the leather, and brought it slashing across her breasts. She grunted and sagged to the side as her breasts, still wobbling from the blow, began to fiercely sting. He backhanded her with the whip, again slashing across her breasts--this time squarely contacting her nipples. She threw her head back and groaned, and then, relentlessly, the blows continued. Her breasts were in constant motion, jiggling from side to side under the whip, until she felt that they were going to be torn off. Mercifully, he then switched targets, methodically whipping her down across the torso, the abdomen, the pelvis, and her thighs, before working his way back up again. Karyn could do nothing but sag against the tree, trying to twist and turn to escape the blows--but to no avail. There was no sanctuary from this assault on her breasts, but after a few more hard blows, she opened her eyes and saw him coiling the strap up. She breathed a sigh of relief, her reddened breasts rising and falling with each breath.He moved around behind her, and she felt him unshacles her wrists. She dropped to her knees and held her breasts, trying to massage the stinging agony away. Her entire body hurt, but her breasts had always been sensitive, and they were screaming silently now.

As soon as she could catch her breath, she said over her shoulder, "So on top of everything else, you're a mysoginist, too? Do you really hate women that much?"

"No. There is no hatred in my heart; only the realization that women are the chief cause of all misery on Earth. They are born with incredible powers, and they use those powers to attempt the ruination of mankind. And they are succeeding. The Divine One has sensed this, and appointed me to begin saving those who are the most sinful, by the proper application of pain. That is my only concern--to purify your soul so that the sins of your gender can be forgiven."

"Did it ever occur to you that a woman gave birth to you, and suckled you so that you could live? How sinful is that?"

"Be that as it may, the emhasis today is on you--we will continue with the process. Raise your arms out to the sides."

Still kneeling, she did as she was told, spreading her arms wide. She felt him place the heavy beam across her shoulders and guide her arms behind and over it. Swiftly, he lashed both wrists to the beam, and then passed a few loops of rope under her armpits and around the beam. She groaned inwardly--he had forseen the fact that she could have pressed the beam over her head, brought it down in front of her, and confront him with a lethal weapon. The prick was always one jump ahead of her, it seemed. He had allowed her absolutely no chance to retaliate.

As she kneeled in front of the tree, carrying the beam across her shoulders--it wasn't heavy, being only a regulation 4-by-4--she watched him pick up the barbed-wire ringlet from the ground in front of her, and approach her with his arms held out, as if he was a bishop preparing to crown her. Crowning her, she realized, was exactly what he was going to do. He held the crown of barbed wire in front of her for several seconds, so that she could get a good look at it. It was a thick mass of rusted barbed wire fencing, twisted around itself into a circle, with, as far as she was concerned, far too many of the barbs on the inside of the crown. "I hate to say this, prick--but isn't it supposed to be a crown of thorns?"

"Alas, there are no thorns large enough in the United States. The original crown of thorns was made from a shrub that grows only in the Middle East. But this will be a worthy substitute, I believe."

He raised the crown over her head,and she was sorely tempted to head-butt him in the groin. But she couldn't do that--not without endangering her family.

"Raise your chin," he told her,and she did so. He held the crown above her for a minute, then hissed, "Only one other such crown was ever utilized. You are in worthy company, my dear sinful sister." You should rejoice in that fact. It is an incredible honor."

"What the fuck do I care about honor? It doesn't look like much of an honor from my viewpoint."

"Then trust me. It is." He lowered the crown onto her head, let it rest for a moment, and then forcefully and savagely shoved it down. She felt the barbs tearing furrows in her scalp and forehead, and groaned at the agony. He shoved it down until it was in position, just over her ears and across her forehead. She felt a thick wetness on her forehead, and knew that he had drawn the first blood of the day. She felt several rivulets of blood beginning to trickle down over her eyes and down her cheeks. She moaned and swayed, inadvertently--and unknowingly--urinating as she knelt. The pain was like nothing she had ever felt, but then he pressed the crowen hard against her heads, driving the barbs deeper. She was gasping--every move of her face, every grimace, every eyebrow motion--brought fresh, sharp pain.

He moved around behind her, and she felt her ankles being uncuffed. She was free from THAT tree--now she was a prisoner of another one,the one riding across her shoulders. She continued kneeling, swaying from pain and dizziness. He brought his skull-face close to hers.

"Rise, sister Karyn. You are the blessed one now--let your agony be a sacrifice to the merciful justice of the Divine Presence. Feel it as it begins to cleanse your soul, and prepares you for the path to redemption."

She had nothing to say; awkwardly, she struggled to her feet and stood swaying in the sun, blood streaming down her face. He stood looking at her for a few moments, taking in the--he had to admit it--perfection of her naked body and large, shapely breasts. She was glistening with sweat, and the eyes that looked out at him from the tangle of crowned bloody hair around her face had lost some of their feistiness. Excellent, he thought. It proceeds nicely.

"Now then," he said to her," it is time to begin the journey to your salvation.."
 
Sorry about the delay in the next chapter--had a few medical issues to deal with. But I'll probably write the next chapter on Tuesday. Glad you like it--I'm kinda surprised by the scarcity of comments, but oh, well, tally-ho! and on to the next chapter--soon.
 
Don't worry about the comments, you've had a lot of looks. Keep up the good work.

THT
 
Karyn stood in the bright sunlight, beam across her shouders, and tried to shake the blood out of her eyes. Her brain was reeling from the agony inflicted on her by the crown of barbed wire, but she knew that if she didn't get free, she would experience even greater agony. She glowered at the tall, skull-masked figure who stood watching her serenely.

"Getting your jollies, motherfucker?" she asked. "If you like looking at naked women so much, why didn't you just go to a strip joint?"

"Strip parlors hold no interest for me," he replied, "and neither does a naked woman. I am reveling in the fact that you have started on your journey to redemption."

"Well, let's have a party, "she said sarcastically. "And what man doesn't like looking at a naked woman? Are you some kind of homo freak?"

"No. I have no sexual interests. My sole goal is to provide the means of redemption for sinners such as yourself. Now, let us be on our way."

"What direction, asshole? Or do I get to choose for myself?"

"No, you have no choices anymore. Behind the tree you were shackled to, you will find a deer trail. We will follow that."

She stood glaring at him, her legs slightly apart to stabilize her swaying body. She had no choice, she knew, but to follow his directions--but she could make it difficult for him without stepping over the line that would doom her family. She remained where she was.

"Are you resisting me?" he asked, menacingly. "I have no patience for that." Without warning, the leather strap appeared in his hand again, and he sent it slashing between her spread legs.

As the fiery pain exploded from her vulva, she gritted her teeth and growled, "You son of a bitch. You didn't actually tell me to start walking."

"A mere technicality," he replied, "and one I will no longer tolerate. The path is behind you. Move. Now."

She turned unsteadily, making sure not to spread her legs again. She could barely walk from the stinging in her groin, but forced herself to enter the underbrush. Sure enough, there was the deer trail, snaking off into the woods as far as the eye could see. She began walking along it, feeling the dirt under her bare feet. Once into the woods, where no breeze penetrated, the temperature and humidity soared, making her sweat even more. Her mouth was becoming dry, but she said nothing as she walked along, twisting as necessary so that the beam she carried cleared low-hanging branches. She stumbled over a rotten piece of wood in the path that gave way under her weight, sendfing her staggering along the path, her breasts wobbling as she went. Catching her balance, she continued on, threading her way along the path that would lead her to extreme agony. He had said that it would be a long walk--plenty of time to come up with some means to brain him. She twisted her head and looked back. Sure enough, he was there, following about six feet behind her, seeming to glide across the ground in his long robe.
The leather strap was held at the ready, and he shook it menacingly as she looked at him. She returned her gaze to the path before her and continued walking.

But something wasn't right. She felt strange, in a way she only felt when......she looked down at her large breasts, and was shocked to find that her nipples were fully engorged, sticking nearly an inch out from her boobs. Her groin, despite the stinging residual pain, was fluttering inside, and she felt a trickle of sticky wetness on the inside of her thigh. What the hell--? She suddenly realized that she was sexually aroused, and more so than ever before. Her nipples had never stuck that far out, even when she was having the best sex of her life. Could she be actually enjoying this? She tried to clear her head by shaking the blood from her eyes, but there was no doubt. She was walking to her death, and she was sexually aroused by it.

How could this be? She had never before had any interest in bondage. Why then was she so aroused now? But she was, very much so.

"Hey, brother sunshine," she said over her shoulder. "When do you plan on fucking me? I don't believe you have no interest in women."

"Why do you find that so hard to believe?" he replied in his silky smooth voice. "There are many of us who choose to follow the spiritual path, not the path of carnal desires."

"Bullshit," she responded, "even nuns and priests have their sexual interests, no matter how hard they try to cover them up. Just read the papers. And how many evangalists have been dethroned because of their sexual antics? I can think of quite a few."

"Ah, but I have taken steps to insure that my sexual interests are minimal. I have no interest in women, and, truthfully, no way to consumate such an interest if I had it."

"No way to----what?" The sudden truth dawned on her, and she turned to face him in astonishment. "You--you're a EUNICH? You cut your balls off?" She stood staring at him in amazement, and he made no move to whip her back into motion. "I don't believe it! What kind of a stupid asshole would do that?"

"Far from being a 'stupid asshole', I believe it was the smartest move I've ever made. It brought tremendous peace with it, and freed me from the burdens of sexual lust. I have no regrets, and I have no desire to have intercourse with you."

"It's called 'fucking,' dipwad". Don't be shy about it. And you still have a dick, don't you. You can probably still get it up." he made no response, simply standing there quietly in front of her. "You gotta be kidding me," she said wonderingly, "you cut off your dick, too?"

"Sexual organs, and the lust they stir up, are the root of all evil. I am tempted, sometime during your redemption, to remove yours as well."

"Fuck you. Don't touch my boobs."

The whip slashed out faster than her eyes could see, and her breasts bounced wildly from the impact. The stinging pain dropped her to her knees, gasping for breath. He strode forward, seized her left breast and pulled it out from her body as far as it would go. He then brought the leather strap slashing down across the top of it. Letting it go, so that it bounced and jiggled back into position, he leaned close to her and snarled, "I can and will touch your breasts as needed. Don't ever presume to give me orders again." He grasped the beam she carried and hauled her upright, turning her around as he did so. The whip slashed across her back, and she stumbled forward.

Now she knew she was in trouble. She had thought maybe she could use his sexual lusts against him somewhere down the line, but now she knew that that was no longer an option. She trudged along the path, her mind racing. She had been kidnapped by a true fucking weirdo, and she had no idea what to do next. In truth, there was only one thing she COULD do.

She continued down the forested path that would lead her to her crucifixion site.
 
The deer trail meandered through the thick forests, periodically breaking out into open meadowlands or shallow valleys, where the hot sun beat down on Karyn's naked body as she trudged along. Gleaming with a sheen of sweat, the muscles of her thighs and hips bunched and tensesed as she walked, head down, drops of blood dripping off the end of her nose and trickling down her face. Her breasts swayed before her, and her thoughts returned to her erect nipples and the fluttering in her groin. The nipples were hard to miss; she saw them every time she looked down to watch her footing. There was no doubt about it: she was getting a serious sexual hard-on from her ordeal. The beam across her shoulders wasn't heavy, but having her arms spread out and lashed to the ends of it put tremendous strain on her pectoral muscles and shoulders, which were beginning to complain. The blood trickling down her face, and the raw agony of the barbed wire crown that caused it, was agonizing, yet exciting. Somehow, despite the fact that she was a prisoner of this religious idiot and was walking to her doom, there was a feeling of superiority centered on her nude body that was mystifying--although she guessed it probably had to do with the attention such a nude body would get if she were walking down a road lined with onlookers.

But she wasn't. She was trudging down a deep woods path, followed by the sinister robed form of her captor, and she forced her thoughts back to reality. Somehow, some way, she had to get free from this sociopathic asshole. There was always the chance that someone would stumble across them--plenty of people, one would think, went hiking in the deep woods. But she knew that that was a forlorn hope and a long shot, at best. They were deeper into the woods than she had ever been, and she had seen no sign of human activity in the last few miles. As if to underscore her thinking, the figure behind her whispered, "How many people do you think come this way?"

She stopped and turned towards him, disgust clearly evident on her face. "Looks like only two," she replied, "Me, and this asshole following me."

He chuckled, then turned her to look into a small, deep ravine alongside the trail. "Take a look in there," he said. "Tell me what you see."

Karyn peered into the ravine, and spotted something at the end. A closer look revealed an old, rusting, antique steam locomotive, covered with the exuberant wild growths of the forest. It sat, forlorn and neglected, on a set of rusty rails, a tree growing out of the smokestack, vines covering it in profusion, slwoly returning to the elemental dust from which it arose.

"It is a Shay locomotive," the skull-faced figure said, " a relic of the lumbering days abandoned here when the forests were logged off." He turned to look at her. "It is a significant historical relic, one that would justify an immense amount of effort to retrieve for restoration and museum display. And yet it sits here, alone and forsaken. What does that tell you?"

She sighed heavily. "I get your point. It means that no one has been back here in over a century."

"Correct." He turned her back towards the trail and gave her a small push to get her walking again. "So the chance of anyone stumbling across us is extremely remote."

"What the fuck. Do you read my mind, asshole?"

"No. I merely understand what your thought processes are at the moment. There is always the hope, on your part, that someone will see us and rescue you--but it is a forlorn hope. Please continue down the path."

Continue she did. She had no idea how far, or for how long, they had walked, but it seemed like forever. The deer trail stretched on out ahead, seemingly endless. She spoke to him over her shoulder: "Hey, brother asshole, what's with the stilted talk? I mean, come on, no slang, no contractions, nothing but the Queen's English. People don't talk like that anymore."

"If I am to serve the perfect Divine presence, I must be as perfect as possible myself. That includes my speech patterns, and the words I can or cannot utilize."

"Words such as 'stupid asshole?' You said those just a while back, repeating what I had said. Doesn't sound very perfect to me."

There was a low chuckle behind her. "You are correct, sister Karyn. I should not have spoken those words. I will have to punish myself for that. You tricked me into reciting them, and I admire you for that."

"Yeah? Well, how about I administer the punishment to you? I can think of some good methods to redeem your perfection."

"Quite unnecessary. We are in the process of redeeming YOUR perfection. I can take care of my own redemption."

"Oh, but just think what a redemtpion you'd have if I were in charge of it."

"There is no need to think of that. It will not come to pass. Look at the eroded shoulder of the path beside you. What do you see?"

Karyn peered through the sweat and blood dripping into her eyes. The eroded bank stretched for some twenty feet alongside the trail, and sticking out of the bank were some odd protrusions--grey, weathered sticks, from the look of it. Her captor reached out and dug with his hand in the bank, and pulled out a weathered human skull. It was then that Karyn realized the "sticks" she had seen were,in reality, human bones. She looked at her soon-to-be executioner as he stood silently, turning the skull over and over in his hands.

"Some of your earlier victims, I presume?" she asked.

"Not at all. They are very ancient bones. We are walking alongside an ancient Indian cemetary--a remarkable archaeological site that would attract considerable attention from archaeologists and, most likely, present-day tribal members. Do you understand what this means?"

"Yeah, I get it, dipweed. It means no human has been through here for a thousand years or better. I got the message. No one is going to stumble across us and rescue me."

"Precisely. And now, we shall leave the trail and ascend the small hill to the left of us. After you."

"Okay, fucker, I'm going, I'm going." Karyn left the path and began struggling up the hill. She continued talking: "Hey, brother love, something interesting is happening. I think I'm kinda enjoying this."

"I know. I saw your nipples. They are quite erect, aren't they? You are obviously sexually aroused, and I must tell you that that is completely normal. You are beginning to relish the prospect of your imminent redemption. You are beginning to feel the joy and wonder of the agony you must endure, and it is manifesting itself in the most pleasurable sensation that we, as a species, can experience."

"Bullshit," Karyn gasped as she struggled further up the steep hill. "I'm fucking horny. Am I going to be able to have an orgasm sometime during this redemption? I'm not sure I can manage one by myself."

"Are you insinuating that you want me to masterbate you into an orgasm during your ordeal? That is an interesting proposition--one that I will give due consideration to."

"Why don't you just say it--yes or no, you're going to diddle my twat." Somehow, the thought of having an orgasm while on the cross was reaching a powerful crescendo within her.

"We shall see." They had reached the top of the hill, and Karyn stopped, stunned. Her captor glided up behind her and whispered, "Yes, we have arrived. Welcome to Golgotha."
 
It was done. Within minutes, Karyn had been tied down on the cross--cooperating all the way, due to the family picture he kept out before her eyes--and the spikes were not long in coming. She had thrashed and stifled her screams as the spikes were pounded in, slowly and deliberately, until she was pinned to the cross by her wrists and feet, blood gushing from her impaled extremities, her breasts heaving as she gasped and groaned, tears filling her eyes as she tried not to give him the satisfaction of screaming.

He took a minute to nail an inscribed plaque to the head of her cross, then with a heave and a grunt sent her skyward. The cross swayed and rocked as he struggled to raise it upright, but it finlly went where it was supposed to--he was stronger than he looked. With a heavy thump, the foot of the cross went into the waiting hole, and the cross rocked as Karyn struggled on it, overwhelmed with the agony. Her abductor waited a moment to catch his breath, then proceeded to pound some waiting shims into the hole beside the cross,until he had pounded enough in to stabilize the cross. He then stepped backwards, hands on hips, and looked appreciatively at his creation.

Karyn was crucified. It had really happened, and it had finally happened, and as she struggled to find some relief from the agony, she knew it was final--she was really going to die up here.

She already felt like she was dying. The piercing agony of her impaled extremities screamed through her in an unrelenting torrent. Stretched out at arms' length, she felt as if she weighed a thousand pounds, and each pound was trying to tear her arms off at the socket. Her pectoral muscles had already been sore from having her arms stretched out while carrying her crossbeam, and this multiplied the agony a thousandfold. She struggled for a few minutes, ignoring the pain in her impaled feet as she placed her weight on them, feeling their bones crackle and pop underneath her. Finally, she fell silent and hung, exhausted, by her arms, her wet hair hanging limply, held back from her face by the crown of barbed wire she wore. There were fresh drops of blood dripping off her nose, new punctures being opened by her frantic struggles.

Skullface turned and walked away, to where a small camping tent and camping implements were waiting. He began to busily cook up some soup, then turned away from her to ingest it, so she couldn't see his face.

"Hey, bonehead," she croaked from the cross, "are you really that fucking ugly, that you can't let me see your face?" She shifted and grunted as she struggled upright, forcing her weight on her bloody feet, and continued in a stronger voice: "Seems to me it should be safe to show me now, since I seem to be up here permanently. Who am I gonna tell?"

He took his time before answering, finishing off his soup and replacing the mask. He turned to her. "Yes, it's true you are there for eternity. But I must remain anonymous--it would not be beneficial to my work to let my identity be known, even to a condemned person such as yourself." He approached the foot of the cross, carrying a folding camping table, upoon which Karyn could see were various implements and tools that looked all too much like torture tools. She groaned and put her head back, ignoring the stabs of pain from the crown as she rested her head against the upright. "Oh, fuck," she said, "can't you just let me hang here and die peacefully? Do you gotta torture me too?"

"Yes," he replied simply, "I do."
 
i must say i was slightly disappointed at the quick pace of crucifixion when compared to the rest of the story..however, you have made me wait eagerly for the next update by mentioning torture on the cross..that is something i have not seen much..
 
Karyn helplessly surveyed the scene before her. In the middle of the clearing atop the hill, surrounded by dense forest, was a long 4X4 post, lying atop other, smaller 4X4's, whose job was to keep the long post off the ground. The long post, she noted, was notched, exactly as was the crossbeam she had carried here. Locked togethern at the notches, they would form the cross on which she would die.

Off to the side was a small tent, with camping gear arranged around it, with an empty backpack leaning against a tree. She turned to look at her abductor. "What the hell...? A campsite? Just how long are we planning to be out here?"

"As long as it takes," was the cryptic reply.

"Oh, great. Not bad enough I have to die, but now it's gonna take days? Whatever happened to the breaking of the legs thing?"

"That would be messy. You will not be allowed any such mercy. You will ride your cross until you die, or until you are killed."

"Killed? What do you mean, killed? If you're not going to break my legs or whatever, who is going to kill me?"

"Trust me: there are plenty of denizens out here who will get a chance at you." He took her by the nape of her neck and gave her a firm push towards the middle of the clearing. Confused by what he meant, she stumbled forward, towards the long post on the ground. She shuddered as she saw, lying in the dirt beside it, two eight-inch garden spikes, and one twelve-inch long one. She knew what they were for.

She reached the prone 4X4, and looked around at her tormentor. "Can I catch my breath before we start, please? That was a long fucking walk."

"You are stalling for time." The photograph of her family materialized from his robe; he held it up for her to see. "There will be no more delays. Take your position on the cross. Do it now."

She looked at him despairingly, feeling her self-confidence fading quickly. She was at a dangerous point in her journey; once she lay down on the cross, she was doomed. But her mind could conceive of no other escape--a reaslity brought into sharp focus by his hiss: "Are you disobeying me? Do you wish me to bring your family here?"

"No! No. I'll do what you want." She stepped forward, turned around, and straddled the prone post. Awkwardly, she sat down on it, then tried to lay down gracefully. The beam across her shoulder pulled her down, and he was quick to catch the crossbeam, guide it into position on the long post, and hammer the two together with some nails.

She was now lying on a fully-developed cross. She shifted her legs restlessly as he set about untying her left wrist, gripping it firmly and bringing it to the top of the crossbeam, where he re-tied it firmly, her wrist placed exactly over a small hole previously drilled in the wood. He repeated the act with her right wrist, and then moved toward her feet. Warily, he kneeled down next to her, and reminded her to "not try anything. If you resist at all, your family is doomed. I will have no compunction in bringing them here to join you." He leaned towards her and hissed, "In fact, I would love to do so. Don't give me any reason to carry this out."

"I won't," she sasid meekly, and didn't resist as he strapped her feet together, one over the other, with duct tape. He then set her feet into position on the upright, and duct-taped her bound feet to it.

She was now fastened securely to the cross. She lay in the hot sun, breathing deeply, feeling the weight of her breasts as they lay over to the sides of her rib cage, their nipples pointed defiantly at the sky. She had never been more scared--and never been more aroused. Her helplessness as she lay naked on the cross, awaiting his next move, was incredibly exciting. She had never been in a helpless situation like this before; the newness and the awesome realization of what was to come had her oozing lubricating fluids from her vagina; she could feel the wet stickiness between her muscular thighs. She wanted to have an orgasm--wanted it badly--but was unable to do it herself; she could only rely on his half-promise to her voiced earlier. But if she couldn't orgasm, it was going to be excruciating.

She had lost sight of him as he moved back behind her head. She twisted her head to try to see him, andf found him preparing to nail a plaque of wood to the top of the upright. Seeing her looking, he briefly turned it so she could see it. Scrawled across the plaque was the word "SLUT."

"That's not very polite," she said, some of her bravado returning. "How about you write "Free Spirit" on there instead?"

"What I have written, I have written. It will stay." He then placed it in position above her head and nailed it to the cross.

"Well, then, how about you write 'Unlucky Slut' on it? My day was going just fine until you showed up."

"You day is going to become very interesting. Are you ready to begin the process of your redemption?"

"Gee, do I get a choice? Nope. Not ready at all. Let's delay it for a while."

"Wishful thinking. No, we will begin now."
 
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