Of Executioners and Executees: my crucifixion manifesto [semi-com/reluctant]

[Zephirantes]

I started this just for fun, eventually it is becoming something like... my own personal crucifixion manifesto.
Sorta.
A statement of what I find exciting in the snuff fiction, in the executees, in the executioners, in their intimate relationship, in power differences, in the execution itself.
At least... for now. My ideas on these subjects change quickly, as my desires and excitements: what seems so exciting to me now might become boring in a while, and perhaps come back with a vengeance a couple of days later.
Every comment/criticism is very welcome.
Direct speech is in bold.

- - -

Of Executioners and Executees: my crucifixion manifesto


"Michelle, honey, it's your turn. We have to prepare you for your crucifixion." Sally's voice was gentle yet firm, a strange mix of sympathy and detachment.

"No, please, there must be another way... the cross is too final... and too painful!" Michelle's voice trembled with fear, her eyes wide with the terror of the unknown.

"Oh, sweetie, I know it's scary. But think of it this way – you're going to be the star of the show. Your beautiful bare body, your raw emotions, they'll all be on display. It's a unique performance, and you, my dear, are the lead actress." Sally tried to infuse a bit of excitement into the grim situation.

"I will be affixed naked... everybody will see my nude body, my neighbors, my friends... my family. Naked and in pain, dying, and... helpless like that, I heard I might be tortured and stimulated in my intimate parts..." Michelle's voice cracked as she envisioned the ordeal.

"You'll be surprised how the body might react. It's quite a thrilling experience, and unique to every sentenced girl. Who knows, you might even be among those lucky crucified girls that enjoy the attention on their sweet pussy and perky nipples." Sally's tone was oddly reassuring.

"Yeah honey, you might cum as we twist your nipples and clit. Some girls do, at least." Jake, one of the executioners, chimed in with a smirk.

"Cumming in front of everyone? That would be so humiliating!" Michelle's cheeks flushed at the thought.

"Oh, come on, it's not every day you get an audience for your big O. Besides, it would be the natural response of your healthy young bod. We're all about authenticity here." Sally's voice was almost cheerful.

"Hey, Michelle, don't worry, we'll take good care of you. And about your little lady parts, we'll be gentle... or not, depending on what the crowd wants, eh?" The other executioner, Tom, joined the conversation with a grin.

"Yeah, still not yet decided if to caress them gently, or pull and squeeze 'em with red-hot pincers, ah ah!" His laugh was a mix of dark humor and casual cruelty.

"Oh, these two men, always with the gallows humor. But seriously, Michelle, your suffering, your death, it's all part of a beautiful, tragic story. You'll be remembered." Sally's words were intended to be comforting.

"I won't lie, it will hurt. Terribly. And for a long time. And will end only with your death. But remember, the pain is just part of the journey. The stretching, the tearing, it's all part of reaching that final climax of life." Sally was blunt, yet her voice held a strange kind of warmth.

"Yeah, and who knows, maybe you'll set a new record for the longest orgasm on a cross. Wouldn't that be something?" Jake's comment was both crass and lighthearted.

"I suppose if I'm going to die, I might as well give them a good show, I guess... it's just so scary, my life is gonna end soon, in pain, and... helplessly pinned to a wooden cross, in front of a cheering crowd... oh god..." Michelle's acceptance was shaky, mixed with a rising panic.

"You know, we had a girl last month, she was scared too. But she performed very well..." Sally began another tale to distract Michelle.

"You mean... she suffered a lot? And for a long time?" Michelle was both curious and horrified.

"Yeah, sweetheart, that's the purpose of nailing a pretty healthy girl like you on a cross: to hurt you and make you squirm and struggle in pain. But trust me, she gave a beautiful show. And so you'll do too, with that pretty and toned body of yours..." Jake's words were strangely encouraging.

"Plus, the way the crowd cheers, the way they admire your bravery, your naked beauty, it's something else. You become an icon, a symbol of something greater than yourself." Tom's voice held an odd note of admiration.

Michelle looked at them, her eyes reflecting a mix of fear and curiosity. "Will it really be like that?"

"Absolutely," Sally assured her. "And remember, your climax, whether in agony or ecstasy, is a powerful moment. It's raw, it's real, it's you at your most vulnerable and beautiful. On the cross you cannot hide anything: nor the delicate folds of your pussy... nor your real feelings!"

"And hey, think about it. You're going to be the main attraction. People will talk about this for years. 'Remember Michelle's crucifixion?' they'll say. 'She was magnificent. She squirted girl juice from her gaping pussy just as she died!'" Jake's words were crude yet oddly poetic in their own dark and pornographic way.

Michelle took a deep breath, trying to process it all. "Maybe... maybe, I can do this. It's not that I have much choice, after all. So... let's... let's do it. Do it to me." Then, after a pause, she added, "do me."

"That's the spirit, my dear Michelle. Let's give them a performance they'll never forget. Now, could you please undress? Show us your body please." Sally's tone was professional, yet there was a hint of excitement in her voice.

"Yeah, your bod is just the material we have to work with, as your executioners..." Tom's words were blunt, yet there was an undeniable sense of anticipation.

Michelle hesitated for a moment, then slowly began to undress, her hands trembling. As she revealed her body and her intimate parts, the executioners exchanged looks of approval. She was toned and slightly muscular, with small breasts, but two nipples hard as rock, and an activated clit, emerging from her clitoral hood! Like, a pup checking the surrounding!

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes! That toned body of yours will look amazing suffering and dying on the cross." Tom couldn't hide his admiration.

"Yeah, and look at those perky breasts and that smooth pussy. The crowd will go wild." Jake added, eyeing her appreciatively.

"I would spend hours just looking at the delicate folds of your twat, honey. Heck, I will probably do, when you'll be nailed and affixed to slowly die on your wooden cross!" Sally commented with a mix of professionalism and a strange kind of enthusiasm.

Michelle, now fully naked, stood there feeling exposed and vulnerable. "This is so embarrassing..."

"Embarrassment is the least of your worries, darling. Remember, you will be hurt and ultimately killed, by us." Sally reminded her with a soft but firm tone.

"You're so gentle with me, and yet..." Michelle's voice trailed off, a mixture of fear and confusion evident.

"Yes, we are your executioner, and torturers. But there's no need to insult you or calling you names, just because we are tasked to inflict you pain. I think agony is better if inflicted to you by someone with a soothing smile and a gentle word, don't you think so?" Tom's voice was oddly comforting.

"Yeah, I... I guess..." Michelle's response was hesitant, her mind clearly struggling with the reality of her situation.

"But don't worry, once you're up there, all those feelings of pain and humiliation might well morph into something else... something more... primal." Sally tried to reassure her, massaging her shoulders, though her words did little to comfort.

"Now, we want to touch your delicate buds honey: nipples and clit. And why not, finger your pussy a little. So that we know you better, deeper... it will be important when we will torture and stimulate those same parts when you'll be on the cross." Jake's suggestion was said in a tone that was almost clinical.

"Oh... ok... okay. But please, be gentle with my... parts." Michelle's voice was small, her fear and trepidation evident.

"Now we will, my dear. But when your very public death-show shall start, we shall show no mercy I'm afraid... not to you, nor your sexual parts. But rest assured for now..." Sally's words were a strange mix of comfort and threat.

The executioners began their exploration, their touches gentle yet invasive. Michelle's body responded despite her fear, her nipples hardening further under their fingers, her clit throbbing lightly. She closed her eyes, trying to distance herself from the reality of the situation.

"See, your body is already responding. It knows what's coming, and it's preparing itself. That's a good thing, Michelle. It means you'll give a great performance." Jake's voice was encouraging as he observed her reactions.

"Yeah, look at her. She's already getting wet. The crowd's gonna love this." Tom noted, his tone a mix of admiration and anticipation.

"You're going to be such a star, Michelle. Your agony, your ecstasy, it's going to be a performance like no other. And remember, your pain and your pleasure, they're just two sides of the same coin." Sally's words were strangely poetic, and thrilling.

 

[Zephirantes]

"Do you like being... treated like this? To feel your body being masturbated by us? Your killers, in a sense." Jake's voice was soft but laced with a perverse curiosity as his hands continued their ministrations on her flesh.

"I... I feel excited, knowing that your hands... the hands that now stimulate me... they will soon hurt and execute me... they will torture the very same spots they are now caressing... oh..." Michelle's response was a mix of fear and an unexpected arousal, her voice trembling.

"I will go deeper into your... flower." Sally's words were both a promise and a threat as she gently probed her, exploring her innermost parts.

"Oh... you're so deep in me..." Michelle gasped, her body involuntarily responding to the touch despite her mind's turmoil.

"Always maintain eye contact with the person that is working on you... either masturbating or... torturing you. Let your soul open to my invasion, as your body..." Sally advised, her gaze locked with Michelle's.

"An executioner wants to see the pain grow and blossom into you, wants to see you processing and dealing with it..." Tom added, his eyes piercing into Michelle.

"Yeah, honey, let's spread your petals." Bob joined in, his fingers skillfully manipulating her, opening her up for their viewing pleasure.

As Michelle stood there, the paradox of her situation was stark; the very people tasked with her execution were now intimately familiar with her hot flesh, causing a whirlwind of sensations that left her confused and helplessly aroused.

"You are so sweaty, sweetheart: but you smell good..." Sally commented, inhaling deeply.

"You smell of a young, healthy female, ready to feel pain and pleasure..." Jake added, his breath warm on her skin.

"...Ready to live fully, pinned naked on her cross, facing her looming death!" Tom concluded, his voice filled with a morbid excitement.

"You know, some say that the most intense orgasms are those experienced in extreme situations. Your crucifixion might just prove that. Or maybe not," Sally's tone was almost academic, as if discussing an interesting case study, while her fingers probed deep into Michelle's twat.

"Imagine, your body writhing not just from pain but from pleasure too. The ultimate blend of ecstasy and agony." Jake mused, his fingers continuing their exploration.

Her breathing grew heavier, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. The situation, as horrifying as it was, awakened something primal within her indeed.

"We'll make sure to give the crowd a good show. Your beautiful body, stretched out, nailed, and displayed... it's going to be unforgettable." Tom's words were both a promise and a morbid prediction.

"Will it hurt... when you nail me?" Michelle's voice was small, the reality of her impending crucifixion seeping back into her consciousness.

"Oh, sweetheart, it will hurt like nothing you've ever felt before. But that's part of the beauty of it. Your pain will be so pure, so raw... it will be mesmerizing." Sally spoke with a strange reverence.

"And every time you squirm or cry out, it will just add to the spectacle. Your agony will be a work of art." Jake added, his tone one of twisted admiration.

As they continued to prepare her, Michelle's mind was a tumult of emotions. Fear, anticipation, arousal, and a deep, unshakable dread mingled together, creating an almost surreal experience.

"Remember, Michelle, this isn't just your execution. It's your final performance. Your pain, your pleasure, your body... they're all part of the show." Sally's words were meant to be comforting, but they only served to remind Michelle of the grim reality.

The executioners' touches grew bolder, more invasive, yet strangely tender. Michelle's body responded in kind, her arousal building amidst the fear and apprehension. It was a bizarre prelude to the ultimate finale - her crucifixion.

"You're going to be so beautiful up there, Michelle. Your body stretched out, your skin glistening with sweat and pain... It's going to be a sight to behold." Tom's words were almost poetic, his gaze lingering on her form.

"And don't forget about the audience. They'll be watching every twist of your body, every grimace of pain, every shudder of pleasure. You'll be the center of attention, the star of your own tragic show." Jake reminded her, his voice a mix of excitement and solemnity.

"Do... Do you like inflicting all this horror to sweet, innocent girls like me?" Michelle's voice trembled with a mix of fear and vulnerability, her eyes searching theirs for some semblance of mercy.

"You don't seem so innocent, honey, riding Sally's fingers with your spread cunt flaps like a slut," said Bob with a ribald comment. He didn't want to insult though, it was just a joke in good mood, trying to lighten the heavy air.

"Sure we'll like tormenting and killing you, honey. It's a part of our job, and we take pride in it. But we all really like it. A crucified girl is the most helpless person in the world: completely at the mercy of the audience and of the executioners... at our mercy, thus. And we like to exploit our position of power..." Sally spoke with a twisted sense of professionalism, her eyes glinting with a mixture of excitement and something darker.

"Yeah, to extract every ounce of pain and pleasure from your body..." Tom added, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, his hands moving with deliberate slowness over her trembling form.

"For you I'm not a person, just a body to torture and kill? A body to make it scream in agony, until I snuff it?" Michelle's question was filled with despair, her voice breaking with the strain of her impending doom.

"No, honey, it's not like that. We love you. Really, we do love you as a person. It's just... we love more destroying forever beautiful, lovely persons like you. That's why we will enjoy so much torturing and executing you." Jake's explanation was both disturbing and sincere, his gaze locking with hers, trying to convey the complexity of their roles.

"I don't understand..." Michelle's confusion was palpable, her body tensing under their hands, the conflict within her growing.

"See, my dear, it is rather simple: there's beauty in you, your body, your personality... but there's more beauty in crushing those same body and personality, under a lot of pain, and ministration, up to your total destruction: death. Do you get it now?" Sally's words were calm, almost soothing in their explanation, her fingers tracing patterns over Michelle's flushed skin.

"I'm not sure, I... I don't wanna be... crushed, or... destroyed, in body and soul. I don't wanna die. I would rather prefer to live..." Michelle's plea was heartfelt, her fear of death and pain evident, her body shivering with the intensity of her emotions.

"I know, dear, but you don't have a choice. You will suffer. And you will die. By our hands. And even if now you don't understand, well... usually a practical example is more useful to understanding than a theoretical explanation. You know what this means?" Sally's voice was gentle yet unyielding, his touch light but firm on her trembling body.

"That now you will crucify me?" Michelle's realization was dawning, her voice a whisper of resignation, her eyes filled with a haunting mix of fear and acceptance.

"Yes honey. It's time for you to start experiencing your execution. Your last experience in this world." Sally's confirmation was delivered with a finality that left no room for hope, her hands ceasing their movements, stepping back to view Michelle in her entirety.

"In other words: it's time for you to start dying." Jake's words resonated in Michelle's head, echoing the finality of her fate.

"Oh god, I'm so scared..."

"Relax, honey, try to be a big, brave girl," said Tom with a soothing voice, his hands gently cupping her face, trying to offer some semblance of comfort.

"I'm not brave, I'm terrified..." Michelle confessed, her eyes filling with tears, her body trembling uncontrollably.

"Being brave means going on even if scared. And you will go thru all this horror anyway, so, better be brave, sweetheart!" said Jake with a somewhat cruel smile, his words trying to instill a twisted form of courage in her.

"Let's get started, shall we? We don't want to keep your adoring fans waiting." Sally's voice was almost cheerful, despite the grim nature of the task ahead, her hands moving to gather the necessary tools for the crucifixion.

"Please... please... at least lemme cum before nailing me! Sally, please!" Michelle pleaded, her body still responding to their touches, a desperate need for some form of release evident in her voice.

 

[Zephirantes]

Hey, what a little horny minx we have here! Ready to cum and then be executed!" Bob joked, his tone a mix of amusement and awe at her resilience, his hands still playing with her hard nipples. The mood was strangely light, despite the grimness of the situation.

"No honey," Sally said with a sweet smile and in a cruel voice, "this is supposed to be the beginning of days of punishment and suffering for you. We don't want you to forget about that and start having too much fun, do we?" She took her hand away from Michelle's spread pussy lips, leaving her feeling both relieved and somehow more exposed.

"But don't worry. If you're good, perhaps we'll grant you your orgasm during your days of agony. Or perhaps not, ah ah!" Bob's words were a teasing promise, leaving Michelle uncertain of what pleasures or torments awaited her. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear and an inexplicable excitement.

"I... I really needed a good cum, before being tortured... and killed!"

"Trust me, your frustration now will... enhance your performance on the cross later." Sally's words were both comforting and ominous.

Michelle was gently helped on her feet, and walked towards the cross, each step feeling heavier than the last. Still unsteady on her feet, due to her excitation and frustrated orgasm.

"Look at you, my dear: you leak pussy juice!" Jake observed, his tone a mix of mockery and admiration.

"You masturbated me silly!" Michelle accused, indicating her plump and reddened vagina, as well her pointy nipples, though her tone was less of anger and more of amused reply.

"Yeah, and you enjoyed every second of it, sweetheart. Do you deny it?" Tom's voice was teasing, a knowing smile on his face.

"I'm a respectable, sweet and innocent girl, sexually ravaged by brutes like you!" said Michelle in a humorous tone, pulling up her nose in mock offense, probably for the first time since her fate of torment and death was announced to her. It was a small moment of defiance, a brief flicker of her spirit.

All the executioners laughed heartily, deep down pleased that their beautiful victim could even smile at her own misfortunes. At least for now, before she was nailed down and started screaming her utter agony.

"The crowd... they're all eager to watch me naked, suffer and die..." Michelle's voice trembled, her eyes scanning the gathered audience, their cheers and shouts filling the air.

"As we are, honey." Sally responded, her tone a mix of anticipation and something akin to respect.

"All my friends are here... oh god, what an humiliation! And my family... they might be here too!" Michelle's voice cracked, the reality of her public demise hitting her.

"Do you hear them shouting? They cheer you!" observed Jake, to encourage her naked executee.

"You go, naked girl!"
"Attagirl!"
"Ready to suffer, Michelle?"
"Naked as you are, your tits will bounce at your every struggle on the cross!"
"Show us your pussy!"
"I'll masturbate to you snuffin' it!"
"Die for us slut!"
"You'll be even prettier stretched on the cross!"
"We wanna see your pain!"
"Nail her, nail her body down!"

The crowd's enthusiasm was palpable, a strange mix of horror and adulation.

"Do you like your cross, oh my dear Michelle?" Tom asked with mock formality, gesturing towards the wooden structure.

"It's... short. The cross I mean. I thought it would be higher than this." Michelle noted, her eyes tracing the contours of the wood.

"Yeah, when raised, your nailed feet will be just 3 inches above the ground. It's better like that though: 3 inches are enough to deny you any support and slowly kill you anyway, and that way we could... stimulate your body more easily. Otherwise, we would have needed a ladder..." Sally explained, her voice matter-of-fact.

"Too complicated, right?" Michelle asked, trying to maintain a semblance of humor in her voice.

"Yes, exactly. Now please lay down on the cross, honey. So we may start... fixing you to it. Forever." Tom's voice was gentle, almost coaxing.

"Or, at least, for the rest of your life. Until you snuff on it, that is. Then your pretty corpse will be removed. This is a good cross, ready to host many other pretty girls like you, even after you're gone," added Sally matter-of-factly.

Michelle remained silent at these remarks, nodding slightly in understanding.

She lay down on the cross, her back against the rough wood. The coolness of the cross against her bare skin sent shivers down her spine. The executioners moved with practiced efficiency, positioning Michelle against the wooden structure. Her arms were stretched out, the wood rough against her soft skin. Her heart pounded, a mix of dread and resignation coursing through her veins.

"This is it then... the beginning of the end. Of my end," Michelle whispered to herself, her eyes closing momentarily as she braced for the pain to come.

"More like the end of the beginning, sweetheart. Your journey's just starting."

 

[Zephirantes]

"What a pretty damsel in distress we have here, and all naked, no less!" Bob remarked, his tone a mix of mock sympathy and genuine admiration as he observed Michelle laid out on the cross, her body a canvas of vulnerability and fear.

Tom and Jake began positioning her hands. "Now, darling, this is going to hurt, but try to stay still. It'll be over before you know it." Tom's voice was surprisingly gentle, his hands steady as he prepared her for the nailing.

"Right or left, first?" The meaning of this ominous request was evident to everyone there.

"Right. With my right wrist forever attached to the wood I... I might accept that I've crossed a point of no return. And perhaps I might calm down... I guess..." replied Michelle, swallowing empty.

"Right is your dominant hand, honey?" inquired Tom.

"Yeah. Losing it, it's gonna be like, crossing my 'event horizon'. At least I hope so..."

"Yeah, your 'event horizon' dear!" said Bob in a slightly mocking tone.

"Think how admired you'll be, everybody will love you once nailed and writhing on the wood!" Sally's voice was almost kind as she held her right arm.

"Try to scream beautifully for us, okay?" Jake suggested with a morbid sense of humor as he positioned the nail at her wrist. He aligned it with precision against Michelle's right wrist.

His words were meant to be light, but the gravity of the moment hung heavy in the air.

She watched with horror as Tom and Jake took some time to position her left wrist just where they wanted it. Bob held the hammer and a slim, sharp spike. He took some time to carefully line up the spike in just the right place on her wrist, holding it at just the right angle. Then he raised the hammer.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god..." Michelle murmured, her eyes wide with fear, her body tensing in anticipation of the pain, and hyperventilating.

"Sweetie, I know you're no virgin: I checked that when I fingered your slutty pussy. But just... imagine that being penetrated by nails, to be forever united with the wood, is like, you know, popping your 'execution cherry'. Once popped, You'll become a real, big and brave executed woman, ready to suffer and struggle and die. This idea might... help you." Sally's words were twisted yet intended to offer a bizarre form of comfort, a strange encouragement for Michelle in her final moments before losing forever control on her hands and arms.

"I'm not sure it helps me, but... okay... just pop my execution cherry then! Make me an executed woman. Execute me!" Michelle shouted with a mix of terror and determination, trying to find some strength in Sally's dark analogy.

Bob laughed with gusto at this outburst of ribald defiance. "You’re a feisty one," he said with a laugh, and let his heavy hammer hit the nail pointing at her right wrist. The hammer came down with a powerful “BAM!” on the spike, driving the point clean through her slim wrist and into the wood of the crossbar. And so the execution of Michelle started, amidst a cheerful and festive atmosphere, everyone in good mood at the prospect to see her suffering and death.

 

[Zephirantes]

Thank you @tygavin, as I said a like from you means a lot.

Now, the story might well end here, with the suspense broken by the protagonist's screams as she gets nailed.
But I have crafted other chapters in fact.

Does someone want to read them?
For some reason this story didn't get much interest with respect to others of mine (which, in my opinion, are worse: but that's just my opinion).
Perhaps the title was wrong? Or something else?
Every criticism is welcome.

 

[Lovessex247]

Thank you @tygavin, as I said a like from you means a lot.

Now, the story might well end here, with the suspense broken by the protagonist's screams as she gets nailed.
But I have crafted other chapters in fact.

Does someone want to read them?
For some reason this story didn't get much interest with respect to others of mine (which, in my opinion, are worse: but that's just my opinion).
Perhaps the title was wrong? Or something else?
Every criticism is welcome.

I say complete it. It would be fun to see it develop. I haven’t gotten much reaction on mine and I know why.

 

[Zephirantes]

I say complete it. It would be fun to see it develop. I haven’t gotten much reaction on mine and I know why.

May I ask why?

I'm just curious. Perhaps the xmas period?
Actually I have more free time precisely in the xmas period, so I can do more stories now then at other times...

 

[Lovessex247]

May I ask why?

I'm just curious. Perhaps the xmas period?
Actually I have more free time precisely in the xmas period, so I can do more stories now then at other times...

I don’t know, honestly. I find it fun to read the story after the crucifixion has happened. Just see the direction of the person‘s mind who’s writing it. Whether they continue to torture the crucified woman or they just let her suffer and die. It’s a fun way to see inside of someone’s mind of how they see the story developing.

 

[KingofLiquidSwordz]

"What a pretty damsel in distress we have here, and all naked, no less!" Bob remarked, his tone a mix of mock sympathy and genuine admiration as he observed Michelle laid out on the cross, her body a canvas of vulnerability and fear.

Tom and Jake began positioning her hands. "Now, darling, this is going to hurt, but try to stay still. It'll be over before you know it." Tom's voice was surprisingly gentle, his hands steady as he prepared her for the nailing.

"Right or left, first?" The meaning of this ominous request was evident to everyone there.

"Right. With my right wrist forever attached to the wood I... I might accept that I've crossed a point of no return. And perhaps I might calm down... I guess..." replied Michelle, swallowing empty.

"Right is your dominant hand, honey?" inquired Tom.

"Yeah. Losing it, it's gonna be like, crossing my 'event horizon'. At least I hope so..."

"Yeah, your 'event horizon' dear!" said Bob in a slightly mocking tone.

"Think how admired you'll be, everybody will love you once nailed and writhing on the wood!" Sally's voice was almost kind as she held her right arm.

"Try to scream beautifully for us, okay?" Jake suggested with a morbid sense of humor as he positioned the nail at her wrist. He aligned it with precision against Michelle's right wrist.

His words were meant to be light, but the gravity of the moment hung heavy in the air.

She watched with horror as Tom and Jake took some time to position her left wrist just where they wanted it. Bob held the hammer and a slim, sharp spike. He took some time to carefully line up the spike in just the right place on her wrist, holding it at just the right angle. Then he raised the hammer.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god..." Michelle murmured, her eyes wide with fear, her body tensing in anticipation of the pain, and hyperventilating.

"Sweetie, I know you're no virgin: I checked that when I fingered your slutty pussy. But just... imagine that being penetrated by nails, to be forever united with the wood, is like, you know, popping your 'execution cherry'. Once popped, You'll become a real, big and brave executed woman, ready to suffer and struggle and die. This idea might... help you." Sally's words were twisted yet intended to offer a bizarre form of comfort, a strange encouragement for Michelle in her final moments before losing forever control on her hands and arms.

"I'm not sure it helps me, but... okay... just pop my execution cherry then! Make me an executed woman. Execute me!" Michelle shouted with a mix of terror and determination, trying to find some strength in Sally's dark analogy.

Bob laughed with gusto at this outburst of ribald defiance. "You’re a feisty one," he said with a laugh, and let his heavy hammer hit the nail pointing at her right wrist. The hammer came down with a powerful “BAM!” on the spike, driving the point clean through her slim wrist and into the wood of the crossbar. And so the execution of Michelle started, amidst a cheerful and festive atmosphere, everyone in good mood at the prospect to see her suffering and death.

I’ve been absolutely loving all of your recent stories you’ve been posting! I love how much sympathy there is for the ones being crucified. All your executioners tend to be as supportive and comforting as they can, while still maintaining a brutal sadism and hunger for suffering behind their kind words. It’s such a sexy contrast! And the emphasis on the pleasure the victim feels on the cross, how it mixes and fluxes with the agony and torture, it’s all so very emotional while still being so fundamentally carnal. Reading your stories is such a rush

 

[Zephirantes]

I’ve been absolutely loving all of your recent stories you’ve been posting! I love how much sympathy there is for the ones being crucified. All your executioners tend to be as supportive and comforting as they can, while still maintaining a brutal sadism and hunger for suffering behind their kind words. It’s such a sexy contrast! And the emphasis on the pleasure the victim feels on the cross, how it mixes and fluxes with the agony and torture, it’s all so very emotional while still being so fundamentally carnal. Reading your stories is such a rush

Thank you for you kind words.
I find this contrast extremely thrilling.

A problem of mine is that my stories tend to be too long, I think.
I wonder if breaking 'em into shorter chapter and using more dialogues might improve their "readability"...

 

[thehangingtree]

Thank you for you kind words.
I find this contrast extremely thrilling.

A problem of mine is that my stories tend to be too long, I think.
I wonder if breaking 'em into shorter chapter and using more dialogues might improve their "readability"...

Tree's opinion is most of your posts are of good length. Dialogue never hurts if done well. Keep writing!

 

[michiSlave]

Aaah you can't let us hang here!
It's an very exciting and arousing read, I love it! Please continue!
I feel so close to Michelle, and not just because our names are so similar ....

 

[Zephirantes]

As the first nail pierced her wrist, Michelle let out a scream that echoed around the gathering crowd. The pain was intense, almost unbearable. Yet, through the haze of pain, she felt a strange sense of detachment, her mind recoiling from the reality of what was happening to her.

"No no no please no no more no more!!!" Michelle’s voice was filled with raw panic and desperation.

With all her strength, she tried to wrench her arms free. The nailed one remained firmly in place, but she moved enough to mess up the proper alignment of the nail aimed at her left wrist.

"Stop please stop enough enough I don't wanna die please please save me!!!" she pleaded, her voice breaking.

"Damn! I hate when they do this!" Bob exclaimed in frustration, his face showing a mix of annoyance and concern.

"So much for all that bubbling 'bout the 'event horizon' or 'popping her execution cherry'..." Jake remarked, a hint of mockery in his tone.

"Don't mock her: she may have lost it now, but she's doing a very difficult thing, for our enjoyment mainly. You've no right to make light of her like this," Sally chastised Tom, her voice stern.

"You're right. For what is worth, I apologize Michelle, sorry, I was being a... rude executioner. Exactly what I don't wanna be. That said... what do we do with you now?" Jake's apology was genuine, though it did little to ease the tension.

"We can continue nailing her down, or..." Tom trailed off, unsure of how to proceed.

"Well, we are killing her, so we cannot say that's over-reacting by her part, just... what do we do now?" Sally pondered aloud, her professional demeanor wavering in the face of Michelle's agony.

In a moment of unexpected hesitation, the executioners paused, their faces showing a mix of confusion and conflict. The crowd, sensing the sudden shift, grew quieter, their cheers and jeers fading into a hushed murmur.

"I cannot do this to a girl screaming like her! I'm no monster!" said Bob, putting down the hammer, his face a mask of conflicted emotions.

Michelle continued her pleas, her voice raw and desperate. "Please, don't do this... I want to live... I'm scared, so scared..."

Sally, usually the most composed, looked at her fellow executioners, her eyes searching for an answer they didn't have.

"Well, it's not that we need her consent or permission to crucify her. Her death warrant requires that she is to be put down or... well, actually, high on her cross..." Bob reasoned, trying to make sense of the situation.

"But still... how can we do this to her as she screams and wiggle like a puppet gone mad like that?" Tom questioned, his tone reflecting his inner turmoil.

"I know: It just isn't enjoyable anymore if they react like this." Sally added, her voice low.

"We have a situation here, guys and gals," Bob acknowledged, looking at each of them in turn.

"Let's talk to her. Maybe we can convince her to... well, to give us her okay to go on nailing her..." Jake suggested, though he sounded unsure of himself.

"Or, at least, acquiescing to it..." Sally added, stepping closer to Michelle, her expression softening as she prepared to speak to the terrified girl.

"Michelle, listen to me," Sally began, her voice calm and steady, trying to penetrate the haze of fear and panic that surrounded the terrified girl. "You are going to be crucified. That's a fact. But how you face it, that's still up to you, darling."

"I don't want that, I don't want that!" Michelle cried, her voice laced with despair.

"Honey, Bob used a very slim nail. It's very resistant, in stainless steel, but it is very slim. Sure it must hurt, but..." Sally tried to provide some solace, however small.

"...but not so much, Michelle. You're shocked, I understand that: you see your right wrist pinned to the cross, you cannot move your right hand and arm freely as before, but still... it's not the pain that upsets you." Tom interjected, his tone a mix of understanding and practicality.

"Yeah, you're reacting to this feeling of helplessness. Don't you?" Bob added, looking into Michelle's eyes, trying to gauge her response.

"Yeah... maybe..." Michelle's voice was a whisper, a concession to their reasoning amidst her turmoil.

"It is so. We said that, yes, the crucifixion is a long and painful death. But not one of acute pain, like, something that drives you instantly crazy..." Sally continued, her voice soft. "At least not with such slim nails."

"It is more of a strong, relentless ache, that slowly ebbs your life away..." Jake added, his tone matter-of-fact.

Michelle's eyes, wild with terror, focused on Sally. "But I don't want to die! Not like this!" she sobbed, her body still quivering from the nail through her wrist.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. But think, what should we do with you now? Leaving you here with your wrist affixed to the crossbeam?" Sally coaxed, trying to instill a sense of reality in the doomed girl.

"You could just start by removing the fucking nail for instance!!!" Michelle's suggestion was desperate, clutching at straws for any semblance of escape.

"Yeah, honey, but think about it: you reacted like that with a nail penetrating your wrist in a smooth, single hit of the hammer. Bob's good at that. Imagine how much it must hurt to use our pincers to remove it from you..." Tom explained, his tone gentle yet unyielding.

"It would be hell: much worse than being nailed!" Sally added, reinforcing the grim reality of the situation.

"And by the way, those pincers were supposed to be used to torture your nipples and pus..." Bob began, before Tom gave him a nudge with his elbow, signaling him to silence.

"And think of all those good folks that came here just for you. To see your suffering and demise. Do you wanna let 'em down?" Jake chimed in, trying to appeal to a sense of duty, however twisted it might be.

"And we'll be here with you, every step of the way," Tom added, his hand resting reassuringly on her sweaty shoulder, offering a semblance of support in her final moments.

"As Sally said, we love you. Even if we have to do this to you. So, please, let us do our work..." Sally's words were a paradoxical mix of affection and grim finality, as she prepared Michelle for the inevitable continuation of her execution.

 

[Blue]

Thank you @tygavin, as I said a like from you means a lot.

Now, the story might well end here, with the suspense broken by the protagonist's screams as she gets nailed.
But I have crafted other chapters in fact.

Does someone want to read them?
For some reason this story didn't get much interest with respect to others of mine (which, in my opinion, are worse: but that's just my opinion).
Perhaps the title was wrong? Or something else?
Every criticism is welcome.

I think this is your best piece! I love the @DjEtla influence of matter-of-fact dialogue between the condemned and executioners, but in your own style. I hope you continue!

 

[LukeBlanc]

An emotional roller coaster really pulling us in every direction, from deep drama to erotism and even to comedy for the last part. I am curious to see where this goes.

 

[KingofLiquidSwordz]

Thank you for you kind words.
I find this contrast extremely thrilling.

A problem of mine is that my stories tend to be too long, I think.
I wonder if breaking 'em into shorter chapter and using more dialogues might improve their "readability"...

I think they’re all perfectly readable! The pacing you write with lets us sit in the emotions of your characters but also doesn’t stall progress of the action. There’s always progression. And to me they all read like you have an end point to the story in mind (death has a way of bringing things to and end ) so the story doesn’t meander or tread the same ground. It’s all escalation and forward progression to an eruption of a climax, then that wonderful lingering bitter sweetness of the crucified being sent off to oblivion, in her final breaths of defiant pleasure through her torture, and the execution team simply getting prepped for the next one

 

[Zephirantes]

I think this is your best piece! I love the @DjEtla influence of matter-of-fact dialogue between the condemned and executioners, but in your own style. I hope you continue!

Nice you spotted: I think I nearly ripped off a couple of dialogues from him.
I love @DjEtla's quiet and tuned-down stories, I find them very elegant, particularly his very sober and polite dialogues.
I confess I started these stories with his stories in mind.

I tried to maintain that same politeness in a slightly more brutal and explicit scenario.

I fancy thinking that the reader, at the end, might just say "oh, what a bunch of decent people we have here."

 

[Zephirantes]

"You really wanna remain like this? Naked, and with your wrist nailed to a piece of wood?" Sally asked, her tone a mixture of concern and practicality, looking at Michelle's trembling form.

"You did it!" Michelle exclaimed, her voice laced with accusation and despair, her eyes darting between the executioners.

"Yeah, but still, it's you that have to live with it..." Tom replied, his expression one of sympathy mixed with resignation, acknowledging the gravity of their actions.

"Or die..." chuckled Bob, receiving disapproving glances from his fellow executioners. His attempt at humor fell flat, creating a tense atmosphere.

"By the way, it's not that you can go free. You are sentenced to be executed by the cross, so, in any case, tomorrow we will bring you again here and continue our work." Jake added, his voice carrying the weight of inevitability, emphasizing the futility of Michelle's resistance.

"What if I go mad and scream like crazy again?" Michelle's question was filled with a mix of fear and defiance, her eyes searching for any sliver of hope in their expressions.

"You'll continue living, yes, but with a steel nail affixing you to the crossbeam, and each day of your remaining life we will bring you here in front of all these good townspeople to convince you to be crucified for good without too much fuss." Sally explained, her tone patient yet firm, outlining the grim reality of Michelle's situation.

"Really, it's much worse than being crucified NOW!" Bob interjected, trying to instill a sense of urgency in her, his voice echoing a harsh truth.

"I... I don't know... I've to think about it..." Michelle's voice trailed off, her mind clearly wrestling with the horrific options laid before her, her body shivering in the cold air.

"Guys, we have to find someone to speak some sense into her. Like her parents, siblings, or friends..." Sally suggested, running out of options, her gaze scanning the crowd for a familiar face.

"She said they're here, right? Let's summon her father..." Jake proposed, the idea seeming like the last resort in convincing Michelle to accept her fate.

The executioners quickly scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face that might belong to Michelle's family. Their eyes settled on an older man with a long, white beard who stood a few steps away from the crowd, his face a mask of anguish and despair.

"Sir, are you Michelle's father?" Sally called out, her voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd.

The man nodded, his eyes filled with determination as he approached the cross where his daughter lay, her body exposed and vulnerable and naked.

"Dad..." Michelle whispered, her voice breaking as she saw him, a mix of relief and dread washing over her face.

"So you're Michelle's father?" Sally asked the man who had just approached, her voice steady despite the unusual circumstances.

"I'm not, actually. I'm Stephen Dakota, Michelle's stepfather. I raised her as mine, however. Nice to meet you." The man, Stephen, extended a hand in greeting, his demeanor surprisingly calm given the situation.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Dakota. You know, we're just trying to execute your step-daughter..." Sally responded, accepting his handshake while pointing out the obvious with a hint of gallows humor.

"Yeah, but I saw she rebelled against it. She can be so stubborn at times. Completely insensible to others' necessities. In your case, of doing your job and torture and killing her! Can you believe it?" Stephen's tone was casual, almost as if discussing a minor inconvenience rather than his stepdaughter's execution.

"Yeah, we got... acquainted with her, Sir. Please, try to convince Michelle that she cannot remain like this and allow us to proceed with her execution without further ado." Tom interjected, hoping that Stephen could persuade Michelle to comply.

"Yes, I'll do what I can, I'll speak to her... but mind you, this girl seldom listens to my advice!" Stephen remarked, his voice tinged with a mixture of exasperation and fondness.

"Let's hope she'll make an exception to this rule now!" Jake chimed in, optimistic despite the grimness of their task.

"Michelle, dear, what the fuck are you doing? Can't you just let yourself be executed like a good girl?" Stephen's voice was choked with emotion, his hands reaching out to her. "You see all these people? They have work to do. On you!"

"They're going to crucify me, Dad. I'm so scared..." Michelle sobbed, her fear and despair evident in her eyes.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. But you must be brave. And besides, I'm the one who reported you for that parking violation..." Stephen confessed, his tone oddly matter-of-fact.

"Daddy! You did that?" Michelle gasped, disbelief coloring her tone.

"You know how stern they are here 'bout that: they even signal where not to park with a red cross on the asphalt... exactly because if you park there, you get the cross literally!" Stephen explained, his reasoning bizarre yet earnest.

"Dad, you basically sent me to my death here!" Michelle exclaimed, her voice rising in a mix of anger and fear.

"Yeah, I thought that you needed a lesson, darling, you never do what I tell you!" Stephen retorted, his tone firm.

"But that's not a mild punishment, it's the cross! Look, I'm already half-nailed to it!" Michelle gestured to her nailed wrist, her eyes pleading for understanding.

"I know, but I just thought that, as I failed to make you respect rules, perhaps a couple of days on the cross might do the work!" Stephen reasoned, his logic twisted yet sincere.

"Daddy, after those two days I'll be dead!" Michelle cried out, the horror of her situation crashing down on her.

"Yeah, I see that, alas, but still: you'll have learned your lesson, at least. Not that you'll make much of it, as you'll be a corpse, but still, you'll die a respectful citizen at least!" Stephen's words were oddly comforting, in a morbid sort of way.

"Dad, I don't know if I can do it..." Michelle whispered, her voice barely audible.

"You can, and you must. We all have to face our end one day. Yours is just... more public than most. Your privates, in fact, are very public now!" Stephen pointed out, his voice laced with a hint of humor.

"Dad! Don't watch me there!" Michelle exclaimed, embarrassed and distraught.

"Dear, everybody can see you very well there! But see, this isn't a day of fun for you! This is..."

"Yeah, yeah, Sally here told me: the beginning of days of punishment and suffering." Michelle cut him off, her voice resigned.

"Precisely. So, honey, pull yourself together a little and let your pretty body be hurt and killed as required." Stephen urged her, his tone encouraging yet firm.

The executioners watched this funny family scene develop, their expressions a mix of sympathy and professionalism, as they hoped to continue their grim task of, in fact, hurting and killing the pretty Michelle.

"Well... maybe if I had that cum, it would be easier for me to go on with my nailing..." Michelle murmured, her voice a blend of desperation and dark humor, seeking some form of solace in the face of her impending doom.

"Michelle! Aren't you ashamed to talk about orgasms in front of your father?" Sally exclaimed, her eyebrows raised in shock, surprised by Michelle's bold statement.

"Step-father!" Mr. Dakota corrected quickly, emphasizing the distinction, as if it made the conversation any less awkward.

"Well, this changes everythin'!" Bob joked, breaking the tension with his offbeat humor, a slight grin on his face.

"Anyway, sorry daddy! I was just... I mean, this whole situation is bringing the worst out of me!" Michelle apologized, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and stress, her eyes darting between the executioners and her stepfather.

"I understand sweetheart. But the problem here is that you behave like you have a say in all this, and these executioners let you do it out of their kindness!" Stephen, her stepfather, spoke with a tone of understanding yet parental firmness, trying to bring some sense into the chaotic situation.

"We are too kind, always said it!" Bob quipped, acknowledging their leniency in the face of Michelle's reactions, a smirk playing on his lips.

"But, in fact, you don't have a say. You heard Judge Bramford: you have to be mounted on that cross, naked for all to see, with nails thru your limbs, and you'll die there. So dear, please stop making this... scene, and just let yourself be crucified as you deserve it." Stephen’s words were blunt, leaving no room for negotiation, his voice laced with a sternness that brooked no argument.

"And you have no right to pretend to be masturbated to orgasm by these gentlemen and..." facing Sally, "...lady. They are your executioners, they have to torture you! Yes, I've heard that they are so kind that they often makes their slutty executees come as they suffer, but they are under no obligation to do that to you. Do you understand it, dear?"

"Yeah... okay..." Michelle's response was subdued, her defiance seeming to crumble under the weight of her stepfather's words.

"Good. You have always pretended Michelle, pretend to receive special treatment. You do what you want, without facing the consequences. Well, you pretended you could park your car in front of the Church of Our Lady of the Holy Cross, and look what that brought to you: you'll die on the cross! It's gonna be a harsh but well-deserved lesson, my dear!" Stephen’s logic was harsh, his tone reflecting his belief in the severity of her punishment.

"Please pardon her, Mr. Dakota, she is just so upset for her first nail, that she doesn't behave anymore!" Sally interjected, trying to smooth over the situation, her eyes meeting Stephen’s with a plea for understanding.

"Yeah, quite typical of Michelle. Anyway, you all seem a team of very good professional executioners to me, I'm sure she is in good hands regarding her crucifixion and torturing!" Stephen complimented the executioners, his tone oddly appreciative of their gruesome expertise, a strange pride in his voice.

"Rest assured, sir. We're the best!" Tom replied with a hint of pride, confident in their abilities, a firm nod accompanying his statement.

"Just, don't go too easy on her, otherwise, you see, she will make scenes like this again."

"You think so, Mr. Dakota?"

"She might seem frail and sweet and naïve and innocent to you, but believe me, I'm her step-father, and I know her well: she can handle a lot." Stephen advised, his voice carrying an undercurrent of strictness, reflecting his years of experience with Michelle.

The executioners nodded in agreement, taking Stephen’s words into consideration. They prepared themselves to resume their task, their expressions a blend of professionalism and a newfound resolve, as they faced the challenge of completing Michelle's crucifixion. Their faces set in determination, they approached the cross once more, ready to carry out the grim duty they had been assigned.

 

[Zephirantes]

"Seems daddy is your biggest... accuser, isn't he, Michelle?" Sally observed, her voice tinged with irony as she watched Michelle's stepfather, Stephen, standing nearby.

"Yeah, he is convinced I'm a bad girl! His greatest educational failure." Michelle managed a weak smile, her attempt at humor belying the pain she was in.

"Look, Michelle: to me, you're just a perfectly fine, sweet girl, in a very, very difficult predicament..." Jake said, his tone soft, trying to offer some comfort amidst the surreal situation.

"Thank you, I... I guess..." Michelle whispered, her voice hoarse from pain and emotion.

"So just know that whatever we'll do to you, whatever we might say to you to spice up the things a bit, we have but the greatest respect for you, and the difficult task you have in front of you, suffering and dying so publicly, on the cross."

"I would gladly prefer to avoid both!"

"I know, gal. But you and your pretty bod must undergo all that. It's gonna be difficult, so take proud in that, okay?" Sally's words were sincere, her expression gentle as she looked at Michelle. "I want you to always know that, okay, girl?"

"O... Okay. Thanks." Michelle nodded, a glimmer of appreciation in her eyes despite her harrowing circumstances.

"Very well. Now, Michelle, we would fancy to continue. Just try to stay calm this time, okay?" Sally said, her voice soft but firm, as she approached Michelle with the hammer and another nail.

"Remember: it's gonna be painful, but you can take it."

"Your dad said you can handle a lot!" Bob interjected, a mix of encouragement and jest in his tone.

"You can take it: what's really upset you wasn't the pain, but the idea to be pinned like that," Tom suggested.

"Yeah, feeling oneself being pinned and, well, locked into position for the rest of one's own life... surely is a very big thing. A permanent thing. That's a lot to think 'bout," said Sally, soothingly and smiling to the sentenced girl.

"It's just a mind thing, okay? Clear your mind, and accept this second nail into you..." Jake advised, trying to prepare her for the next step.

"Yeah, you've already got one shiny accessory. Let's balance it out, shall we?" Bob quipped, trying to lighten the mood with his humor, though it did little to comfort Michelle.

Tom held Michelle's other wrist in place, his expression sympathetic yet resolute. "We need to do this, Michelle. The sooner we finish, the sooner you can... well, start adapting. To your new situation..."

"And start dying!" said Michelle, exasperated, shaking her pretty tits.

Michelle looked at her stepfather, seeking any sign of compassion. She found it, but mixed with amusement, and a certain dose of paternal reprimand.

"Sweetheart... it's the law, you know. And you did park in front of that church..." Stephen's voice trailed off, a hint of regret in his tone. "...so now I think you just have to deal with this situation the best you can. And yes, the situation requires you to go thru terrible torments and then die."

"Come on, Michelle, be brave. You're doing this for the public good. Think of all the parking violators you'll deter!" Bob joked, trying to find some humor in the grim situation.

"Will they? I dunno, Michelle will be so beautiful hanging naked from her cross, writhing in agony, that someone may fancy joinin' her!" added Sally, winking at Michelle.

"Uh, you think so?" replied Michelle with doe eyes.

"Sure honey. Nothing beats a beauty like your suffering and she endures her execution by crucifixion! Stay sure of that!" said Sally, reassuringly. "So let us proceed now, okay? You'll be so attractive when we will done with you body..."

As Bob positioned the nail against her left wrist, Michelle closed her eyes, bracing herself for the pain.

"When we get you all nailed you’re gonna do great,” said Bob with good cheer. He continued with a calm tone of explanation. "But we need to get the spikes placed just right for the effects we want, it's no easy task for us either!" he said patiently. “Be a good girl. Stay as steady as you can and we’ll do this right. When we’re done then I promise you can wiggle and squirm and struggle all you want."

"Remember? With both your wrists nailed, your arms perpetually stretched, we will bust your 'execution cherry' for real!"

"Just do it... get it over with... and pop my exec cherry!" she muttered trying to regain some courage, her body tensing in anticipation.

Sally put her hand on her pussy, to maintain skin contact as the second nail transfixed her body. She didn't masturbate her, just laid her hand there, to let her victim feel connected by her most intimate part to all of this that's happing to and around her.

Sally noticed Michelle's vagina was hot and wet.

With a swift motion, Bob brought down the hammer, and the spike pierced through Michelle's flesh, pinning also her left wrist to the wood. Michelle's didn't scream this time, but utter agony was clearly visible on her pretty young face.

"Guys, I think we're making history here. The most cheerful crucifixion ever!" Sally remarked, her voice tinged with irony as she stepped back to admire their handiwork.

The crowd, which had been watching in a mix of horror and fascination, began to murmur among themselves. "She's nailed now, no turning back!" someone shouted from the crowd, their voice a mix of excitement and awe.

With her hands nailed, they moved to her feet. The process was agonizing, and Michelle felt tears streaming down her cheeks, mixing with the sweat that coated her excited naked body.

“That’s a good girl,” said Tom, who had been holding her arm as he relaxed his grip. “You’re doing great,” he said, trying to keep a soothing tone of voice.

"Almost done, sweetheart. Just a little more pain, and then you'll be the star of the show." Sally's voice was a strange comfort amidst the pain, her words trying to offer a semblance of encouragement as she prepared to drive the nails through Michelle's feet.

“You’re very brave. Now we’ll do the feet too. Hold still for me now – be a good girl. We want to do this right. We want to do a good job for you."

As the final nail pierced both her feet, fixing her to the cross completely, Michelle's world became a blur of agony and humiliation. The pain was great, her mind struggling to comprehend the reality of her crucifixion. Each hammer strike was a jolt of excruciating pain that radiated through her entire body.

"There, there, now you're officially part of the cross. Congratulations!" Bob said, his tone a bizarre mix of congratulation and sympathy.

“You’re one with the instrument that will actually execute you! That’s the magic of the crucifixion!” told her Bob, with sincere admiration both for her and his own work.

Once nailed to the cross, Michelle felt a wave of panic. "I can't move... I'm really going to die here... all naked, and in agony..." Her voice was a whisper, a realization of her fate washing over her. The crowd's cheers and jeers seemed distant, as if coming from another world.

"You're doing great, Michelle. Just let go and embrace it. This is your moment." Tom's voice was soothing, trying to offer some comfort in her first moments completely pinned and helpless.

"Look at the crowd, they love you. You're a star, Michelle." Sally's words were meant to be reassuring, to give her something to focus on besides the pain.

Michelle's eyes scanned the crowd, seeing faces both familiar and unknown, all watching her with a mixture of horror and fascination. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly helpless, her body displayed for all to see, her agony a spectacle.

No drops of blood seeped out by the spikes: her execution team had been careful to miss veins and arteries, and the spikes were slim and accurately sanitized: nobody wants her to die by infection. The slim spikes still gave her significant pain, but it was subsiding: it was bad but just about manageable.

What was even stranger for Michelle was the feeling of not being able to move her arms or legs. It felt weird and scary, more than anything else. And it was a very odd feeling for her to be laying on the ground with so many people gathered around looking down at her. Her step-daddy too. She tried hard not to cry, breathing in big gulps of air that made her slim, bare chest rise and fall dramatically.

As the cross was raised, and Michelle with it, she felt a new wave of pain and terror. The world tilted, and she was left hanging, her weight pulling on the nails, sending fresh waves of agony through her body. The crowd's cheers grew louder, a cacophony of excitement and morbid curiosity.

"Remember, Michelle, you're part of something bigger now. Your suffering, your death, it's all a performance. Give them a show they'll never forget." Sally's words floated to her, a reminder of her role in this macabre spectacle.

"Besides, now we popped your execution cherry for real: you're officially executed, you're formally and legally a dead girl now," said Sally with a grin on her face, as proof of a job well done.

"I know I'll die here, but... I confess I feel quite alive now!"

"Yeah, but for the laws you're just a dead corpse now," Jake remarked, matter-of-factly.

"You just have to wait for your cute bod to conform to your legal definition and, well, die for real, honey," the female executioner said. "In the meantime, as you suffer for hours and days, take pride in being so sexy, all naked and struggling on your cross!"

"I don't feel sexy at all, I'm just in pain and scared for what awaits me, my death!" replies Michelle with tears in her eyes.

"Don't you feel sexy? Darling, look around: everyone is looking at you as if they want to fuck you. You are the object of desire of every man here, and every girl too!" retorted Sally, with out most sincerity. "I bet there isn't a girl here who isn't fantasizing about taking your place on the cross and getting crucified."

"They are free to ask! I would switch places at once!" said Michelle with a pained chuckle.

"Oh, they won't. I won't mislead you: you're in for a terrible agony before you eventually snuffs it. But that doesn't stop any of them from admiring you and imagining themselves in your place, naked, exposed and observed in every detail..."

"If they knew how humiliating it is ... my private parts exposed to everyone's gaze ..."

"And to their hands, my dear: nailed as you are, soon spectators will gather around you and touch you all...in all the parts you can imagine! And you won't be able to do anything to stop it," said Sally with a smile, that turned a bit cruel as she added: "and we executioners would then subject you to treatment.... well, very intense, so to speak, just in those parts..."

"There, what I just said? It’s gonna be even more humiliating!" said the victim, exasperated.

"Yes, it will be humiliating. Very. But humiliation is part of your sentence, so you have to get used to it. And then..."

"And then what?"

"And then, well, I kind of suspect that a girl as beautiful and vibrant as you, all naked, nailed down, exposed, and with the prospect of dying soon, well... my guess is you'll be able to get over it, and even get excited about your own humiliation!" said Sally as she was stating a very important truth.

"Ugh! That just doesn't seem right!"

"Well, think about it instead: some exciting thought, induced by your situation, can distract your pretty little head from the agony and looming thought of death. Think about it, as you hang there."

Michelle's breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle against the pain that wracked her body. She closed her eyes, trying to find some inner peace amidst the chaos, her mind grappling with the reality of her situation.

The sun beat down on her, the heat intensifying her discomfort. The crowd continued to cheer, their faces a sea of both anonymous onlookers and well-known ones, all captivated by her shameful nakedness and suffering.

As Michelle hung there, nailed and helpless, her entire family approached the cross. Her mom, Jenna, along with her half-sisters Anne and Kate, and her half-brother Mark, formed a small cluster around her. Their faces were a mix of fascination, pride, and a peculiar cheerfulness that seemed out of place in the grim setting.

"Oh, Michelle, you look so beautiful up there, all stretched and bare," Jenna exclaimed, her eyes scanning Michelle's form with a mix of maternal pride and odd admiration.

"Mom, how can you say that? I'm... I'm being executed," Michelle responded, her voice a mixture of pain and bewilderment, struggling to make sense of her mother's words.

"But darling, you've never looked more gorgeous. The way the sunlight hits your skin... you're like a martyr in an old painting," Anne added, her voice tinged with a hint of envy.

"Anne, don't. This isn't something to be envious of," Michelle replied, pain evident in her voice.

"Actually, I've always had fantasies about being crucified, just like you are now. Seeing you up there, it's like a dream come true. I'm kind of jealous," Anne confessed, her eyes shining with a strange excitement.

"Trust me, Anne, it's better not to live these fantasies up. It's agony," Michelle said, trying to convey the reality of her pain and fear. “Agony for now. Then… it will be only death.”

"But you make it look so... enticing," Kate chimed in, her gaze fixed on Michelle.

"Guys, seriously? I'm dying in pain here," Michelle's voice cracked, the absurdity of the conversation juxtaposing sharply with her suffering.

"I know, but you're doing it so bravely. We're all so proud of you," Mark added, his tone oddly cheerful.

"Proud? I'm being executed for a parking violation!" Michelle's disbelief was palpable.

"Yes, but look at the crowd you've drawn. You're the center of attention, a real celebrity," Jenna said, trying to find a silver lining in the situation of her doomed daughter.

"Mom, I'd rather be an unknown living person than a famous dead one," Michelle retorted, her frustration growing.

"But darling, think of the statement you're making. You're a part of history now," Jenna continued, her voice filled with a bizarre sense of excitement.

"Yeah, a bloody and painful part of history," Michelle muttered, closing her eyes against the burning sun and the surreal nature of her family's comments.

"Just remember, we all love you, Michelle. And we'll remember you always, especially like this," Jenna added, reaching up to gently touch Michelle's foot.

"Great, I'll be remembered as the girl who was crucified for parking badly, with her nipples and pussy in full view! What a legacy," Michelle said, a tear escaping her eye, the reality of her situation sinking in.

As her family continued to shower her with odd compliments and discuss her situation as if it were a spectacle, Michelle couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of surrealism. Her body ached, each breath was a struggle, and yet here they were, discussing her like she was a piece of art. She hung there, a spectacle for all to see, her life reduced to a cautionary tale and a morbid form of entertainment.

 

[Zephirantes]

"Oh, Michelle, just look at you up there; it’s like you were born to be nailed naked on that cross," Sally remarked, her voice echoing under the vast, open sky, turning heads as spectators gathered around the grim scene.

"I always knew I'd make headlines, but not quite like this," Michelle replied, her voice strained but tinged with a bitter irony. The crowd murmured appreciatively at her resilience, finding dark humor in her plight.

"Well, darling, you're certainly pulling a crowd better than any rock star could," Bob chuckled, stepping back to admire the spectacle they had orchestrated. "Could say you’re a natural!"

"Your flower showing all its tender and juicy petals looks very natural indeed!" Jake added, pointing towards Michelle's exposed body, drawing a few shocked gasps and smirks from the onlookers.

"Don't make me laugh, Bob. It hurts to laugh here," Michelle winced, attempting to shift her position slightly, only to be reminded of her painful predicament by a sharp sting from the nails.

"Oh, the pain is part of the experience, sweetheart. Think of it as the universe embracing you. Every throb is a note in the symphony of the cosmos," Tom intoned, his voice deep and philosophical, trying to provide a grandiose context to her suffering.

"Symphony or not, I'd rather be out of tune," Michelle muttered, casting a longing look at the ground below. Her mom, Jenna, waved cheerily at her, sending Michelle’s heart sinking even further.

"You’re doing amazing, sweetie!" Jenna called out enthusiastically. "You look absolutely gorgeous up there!"

"Yeah, sis, you’re basically a model right now. A bit more... nailed than usual..." Anne added with a smirk, causing a slight chuckle amidst the crowd. "... and naked. Your nipples are so hard and, well, your pussy so wet and open, I hope at some level part of you is enjoying all this, darling."

"Not helping," Michelle hissed through clenched teeth, her discomfort made palpable by her squirming.

"Hey, look on the bright side," Jake leaned closer, his grin wide. "You don’t need to worry about wardrobe malfunctions at least!" His fingers brushed against her left labia in a mock examination of her nudity.

Michelle shivered at the touch, a complex mix of emotions clouding her face. "Fantastic, a naked model nailed to a cross. Just what I always wanted to be when I grew up," she responded sarcastically, drawing a few laughs from the more morbidly amused onlookers.

"You know, in some cultures, being sacrificed naked was considered an honor," Tom offered helpfully, always eager to provide a broader perspective on potentially barbaric traditions.

"Great, remind me to thank them when I’m not being stretched like a piece of canvas," Michelle shot back, the crowd around her growing thicker as word of the crucifixion spread.

As the sun climbed higher, the spectacle of Michelle’s crucifixion drew spectators from all corners, the executioners ensuring to maintain a lively atmosphere to captivate the audience. They mingled, joked, and occasionally, poked fun at Michelle to keep her responsive and engaged despite her obvious agony.

"So, Michelle, tell me, how does it feel to be the star of the show?" Sally asked, checking the stability of the ropes and nails.

"Like being the main dish at a banquet I didn’t want to attend," Michelle replied, a sheen of sweat on her forehead reflecting her effort to stay composed under the sun’s merciless gaze.

"Oh, come now, it's not every day one gets to headline such a thrilling event," Sally winked, her tone suggesting a macabre festivity.

"Thrilling for who? I'm just the one hanging around," Michelle quipped back, her voice macabre yet spirited, eliciting chuckles from those nearby. "And I won't be here when everything will be finished, I'll be dead. Only my naked corpse will remain..."

"She’s got spirit, I'll give her that," Bob noted to Jake, who nodded appreciatively at Michelle’s dark humor.

"Indeed. Adds a bit of spice to the whole affair," Jake agreed, their attention briefly diverting to a group of spectators who moved closer, captivated by the grim tableau of Michelle’s suffering.

"Hey, Michelle, think of this as a chance to really stretch yourself," Bob quipped, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Bob, your sense of humor is as twisted as the method of my execution," Michelle snapped back, her voice dripping with sarcasm despite the obvious pain lacing each word.

"You know, there’s a very peculiar beauty to your suffering," Sally remarked thoughtfully, stepping back to admire the spectacle she had helped create. "The way your body curves against the wood, the sweat mixing with the dust, it’s quite the picture."

"Glad you find it beautiful. I find it agonizing," Michelle grimaced, struggling to breathe evenly as her body bore the brutal imprint of the cross.

"Oh, be honest girl: yes, it is painful, okay, but not so painful. As I said before, what really upsets you is not pain, but this helplessness of being pinned and exposed. Isn't it?" Sally prodded, seeking some philosophical insight even in the midst of cruelty.

"Well, it is painful, but I might concede it is not, strictly speaking, 'agonizing'. Not yet at least. I fear it'll get worse with time," Michelle conceded, her voice strained under the physical and emotional weight of her predicament.

"Anyway, pain and beauty often go hand in hand," Tom chimed in, always eager to find a deeper meaning in the macabre. "Consider the art of tattooing or body modification."

"Except I didn’t choose this ‘body modification,’" Michelle pointed out sharply, her gaze fierce even as her body was displayed helplessly before the crowd.

The mood around the cross remained grotesquely festive, with people passing around drinks and snacks as if at a bizarre summer picnic, treating the event as a community gathering rather than a solemn or horrific affair.

"Really, Michelle, you should consider this an honor. How many people can say they died for such a... unique cause?" Bob tried to inject some warped sense of pride into the situation.

"Wow, thanks, Bob. I feel so much better knowing my death is entertainment for the masses," Michelle retorted, the irony not lost on the attentive crowd that chuckled at her wit.

The executioners continued their meticulous work, checking and rechecking the security of the nails and ropes, ensuring Michelle would remain the center of attention for the cruel show they orchestrated. They bantered back and forth, keeping the atmosphere light and cruelly jovial.

"You know, this could be seen as a form of art. You're like a modern-day Mona Lisa, only a bit more... exposed," Sally joked, attempting to keep spirits high among the crowd. "In fact, I don't remember Mona-Lisa exposing her boobs or slit..."

"I’d rather be an obscure graffiti than the most famous crucifixion," Michelle shot back, her spirit unbroken by her grim reality.

"Don't worry, we'll make sure you're the most beautiful crucifixion in history," Tom reassured her gently, his tone soft as he considered her form. "I confess, if you spread your legs and give us a better view of your pussy, well, your crucifixion will improve as a show, you can be sure of that!"

"Not sure if that’s supposed to make me feel better," Michelle sighed, her eyes briefly closing as she tried to find solace in any small respite from her pain.

"You're quite the spectacle, my dear. Truly a sight to behold," Sally added, her voice soft but disturbingly kind as she looked at Michelle's stretched, nailed form.

"Glad I could be of service," Michelle murmured bitterly, her dry sarcasm providing a stark contrast to her brutal suffering.

"Think of it this way, you're not alone. You have all of us here with you," Jake tried to offer a weird form of comfort, his words meant to soothe.

"Yes, all here to watch me suffer and die. Very comforting... oh, well at least I won’t have to pay for parking ever again," Michelle's laugh was hollow, reflecting the absurdity of her situation.

"That's the spirit, look for the silver lining even in this, well, very permanent predicament of yours," Bob added, clapping his hands lightly in a mock show of support.

"Exactly, and permanency is part of what makes it so raw and real. This isn't some premeditated act of personal expression; it's primal, elemental," Tom elaborated, his gaze intense as he watched her struggle.

"Primal? Elemental? You make it sound like a force of nature," Michelle gasped out, the pain evident as she shifted slightly, the nails holding her firmly in place.

"It is, in a way. This is humanity at its most basic: the spectacle of life and death, right here on display," Tom continued, his philosophical tone providing a stark contrast to the grim physical reality before them.

"And I'm the unlucky star of this barbaric show," Michelle said, her voice tinged with a mix of defeat and sharp wit.

"But what a star you are," Sally chimed in, her voice warm despite the coldness of the situation. "You're showing everyone here the depths of human endurance. Your pain, your beauty, your suffering—it's all part of the unforgettable performance you're giving."

"Thanks, but I’d much prefer applause for a different kind of performance," Michelle retorted dryly, her gaze wandering over the crowd that was still gathering, drawn by the spectacle of her agony.

"Like... a porn-show?" Jake joked, eliciting a snort of laughter from some of the more irreverent onlookers.

"Not what I had in mind!" Michelle shot back, still able to muster some humor despite her dire circumstances.

"Speaking of performances," Jake leaned in closer, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "I’ve noticed a few members of the audience seem particularly... enthralled by your... resilience."

"And by 'resilience' he means your naked body," Bob interjected with a chuckle, not missing an opportunity to inject a bit of lewd humor into the conversation.

Michelle’s eyes followed Jake's gaze into the crowd, spotting several faces flush with excitement, their eyes locked on her. "Great, just what I needed, to be seen as a crucified porn-star!"

"In a sense, you are, albeit, well, involuntary. They admire your strength, your ability to endure, and, well, how damn sexy you look," Sally tried to put a positive spin on it, her voice soothing.

"I’d rather they admire me for something less painful, less humiliating, and, well, less deadly," Michelle sighed deeply, the reality of her situation weighing heavily on her.

"Don’t underestimate the power of this image, Michelle. People will talk about this for generations," Tom said solemnly, his voice imbued with a strange reverence.

"Yeah, ‘Remember Michelle? She was that naked girl who got nailed to a cross with her slutty pussy leaking girl juice and died in front of a cheering crowd.’ Great legacy," Michelle replied sarcastically, her words sharp as knives.

"Hey, it’s more than most get," Bob quipped, always ready to find a silver lining, no matter how twisted.

"True. Most people don't get a crowd to witness their final moments. And don't have their, well, genital fluids so openly shown. Consider yourself lucky," Jake added, half-smiling as he observed her reaction.

"Lucky isn’t the word I’d use," Michelle fired back, her voice laced with bitterness.

"Still, it's fascinating, isn't it? How pain and pleasure can be so closely intertwined. Some of the spectators are clearly getting more than just a visual spectacle," Sally mused, her eyes scanning the increasingly animated crowd.

"They're drawn to it, compelled by it. It's a part of human nature that's often hidden, wrapped in shame or decorum. But today, it's laid bare, just like you," she continued, her tone almost clinical as she described the scene.

"And just like me, they can’t look away," Michelle acknowledged, a grim realization dawning upon her.

"Exactly," Sally nodded. "Your crucifixion strips back the veneer of society. It exposes the raw, untamed parts of us all. A girl dying with her privates exposed. What's more raw than that?"

"So, I’m a lesson in human psychology now?" Michelle joked weakly, trying to find some humor in her excruciating situation.

"In a way, yes. You're a mirror reflecting their own fears and desires," Tom suggested, his tone serious as he considered the broader implications of her public ordeal.

"Terrific. I’m a psychological study, a cautionary tale, and a piece of live art all rolled into one," Michelle quipped, her voice rich with irony and fatigue.

"And an incredibly brave and sexy gal," Jenna shouted from below, her maternal instincts kicking in to provide whatever comfort she could in the bizarre circumstances.

"Thanks, Mom. Your support means a lot, especially now," Michelle called down, managing a weak smile for her mother despite the intense pain.

"Always, honey. You're making us all proud, in your own unique way," Jenna replied, her voice thick with emotion. Her eyes shimmered with tears, a mixture of pride and sorrow as she gazed up at her daughter's form, stark against the wooden cross.

"Proud to be the family of the girl on the cross," Anne added, her voice carrying a mixture of pride and a strange fascination.

"It's not how I wanted to make you proud," Michelle responded, her voice breaking slightly under the strain of pain and the emotional weight of her family's words.

"But you have, more than you know," Mark stepped closer, his voice strong and clear. "You're showing us all how to face the end with courage."

"Courage born of necessity, Mark. If I could run, I would," Michelle admitted, her honesty raw as she hung suspended. Her breathing was labored, each breath a visible effort.

"Maybe so, but you’re facing it head-on, and that’s what counts," Kate said, reaching up to gently squeeze Michelle's foot, a tender gesture that Michelle felt, even in her numbed state.

"Thanks, Kate. That means a lot," Michelle managed to reply, giving her sister a weak smile.

"Or, perhaps," Kate added with a hint of mischief in her tone, "I should say pussy-on. You know, Michelle, I think some pretty heavy treatment is in store for your sex soon..."

The crowd around the cross had grown silent for a moment, absorbing the poignant exchange between Michelle and her family. But as the emotional gravity of the scene deepened, the executioners knew they had to maintain their role in keeping the atmosphere balanced between the solemnity of the occasion and the public’s curiosity.