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some own work by thecuriousone
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- female crucifixion
thecuriousone
Governor
Lately profits have been going down. The management announced that end of the month the employee with the worst performance would be crucified.
She missed the deadline, resulting in losing a major customer. When the cross was erected and she was tied to it, she was still giggling, thinking of it as a joke. She did not know that one of her junior colleages, one that is eager for promotion, has been sent to the toolshop to get a hammer and nails.
She missed the deadline, resulting in losing a major customer. When the cross was erected and she was tied to it, she was still giggling, thinking of it as a joke. She did not know that one of her junior colleages, one that is eager for promotion, has been sent to the toolshop to get a hammer and nails.
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thecuriousone
Governor
This cop stumbled by accident on our meth lab. Mick had her under control at gunpoint before she could call for backup. She tried to be the strong women, not showing her pain when we nailed her to a cross. When we started laying our drill, meathooks and chainsaw on the table before her, her eyes started to show how scared she actually was.
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thecuriousone
Governor
...and she believed them?!?!?!
thecuriousone
Governor
Some women are so naive....
thecuriousone
Governor
thecuriousone
Governor
I wrote a story, still quite short but my longest so far. About a woman that chooses to crucify herself with a machine. With a pic that belongs to the story.
The crucifying machine in the park
in the park just south of to the city centre there is a machine for people that wish to end their life. It nails volunteers to a cross and hoists them high in the air, where they suffer for days while countless people watch them while they relax in the park. Most people don't understand why, but sometimes someone puts it to use. At the first monday of each month, the remains of crucyfied people, if any, are taken from their crosses and incinerated by the local authoritties. Until that time, bodies would be on display on their cross ten meters above the central square in the park.
One sunny afternoon, Mia sat on a bench in the park, her gaze fixated on the peculiar device that seemed to be a spectacle. The machine was a bizarre contraption; a wooden cross mounted on a sturdy steel pole. It had sturdy metal cuffs in open position, as if they were inviting you to put your limb in them. Various mechanics were connected to the cuffs, their purpose not clear to Mia. She had always been fascinated by it, but she never quite understood the purpose.
Only a couple of weeks ago Mia had moved to this city, after getting an office job that was completely unsatisfying. But the bills had to be paid, so she reluctantly endured the stress, the workload, and the constant negative feedback from her boss.
As Mia watched, a young woman approached the machine, her eyes full of resolution. She stepped out of her dress revealing a stunningly beautiful body, climbed onto the stainless steel cross, and placed her hands and feet against the automatic cuffs.
"This is it," the woman whispered to herself, her voice trembling with both fear and determination. The crowd had gathered in hushed whispers, their eyes fixed on her as if she were some kind of exotic beast. Mia couldn't help but feel a mix of sadness and curiosity as she observed the scene unfold.
With a final, deep breath, the young woman closed her eyes, her hands and feet clenching against the cold metal of the cuffs. A few moments later, the machine sprang to life with a low hum, and her body suddenly jerked off the cross, her arms and legs straightening and locked into place. Then the nails were driven into her hands and feet, and she was lifted high into the air. Her screams echoed through the park, but they were quickly drowned out by the murmur of the crowd.
Mia couldn't look away, her curiosity turning into a morbid fascination. She watched as the young woman writhed in agony, her body strung up as if crucified. The hydraulic rams worked in unison, raising her higher and higher into the sky.
While the afternoon turned into evening, the young woman's screams grew fainter, and her body began to show signs of fatigue. But still, she endured, her eyes closed tight and her body trembling.
Even with all her whits Mia couldn't understand the reason behind this bizarre spectacle, but she couldn't tear herself away. She sat there, watching as the young woman's torment continued, her eyes fixed on the peculiar view.
Mia had to leave the park eventually, as the sun began to set and darkness enveloped the city, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this machine, and the woman's painful ordeal, would haunt her dreams for days to come. The sight of the girl's suffering and the casual indifference of the crowd that gathered to watch her grapple with her demons left Mia with a profound sense of disillusionment.
As she walked away from the park, the city began to seem stranger and more alien to her. The people bustling around her seemed to have a darkness in their eyes, a hidden pain that they could not escape. It was as if the machine in the park had somehow revealed the true nature of the world, and Mia was left questioning everything she had ever known.
The next day Mia passed the park early morning, when going to work. She could not resist to make a short detour, to visit the machine. Almost no people were around, just someone walking his dog, oblivious of what had happened the day before. To her surprise, the woman still hung on the cross, seemingly lifeless. Mia approached to take a closer look. Suddenly, the woman opened her eyes.
"Are you okay?" Mia asked cautiously, her voice barely audible as she moved closer to the woman. The woman didn't respond, but she gave Mia a faint smile. There was something in her eyes that Mia couldn't quite place. It was a mixture of pain, determination, and deep sadness. “Why did you do this?”
“I've lived a life of suffering and despair. This isn't an easy decision, but I've had enough. I chose this because I wanted to take control of my final moments. The crowd, the pain...it's all part of my journey. I don't expect you to understand, but I wanted to do this in a way that was...public. A statement, perhaps. To show that even in our darkest moments, we can still find the strength to endure."
Mia couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had been so affected by the spectacle that she had never stop to consider the woman's perspective. The woman's determination and resilience were both terrifying and admirable.
"I don't know if I can accept this," Mia said, her voice quivering. "But I won't just walk away from you. Will you do something for me? That you'll tell me your name, so I can pray for you?"
The woman's smile grew a little more genuine as she replied, "My name is Adria. I know it might be hard for you to understand, but I appreciate your concern. Please, just remember that we all have our own battles to fight, and sometimes, the ones we fight might not be visible to those around us." Mia nodded solemnly, feeling a strange sense of connection to this woman she had just met. She took one last look at Adria before turning to leave the park, feeling changed by the encounter. As she walked away, she couldn't shake the thought of Adria hanging on the cross, enduring her painful ordeal in a way that seemed so foreign to her own life.
Over the next few days, Mia found herself returning to the park to check on Adria. Every time, she was surprised to see her still hanging there, her body pale and weak but her spirit unbroken. She never spoke to Mia, but their silent connection grew stronger with each passing day.
One morning, as Mia approached the park, she saw something that made her heart skip a beat. Adria's body was limp, and her eyes were closed. She had not moved in hours. Fear and panic filled Mia's chest. She raced to the base of the contraption, her hands shaking hoped against all odds to see a sign of life. There was none.
As Mia stood there, her heart heavy with sadness, she couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. She had come to understand the woman's reason for choosing such an extreme method of ending her life, even if she couldn't fully comprehend it.
As Mia watched the crowd go about their business, seemingly oblivious to what had happened, she felt a sense of disconnect. She couldn't help but wonder how they could not care at about Adria’s fate.
Mia stood there for a while, watching the world go by, feeling like an outsider in this strange city. She couldn't shake the feeling that the world had changed. She turned to leave, feeling like she needed to go back to her own life but also feeling the weight of Adria's story and her own disillusionment.
As Mia left the park, she didn't know what to think. She had never witnessed anything quite like it. She felt like she had been given a glimpse into a world she had never seen before, a world of pain and suffering that was hidden beneath the surface. She couldn't help but feel like she had been forever changed by her encounter with Adria.
In the days that followed, Mia found herself thinking about Adria a lot. She couldn't stop wondering why someone would want to subject themselves to such pain and suffering in order to find some sort of release.
But also she wondered what it would feel like to do the same herself.
As the days passed, Mia found herself returning to the park more frequently, drawn to the spot where Adria had hung. Each time, she hoped to see some sign of movement from the still figure. But it remained as she had left it, a silent reminder of the brutal spectacle she had witnessed.
Mia tried to push the thoughts of Adria from her mind, but they continued to haunt her. She found herself sneaking glances at strangers, wondering if they too were hiding a secret pain. She began to see the world in a new light, one where the facade of normalcy concealed a multitude of suffering. Again and again she thought about using the machine to crucify herself.
Summer turned into autumn, followed by a dark, unpleasant winter until the springtime came. Mia's job drained her, as the bitch that somehow obtained the right to call herself boss found again and again new ways to make Mia and other people feel useless. The dark thoughts of self-inflicted suffering kept on creeping back into her mind. Every evening, she found herself walking past the park and couldn't resist the urge to visit the machine, hoping to find some solace.
However, she was unable to shake them off. Instead, the dreams became only stronger every day until she could not think about anything else any more. She couldn't stop considering how it would be if she could just end the pain and suffering she felt inside. And yet, she also felt a sense of fascination with the machine, as if it represented a way out of the darkness that she couldn't escape.
One day, as she was sitting in her office, Mia found herself daydreaming about the machine and Adria. She imagined herself lying on the cold metal surface, the ropes pulling tight around her wrists and ankles. The pain would be excruciating, but the sensation of being lifted high into the sky would be exhilarating.
As her thoughts became more vivid, Mia found herself logging out, getting up and telling her boss: Ï don’t feel well, miss Walker. I better take the day off and go home to take some sleep.” A very unfriendly remark about her attitude from her boss, but it did not touch her any more. She was already underway out of the office.
Mia was glad to leave her office and found herself taking the long way towards the park where she had witnessed Adria's crucifixion. She was resolved to get herself crucified. There it was, dominating the square in the middle of the park. Her looming doom.
As Mia approached the machine, she felt a strange sense of calm wash over her. It was as if this was her destiny, and there was no turning back. She could hear the voices of those around her, but they seemed distant, as if they were speaking from a different world.
With determination in her eyes, Mia discarded her clothes, stepped onto the machine that would be her destruction, and placed herself into the indicated position. She could feel the cold steel restraints at the back of her hands, but the sensation only fueled her desire to experience the pain and suffering that Adria had endured.
As the restraints tightened with a loud click, readjusting her limbs to fit exactly in the restraints with irresistable power, she felt a strange sense of exhilaration and release. For the first time in what felt like forever, she was taking control of her life, her fate. She felt a rush of energy coursing through her veins as she struggled against the unrelenting metal cuffs, twisting and turning and somehow feeling just right.
A crowd had gathered around the machine, murmuring and whispering among themselves. Mia could hear them, but she refused to acknowledge them. She focused on her goal, her determination unwavering.
It was then, as she felt the nails penetrate her skin with another loud click, and the cross started to raise upwards, that she experienced a sense of euphoria. The pain was intense, but it was a pain she chose, a pain she controlled. It was difficult to breathe, but she felt as if she were free while restrained, as if she were finally escaping the darkness that had consumed her.
As her body hung there, she closed her eyes and let go. She was no longer Mia, she was just a spectacle, a statement, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, we can find the strength to endure, to fight, to make a choice.
When the cross was raised in the air the crowd watched in awe, some horrified, some fascinated. Some recording everything on their phones. But Mia’s connection with them was gone. They meant nothing to her any more. She didn't care that she would be all over social media. She was free. She would never have to face the pain and suffering of this world again. She was joining Adria in a place where there was no more darkness, only light.
That evening there was a performance at a stage on the other side of the park. She could hear the music in the distance, and see the people dancing and being happy. It was chilly, and she was high enough in the air to be fully exposed, and feel the cold wind drain all warmth from her exposed body.
As Mia hung there, her body growing colder and limp, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She had finally overcome the darkness that had consumed her for so long. The world below seemed distant and unimportant now – a place where people danced and laughed, while she soared above it all, in pain but also free from her pain.
Mia's spirit soared, her mind filled with images of Adria's crucifixion. She had shown her how to find the strength to endure, to fight, and to make a choice – even if it meant taking her own life. In that moment, Mia knew it was the only way she could truly escape the torment that had plagued her for so long.
The crowd below began to disperse,leaving behind just some rubble, empty beer cans, and the occasional homeless junkie finding a spot to use his means to escape from the real world.
As the night wore on, Mia's body began to lose feeling. Her fingers and toes tingled, then numbed, and she became overwhelmingly tired. But she could not rest, she had to lift her body up again and again to make breathing easier.
She closed her eyes for some time, and when she opened them she noticed the sun began to rise. Maybe just a normal sunrise, but for Mia it was the most beautiful spectacle. She knew that she would possibly not see another sunrise. Mia's body grew colder still. Her skin felt like it was made of ice, and her breaths came faster and shallower. She wondered how long it would take, before her time would be up.
Down below in the park, the day started, Cleaners collected the trash from the day before, people walked their dogs and the junkies left to hassle some money to score another hit. the sun became warmer, a promising spring day. Some birds sang from the trees, occasionally landing in the grass to pick something to eat. Once, a dove landed on the cross. Mia wanted to touch it. So close, but, restrained as Mia was, so far out of reach.
For a while, Mia let herself drift in that place between life and death. The sun continued its ascent, gaining in strength and warming her up. As the world below slowly came back to life, she remained suspended, a silent witness to the cycle of life and death that unfolded around her.
The doves continued to cricle around the cross, their wings sometimes brushing against her icy skin. She tried to reach out to them, to touch their softness and warmth. But it was an impossible task, one she knew she would never be able to complete.
As the morning wore on, it became hotter and hotter. Her pale skin was fully exposed to the mercyless sunbeams, no sunblock to protect her. After a couple of hours her skin felt like it was on fire, but she was determined to make it through the day. Something was adding to her lack of comfort, the more and more urgent need to pee. There was only one resolve, just let it go. She heard someone shouting: “Look at her, she peed herself!” Now she felt utterly humiliated.
In the evening her skin was red as a lobster, her throat was like leather from dehydration and she had no feeling at all in her arms anymore.
Suddenly she heard a voice she recognized from below. It was her boss, the horrible Miss Walker. “So here you are Mia. Now I know why you did not show up at work. And it is so difficult nowadays to hire competent people. Not that you were competent by the way. Anyway, you’re fired, Mia. I think you will not be able to clear out your desk in person, so I will do that for you tomorrow. Have a great night on your cross and goodbye Mia.
Mia wanted to shout some insults towards her heartless boss, but, dehydrated as she was, her voice refused.
She mustered the last of her strength to utter a final, hoarse retort. "Adria, wherever you are, I hope you're proud of me." With that, she closed her eyes and let the sun's rays wash over her, ready to surrender to the inevitable.
As the night fell over the park, Mia's body slowly grew colder, her breaths shallow and weak. The birds had long since departed for the safety of their nests, leaving behind only the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.
In the distance, the sound of laughter and music from the bars nearby could still faintly be heard, but it was muted now, as if muffled by a thick veil of mist. Mia's spirit, too, felt distant and remote, drifting away from the world below like a ghost.
Then she heard a familiar voice again. “Mia! Is that you??? What are you doing up there.” It was her best friend Jenny. Mia tried to say something, but could not. She just looked at Jenny, standing below her cross hand in hand with the man she was currently dating. “Why did you do this?” Jenny looked sad. “It’s too late now. I hope you don’t suffer too much. Farewell Mia.” With tears in her eyes, Jenny turned around and walked off with her lover.
In that moment, Mia felt a deep sadness wash over her, knowing that her friend would never understand. She could only watch helplessly as Jenny disappeared from her sight, becoming just another speck in the distance.
The cool night air began to replace the heat of the day, and Mia's body grew colder still. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift, thinking of all the times she and Jenny had shared, the laughter, the tears, and the pain. In her mind's eye, she saw Jenny's face one last time, etched with sadness and confusion as she turned away.
As Mia swayed on the cross, the crowd below slowly thinned out, leaving only a few remaining onlookers. They whispered to one another, trying to make sense of what they had witnessed. Some were visibly shaken, while others simply turned away, their curiosity sated.
In the quietness of the deserted park, Mia’s body swayed on her cross in the cold wind, but she barely noticed anything anymore. The night was just a haze to her mind.
She opened her eyes and noticed that she had survived another night, it was morning again. Her mind drifted away again. Then she heard wings flapping. A crow has landed on her shoulder. She was too weak to try to chase it away. It started picking at her eyes. Mia tried to swipe at the crow, but her weakened arms could not escape the restraints. The pain from the pecking was overwhelming, but her tired body couldn't bring herself to struggle.
She remained suspended, a blinded, silent witness to the new day as another crow landed on her and started tearing a piece of her flesh. She hoped for it all to end soon.
Let it end.
Let it end.
......
During the day several crows picked at her, mutilating her dying body. By the evening she was unrecognizable. But she did not notice any more. She was together with Adria in the next world.
The crucifying machine in the park
in the park just south of to the city centre there is a machine for people that wish to end their life. It nails volunteers to a cross and hoists them high in the air, where they suffer for days while countless people watch them while they relax in the park. Most people don't understand why, but sometimes someone puts it to use. At the first monday of each month, the remains of crucyfied people, if any, are taken from their crosses and incinerated by the local authoritties. Until that time, bodies would be on display on their cross ten meters above the central square in the park.
One sunny afternoon, Mia sat on a bench in the park, her gaze fixated on the peculiar device that seemed to be a spectacle. The machine was a bizarre contraption; a wooden cross mounted on a sturdy steel pole. It had sturdy metal cuffs in open position, as if they were inviting you to put your limb in them. Various mechanics were connected to the cuffs, their purpose not clear to Mia. She had always been fascinated by it, but she never quite understood the purpose.
Only a couple of weeks ago Mia had moved to this city, after getting an office job that was completely unsatisfying. But the bills had to be paid, so she reluctantly endured the stress, the workload, and the constant negative feedback from her boss.
As Mia watched, a young woman approached the machine, her eyes full of resolution. She stepped out of her dress revealing a stunningly beautiful body, climbed onto the stainless steel cross, and placed her hands and feet against the automatic cuffs.
"This is it," the woman whispered to herself, her voice trembling with both fear and determination. The crowd had gathered in hushed whispers, their eyes fixed on her as if she were some kind of exotic beast. Mia couldn't help but feel a mix of sadness and curiosity as she observed the scene unfold.
With a final, deep breath, the young woman closed her eyes, her hands and feet clenching against the cold metal of the cuffs. A few moments later, the machine sprang to life with a low hum, and her body suddenly jerked off the cross, her arms and legs straightening and locked into place. Then the nails were driven into her hands and feet, and she was lifted high into the air. Her screams echoed through the park, but they were quickly drowned out by the murmur of the crowd.
Mia couldn't look away, her curiosity turning into a morbid fascination. She watched as the young woman writhed in agony, her body strung up as if crucified. The hydraulic rams worked in unison, raising her higher and higher into the sky.
While the afternoon turned into evening, the young woman's screams grew fainter, and her body began to show signs of fatigue. But still, she endured, her eyes closed tight and her body trembling.
Even with all her whits Mia couldn't understand the reason behind this bizarre spectacle, but she couldn't tear herself away. She sat there, watching as the young woman's torment continued, her eyes fixed on the peculiar view.
Mia had to leave the park eventually, as the sun began to set and darkness enveloped the city, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this machine, and the woman's painful ordeal, would haunt her dreams for days to come. The sight of the girl's suffering and the casual indifference of the crowd that gathered to watch her grapple with her demons left Mia with a profound sense of disillusionment.
As she walked away from the park, the city began to seem stranger and more alien to her. The people bustling around her seemed to have a darkness in their eyes, a hidden pain that they could not escape. It was as if the machine in the park had somehow revealed the true nature of the world, and Mia was left questioning everything she had ever known.
The next day Mia passed the park early morning, when going to work. She could not resist to make a short detour, to visit the machine. Almost no people were around, just someone walking his dog, oblivious of what had happened the day before. To her surprise, the woman still hung on the cross, seemingly lifeless. Mia approached to take a closer look. Suddenly, the woman opened her eyes.
"Are you okay?" Mia asked cautiously, her voice barely audible as she moved closer to the woman. The woman didn't respond, but she gave Mia a faint smile. There was something in her eyes that Mia couldn't quite place. It was a mixture of pain, determination, and deep sadness. “Why did you do this?”
“I've lived a life of suffering and despair. This isn't an easy decision, but I've had enough. I chose this because I wanted to take control of my final moments. The crowd, the pain...it's all part of my journey. I don't expect you to understand, but I wanted to do this in a way that was...public. A statement, perhaps. To show that even in our darkest moments, we can still find the strength to endure."
Mia couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had been so affected by the spectacle that she had never stop to consider the woman's perspective. The woman's determination and resilience were both terrifying and admirable.
"I don't know if I can accept this," Mia said, her voice quivering. "But I won't just walk away from you. Will you do something for me? That you'll tell me your name, so I can pray for you?"
The woman's smile grew a little more genuine as she replied, "My name is Adria. I know it might be hard for you to understand, but I appreciate your concern. Please, just remember that we all have our own battles to fight, and sometimes, the ones we fight might not be visible to those around us." Mia nodded solemnly, feeling a strange sense of connection to this woman she had just met. She took one last look at Adria before turning to leave the park, feeling changed by the encounter. As she walked away, she couldn't shake the thought of Adria hanging on the cross, enduring her painful ordeal in a way that seemed so foreign to her own life.
Over the next few days, Mia found herself returning to the park to check on Adria. Every time, she was surprised to see her still hanging there, her body pale and weak but her spirit unbroken. She never spoke to Mia, but their silent connection grew stronger with each passing day.
One morning, as Mia approached the park, she saw something that made her heart skip a beat. Adria's body was limp, and her eyes were closed. She had not moved in hours. Fear and panic filled Mia's chest. She raced to the base of the contraption, her hands shaking hoped against all odds to see a sign of life. There was none.
As Mia stood there, her heart heavy with sadness, she couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. She had come to understand the woman's reason for choosing such an extreme method of ending her life, even if she couldn't fully comprehend it.
As Mia watched the crowd go about their business, seemingly oblivious to what had happened, she felt a sense of disconnect. She couldn't help but wonder how they could not care at about Adria’s fate.
Mia stood there for a while, watching the world go by, feeling like an outsider in this strange city. She couldn't shake the feeling that the world had changed. She turned to leave, feeling like she needed to go back to her own life but also feeling the weight of Adria's story and her own disillusionment.
As Mia left the park, she didn't know what to think. She had never witnessed anything quite like it. She felt like she had been given a glimpse into a world she had never seen before, a world of pain and suffering that was hidden beneath the surface. She couldn't help but feel like she had been forever changed by her encounter with Adria.
In the days that followed, Mia found herself thinking about Adria a lot. She couldn't stop wondering why someone would want to subject themselves to such pain and suffering in order to find some sort of release.
But also she wondered what it would feel like to do the same herself.
As the days passed, Mia found herself returning to the park more frequently, drawn to the spot where Adria had hung. Each time, she hoped to see some sign of movement from the still figure. But it remained as she had left it, a silent reminder of the brutal spectacle she had witnessed.
Mia tried to push the thoughts of Adria from her mind, but they continued to haunt her. She found herself sneaking glances at strangers, wondering if they too were hiding a secret pain. She began to see the world in a new light, one where the facade of normalcy concealed a multitude of suffering. Again and again she thought about using the machine to crucify herself.
Summer turned into autumn, followed by a dark, unpleasant winter until the springtime came. Mia's job drained her, as the bitch that somehow obtained the right to call herself boss found again and again new ways to make Mia and other people feel useless. The dark thoughts of self-inflicted suffering kept on creeping back into her mind. Every evening, she found herself walking past the park and couldn't resist the urge to visit the machine, hoping to find some solace.
However, she was unable to shake them off. Instead, the dreams became only stronger every day until she could not think about anything else any more. She couldn't stop considering how it would be if she could just end the pain and suffering she felt inside. And yet, she also felt a sense of fascination with the machine, as if it represented a way out of the darkness that she couldn't escape.
One day, as she was sitting in her office, Mia found herself daydreaming about the machine and Adria. She imagined herself lying on the cold metal surface, the ropes pulling tight around her wrists and ankles. The pain would be excruciating, but the sensation of being lifted high into the sky would be exhilarating.
As her thoughts became more vivid, Mia found herself logging out, getting up and telling her boss: Ï don’t feel well, miss Walker. I better take the day off and go home to take some sleep.” A very unfriendly remark about her attitude from her boss, but it did not touch her any more. She was already underway out of the office.
Mia was glad to leave her office and found herself taking the long way towards the park where she had witnessed Adria's crucifixion. She was resolved to get herself crucified. There it was, dominating the square in the middle of the park. Her looming doom.
As Mia approached the machine, she felt a strange sense of calm wash over her. It was as if this was her destiny, and there was no turning back. She could hear the voices of those around her, but they seemed distant, as if they were speaking from a different world.
With determination in her eyes, Mia discarded her clothes, stepped onto the machine that would be her destruction, and placed herself into the indicated position. She could feel the cold steel restraints at the back of her hands, but the sensation only fueled her desire to experience the pain and suffering that Adria had endured.
As the restraints tightened with a loud click, readjusting her limbs to fit exactly in the restraints with irresistable power, she felt a strange sense of exhilaration and release. For the first time in what felt like forever, she was taking control of her life, her fate. She felt a rush of energy coursing through her veins as she struggled against the unrelenting metal cuffs, twisting and turning and somehow feeling just right.
A crowd had gathered around the machine, murmuring and whispering among themselves. Mia could hear them, but she refused to acknowledge them. She focused on her goal, her determination unwavering.
It was then, as she felt the nails penetrate her skin with another loud click, and the cross started to raise upwards, that she experienced a sense of euphoria. The pain was intense, but it was a pain she chose, a pain she controlled. It was difficult to breathe, but she felt as if she were free while restrained, as if she were finally escaping the darkness that had consumed her.
As her body hung there, she closed her eyes and let go. She was no longer Mia, she was just a spectacle, a statement, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, we can find the strength to endure, to fight, to make a choice.
When the cross was raised in the air the crowd watched in awe, some horrified, some fascinated. Some recording everything on their phones. But Mia’s connection with them was gone. They meant nothing to her any more. She didn't care that she would be all over social media. She was free. She would never have to face the pain and suffering of this world again. She was joining Adria in a place where there was no more darkness, only light.
That evening there was a performance at a stage on the other side of the park. She could hear the music in the distance, and see the people dancing and being happy. It was chilly, and she was high enough in the air to be fully exposed, and feel the cold wind drain all warmth from her exposed body.
As Mia hung there, her body growing colder and limp, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She had finally overcome the darkness that had consumed her for so long. The world below seemed distant and unimportant now – a place where people danced and laughed, while she soared above it all, in pain but also free from her pain.
Mia's spirit soared, her mind filled with images of Adria's crucifixion. She had shown her how to find the strength to endure, to fight, and to make a choice – even if it meant taking her own life. In that moment, Mia knew it was the only way she could truly escape the torment that had plagued her for so long.
The crowd below began to disperse,leaving behind just some rubble, empty beer cans, and the occasional homeless junkie finding a spot to use his means to escape from the real world.
As the night wore on, Mia's body began to lose feeling. Her fingers and toes tingled, then numbed, and she became overwhelmingly tired. But she could not rest, she had to lift her body up again and again to make breathing easier.
She closed her eyes for some time, and when she opened them she noticed the sun began to rise. Maybe just a normal sunrise, but for Mia it was the most beautiful spectacle. She knew that she would possibly not see another sunrise. Mia's body grew colder still. Her skin felt like it was made of ice, and her breaths came faster and shallower. She wondered how long it would take, before her time would be up.
Down below in the park, the day started, Cleaners collected the trash from the day before, people walked their dogs and the junkies left to hassle some money to score another hit. the sun became warmer, a promising spring day. Some birds sang from the trees, occasionally landing in the grass to pick something to eat. Once, a dove landed on the cross. Mia wanted to touch it. So close, but, restrained as Mia was, so far out of reach.
For a while, Mia let herself drift in that place between life and death. The sun continued its ascent, gaining in strength and warming her up. As the world below slowly came back to life, she remained suspended, a silent witness to the cycle of life and death that unfolded around her.
The doves continued to cricle around the cross, their wings sometimes brushing against her icy skin. She tried to reach out to them, to touch their softness and warmth. But it was an impossible task, one she knew she would never be able to complete.
As the morning wore on, it became hotter and hotter. Her pale skin was fully exposed to the mercyless sunbeams, no sunblock to protect her. After a couple of hours her skin felt like it was on fire, but she was determined to make it through the day. Something was adding to her lack of comfort, the more and more urgent need to pee. There was only one resolve, just let it go. She heard someone shouting: “Look at her, she peed herself!” Now she felt utterly humiliated.
In the evening her skin was red as a lobster, her throat was like leather from dehydration and she had no feeling at all in her arms anymore.
Suddenly she heard a voice she recognized from below. It was her boss, the horrible Miss Walker. “So here you are Mia. Now I know why you did not show up at work. And it is so difficult nowadays to hire competent people. Not that you were competent by the way. Anyway, you’re fired, Mia. I think you will not be able to clear out your desk in person, so I will do that for you tomorrow. Have a great night on your cross and goodbye Mia.
Mia wanted to shout some insults towards her heartless boss, but, dehydrated as she was, her voice refused.
She mustered the last of her strength to utter a final, hoarse retort. "Adria, wherever you are, I hope you're proud of me." With that, she closed her eyes and let the sun's rays wash over her, ready to surrender to the inevitable.
As the night fell over the park, Mia's body slowly grew colder, her breaths shallow and weak. The birds had long since departed for the safety of their nests, leaving behind only the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.
In the distance, the sound of laughter and music from the bars nearby could still faintly be heard, but it was muted now, as if muffled by a thick veil of mist. Mia's spirit, too, felt distant and remote, drifting away from the world below like a ghost.
Then she heard a familiar voice again. “Mia! Is that you??? What are you doing up there.” It was her best friend Jenny. Mia tried to say something, but could not. She just looked at Jenny, standing below her cross hand in hand with the man she was currently dating. “Why did you do this?” Jenny looked sad. “It’s too late now. I hope you don’t suffer too much. Farewell Mia.” With tears in her eyes, Jenny turned around and walked off with her lover.
In that moment, Mia felt a deep sadness wash over her, knowing that her friend would never understand. She could only watch helplessly as Jenny disappeared from her sight, becoming just another speck in the distance.
The cool night air began to replace the heat of the day, and Mia's body grew colder still. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift, thinking of all the times she and Jenny had shared, the laughter, the tears, and the pain. In her mind's eye, she saw Jenny's face one last time, etched with sadness and confusion as she turned away.
As Mia swayed on the cross, the crowd below slowly thinned out, leaving only a few remaining onlookers. They whispered to one another, trying to make sense of what they had witnessed. Some were visibly shaken, while others simply turned away, their curiosity sated.
In the quietness of the deserted park, Mia’s body swayed on her cross in the cold wind, but she barely noticed anything anymore. The night was just a haze to her mind.
She opened her eyes and noticed that she had survived another night, it was morning again. Her mind drifted away again. Then she heard wings flapping. A crow has landed on her shoulder. She was too weak to try to chase it away. It started picking at her eyes. Mia tried to swipe at the crow, but her weakened arms could not escape the restraints. The pain from the pecking was overwhelming, but her tired body couldn't bring herself to struggle.
She remained suspended, a blinded, silent witness to the new day as another crow landed on her and started tearing a piece of her flesh. She hoped for it all to end soon.
Let it end.
Let it end.
......
During the day several crows picked at her, mutilating her dying body. By the evening she was unrecognizable. But she did not notice any more. She was together with Adria in the next world.
Attachments
thecuriousone
Governor
On this hot rod rally the drivers will have their paddock girl crucified on the front of their car. The winner will have his paddock girl taken off the cross, and medical treatment will be administered. The crosses with the paddock girls of the losers will be placed next to the race track.
Attachments
thecuriousone
Governor
thecuriousone
Governor
I got a sequel to my previous cruxs story the crucifying machine in the park. If you want to read that, just scroll back. I am not 100% satisfied, but can't get myself to get it perfect. So I post a story that in my own eys is pretty good, but not perfect.
The crucifying machine part 2: revenge on Miss Walker
No one who worked at Mr Walker her department was content. Over the past 8 months, five people in the department have quit their job. Two more were sacked by Miss Walker. It was said that she has driven one employee, Mia to commit suicide. And the list of complaints about her leadership and behaviour was so long that the general manager, Mr Smith, could not ignore it any more.
As Miss Walker entered the manager's office, she could sense the tension in the air. Mister Smith, the manager, sat behind his desk, looking stern and serious. Without skipping a beat, he began, "Miss Walker, we've been receiving numerous complaints about your behavior towards your colleagues. Your management style is causing unrest in the office. This cannot continue."
Miss Walker smirked confidently, knowing she held all the cards in this situation. She leaned in closer to the manager,took her phone and showed the recording that she had made at last year’s halloween office party. Mister Smith turned pale and muttered: ‘What…how…I don’t..” Miss Walker smiled and whispered, "You know that you got very drunk at the halloween party? That’s because I spiked your drink and took you with me to arrange a guarantee. I think your career is through the drain if people know you are assfucked by a big fat prostitute with a rubber strapon while wearing woman’s underwear. Not to mention your marriage. You wouldn't want certain... sensitive information to be leaked, would you?"
Mr Smith tried to look stern. "You would not dare. I will press criminal charges against you." This made Miss Walker start laughing out loud. "What evidence do you have? Good luck. By the way, I know your daughter is attending Blackwick High. Is this her, am I right?" She showed a picture on her phone again. "I know a certain guy, as ruthless as stupid. He absolutely adores me. Of course, I am just so adorable. I am sure that, for the promise of something romantic, he immediately will make her have an accident if I ask him."
The manager's expression changed as he realized what she was insinuating. He hesitated for a moment before sighing heavily and saying, "What do you want, Miss Walker?"
A triumphant smile spread across Miss Walker's face as she laid out her demands for a significant raise and a recommendation for promotion. Reluctantly, Mr Smith said: “Considering the situation, the complaints against you have no fundamental ground. I will arrange a salary raise of 10%, starting next month.” Mis Walker interrupted him with a teasing tone in her voice. “Make it 50% and we have a deal. At least for now. I expect promotion before the end of the year.”
You should have seen the colour of the face of Mr Smith when he agreed to the proposal.
Mister Smith had always prided himself on his professionalism and integrity. As the general manager of one of the most successful companies in its branch in Europe he had worked hard to earn the respect of his colleagues and employees. However, all of that was about to be threatened by the actions of Miss Walker. Smith had initially welcomed her with open arms, impressed by her skills and determination. But little did he know about what employing her as head of her department would ultimately lead to.
Meanwhile, in another part of the office, Fiona, one of the employees, was struggling to cope with the stress of her job. She had been constantly bullied and harassed by Miss Walker since the day she joined the company. Fiona was a hardworking and dedicated employee, but Miss Walker seemed to have a personal vendetta against her, even more than the other workers in the office. She had even gone to the extent of sabotaging Fiona's work and taking credit for her ideas. Two weeks before she had filed a well documented complaint against Miss Walker. Nothing had happened.
Smiling Miss Walker entered the office, and went straight to the desk of Fiona. She leaned on the corner of the desk and had this look in her eyes that could only spell trouble. With a teeming voice she said: "This report that you should make, you have not yet finished it. I needed it at lunchtime, and now it is 4 o'clock." "I am sorry Miss Walker, apologized Fiona. "I needed the data for this report yesterday at latest to finish it in time, and you delivered it only at 10 this morning." "You lazy zombie!" shouted Miss Walker. "You can't tell me that you need so much time to finish a lousy report. Do you have the brain of an ant? If you want any chance of keeping your job, you have the report at my desk at 9 in the morning, you incompetent bitch! And no, I don't care if you have to work all night to get it finished. Don't expect to get overtime for it, consider it a lesson in working more efficiently!" Laughing hysterically, Miss walker left the office. Fiona was about to start crying. Pete and Silvie, the two other employees in the office, were stunned. "I have never seen anyone be so utterly MEAN...." said Silvie. "We all filed complaints about her, and nothing happened. We should immediately go to the general manager and complain about her, all three of us."
Mister Smith sat in his chair with a defeated expression on his face. He looked Fiona, Pete and Sylvie in the eyes, seemingly defeated. "I will be honest with you. Just one hour ago, I tried to sack her. I found out that she is too dangerous for that. She will destroy anything that gets in her way. Even at the cost of someone's life." Fiona answered: "I think you are telling the truth. You looked so pale when we entered here, that meeting with her must have scared you to death. And I believe you when you say she does not care for another person's life. Remember Mia? Last spring she chose to crucify herself after months of enduring the tyranny of Miss Walker. And she boasted about it again and again, how Mia deserved what she did to herself. I can confirm that because I had contact with Mia's good friend Jenny. She said that Mia told that she really suffered from the stress that Miss Walker gave her, and that it must have been the reason why she chose suicide." The room was filled with a heavy sense of dread. They all knew that Miss Walker was a difficult person to work with, but they had never imagined what she was really capable of.
Pete said: "So we all have to find a way to stop her. I don't know how, but if there is no other choise, we have to be prepared to be as ruthless as Miss Walker, and do what we have to do. Let's all think about a solution, and come together friday evening to discuss how we can stop her." The others nodded in agreement. They knew that Miss Walker had to be stopped before she caused any more harm. It was clear that they would have to take matters into their own hands. 'Let's all think about a solution, and come together Friday evening to discuss how we can stop her," Pete suggested.
All agreed. And they did come up with a plan of vengeance so mean, that the average dictator would be proud of it.
The next wednesday, just before the end of the workday, Mister Smith called Miss Walker. He said: "I just received an email from our potential client, the Ansson group. They have expressed interest in meeting with us to discuss a multi-million dollar deal. Do you know Mr Sven Ansson? He happens to be in town." Miss Walker had no clue. He handed her a printout from the fabricated mail. "Mr Ansson is the founder of the Ansson group. The Ansson group have the potential to become our biggest customer in Scandinavia, if we can agree on this multi million dollar deal. I know he is not only single and handsome, but also filthy rich." Miss Walker's eyes twinkled. The smell of money attracted her like a decaying corpse attracts vultures.
"He and his sister Gea happen to be in town. They invited me to meet them in the VIP-lounge of the Sapphyre Club. He asked, to make her sister feel more at comfort in otherwise mostly men's company, to bring my wife with me. The fact is, my wife hates clubs. So I was thinking to bring you instead. Do you have some time this evening?"
This news made Miss Walker her heart skip a beat. If she could bait someone like Sven Ansson, she could potentially marry a fortune. A divorce later on, or maybe even better, an unfortunate accident, would make that fortune hers. She said: "I was planning to go out for dinner tonight, but a meeting with such an important person is reason enough to change my plans. I will be there," Miss Walker said while trying to contain her excitement, her mind already planning her outfit for the evening
Satisfied that she took the bait, Mr Smith said: "Good. In one hour we have to be there. And I know that's too short time to change clothes, but they will forgive us if we show up in business clothes." As Miss Walker walked out of the office, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. This was her chance to make a lasting impression on Mr. Ansson and secure a wealthy future for herself.
They arrived at the Sapphire club, the bouncer let them pass without any delay when they said they were on the guest list of Mr Ansson. As they entered the club, they were greeted by the pulsating music and the dazzling lights. They made their way to the VIP room. Mr Smith looked in his phone and said: " I have to apologize for the absence of Mr. and Mrs. Ansson. They are stuck in a traffic jam and will be delayed somewhat. Let's get a drink and make ourselves at home. Two Club Sapphire coctails please." The waitress, who happened to be the cousin of Silvie, nodded and brought their drinks while they watched the other guests entertain themselves.
Twenty minutes later Mr Smith said to Miss Walker: "Sven and Gea Ansson are here. At that time Sophie, Pete and Sylvie entered the VIP-lounge. However, something was off about them They did not look like they were enjoying themselves, but they all had a determined look on their faces "No, we are not Sven and Gea Ansson. We are Vengeance," Pete said, his voice cold and menacing. But Miss Walker did not respond, she just stared, completely dazed out. Her drink has been spiked. She did not resist at all when they escorted her out of the club.
"Miss Walker. Do you know where you are?"
Miss Walker woke up in a daze. Her head was pounding and her vision was blurred. She tried to move, but her arms and legs felt heavy. Panic set in as she realized she couldn't move or speak. She tried to scream, but only muffled noises came out.
As her senses slowly came back to her, she could hear faint voices around her. She strained to listen, hoping to gather some clues as to where she was and how she got there.
"Is she awake yet?" a man's voice asked.
"Not yet, but she will be soon," a woman's voice responded.
Miss Walker recognized the voices as Mr. Smith and Sophia, her colleagues at work. She was confused as to why they were here and why she couldn't move. She tried to recall the events leading up to this moment, but her memory was hazy.
Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted and carried. She tried to struggle, but her body was still too weak. She could hear the sound of footsteps and the creaking of a door. Then she was thrown onto a cold, hard surface.
As her vision began to clear, she could make out the figures of Mr. Smith, Sophia, and at the back Pete and Sylvie. Miss Walker's heart began to race as she realized she was in some kind of plot against her.
'Welcome, Miss Walker," Mr. Smith said, his voice cold and menacing. "We have been waiting for you to come to your senses again"
Miss Walker tried to plead for mercy, but several layers of duct tape tightly wrapped over her mouth prevented her from speaking. She looked around frantically, searching for an escape route. That's when she noticed a large, menacing machine in the corner.
It was a crucifying machine, more or less similar to the one in the park where a couple of months ago her former employee Mia chose the fate of death. Miss Walker's heart sank as she realized what was about to happen to her.
"Please, let me go!" she wanted to beg, tears streaming down her face. "Do you know where we are? This is the new crucifying machine on the roof of the Western Trade building," explained Sylvie. "You could see it in the distance from our office. We will enjoy the view when we look out of the window, and the dropping of stress level when you are watching us from up here. Now it is time to do what has to be done. Let's go for it." The four persons around her grabbed Miss Walker's limbs and carried her to the crucifying machine. Sophia took a mask from her purse, some kind of leather BDSM mask. She put it over Miss Walker's head. "Look, how ugly you are now. Your face now depicts your true nature. How fitting. It will also prevent people from seeing that you are gagged, so no one will suspect foul play. And no, when they take off your corpse from the cross, the police will not start an investigation. You are not the first one being gagged on the cross, several masochists have crucified themselves in the past with gags, chastity belts, nipple clamps and whatever crazy devices they could think of. Now, have fun, Miss Walker. Overlook the office from here, it is down there only 3 buildings away." With that said, they pushed her wrists and ankles against the automatic restraints.
Miss Walker struggled for what her drugged body was worth and tried to scream hell through her gag, but after a short fight, the restraints clicked shut around her limbs.
She felt a sudden, sharp pain as something long and pointed pierced her ankles, followed by another jolting agony as two more nails tore through her wrists.
The air was filled with the sound of creaking metal and the ominous rattling of chains. Miss Walker tried to struggle against her restraints, but it was no use. She was trapped, at the mercy of a emotionless machine that had put her in this horrifying situation. Slowly she was raised higher and higher in the air, fully exposed to the autums winds.
It was the most agonizing feeling she had ever experienced. Every fiber of her being screamed in protest as the weight of her own body pulled on the nails, tearing through her flesh and grinding against her bones. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, stinging her eyes as she struggled to catch her breath. The air around her was thick with the smell of blood and the sound of her own labored breathing.
While was is being crucified, the group of four watched and laughed, enjoying their revenge. As she hang there, Miss Walker struggled and tried to scream through her gag, but no one could hear her over the noise of the city. After a while, they decided to leave her there to die and walk away, satisfied with their revenge.
As the night went on, Miss Walker's struggles became weaker and weaker, and the pain in her arms and legs became unbearable. She prayed for someone to save her, but no one came to the rescue. The occasional visitor at the roof could not understand anything from her muffled pleas that escaped her gagged mouth. As the sun began to rise, she knew that her time was running out.
The next morning the story went quickly around the office, that Miss Walker had crucified herself on top of the Western Trade building. Many sighs of relief were heard, alongside remarks like: "she deserved that."
Before lunchtime was over, someone managed to bring binoculars to the office. Everybody wanted to borrow that binoculars, just to watch her suffer.
Bets were placed on what hour she would die, although it was after the second day uncertain if she was still alive and just too weak to move. And the roof of the Western Trade building became a popular meeting point for the office personel, often bringing up memories to the horrible boss Miss Walker.
The crucifying machine part 2: revenge on Miss Walker
No one who worked at Mr Walker her department was content. Over the past 8 months, five people in the department have quit their job. Two more were sacked by Miss Walker. It was said that she has driven one employee, Mia to commit suicide. And the list of complaints about her leadership and behaviour was so long that the general manager, Mr Smith, could not ignore it any more.
As Miss Walker entered the manager's office, she could sense the tension in the air. Mister Smith, the manager, sat behind his desk, looking stern and serious. Without skipping a beat, he began, "Miss Walker, we've been receiving numerous complaints about your behavior towards your colleagues. Your management style is causing unrest in the office. This cannot continue."
Miss Walker smirked confidently, knowing she held all the cards in this situation. She leaned in closer to the manager,took her phone and showed the recording that she had made at last year’s halloween office party. Mister Smith turned pale and muttered: ‘What…how…I don’t..” Miss Walker smiled and whispered, "You know that you got very drunk at the halloween party? That’s because I spiked your drink and took you with me to arrange a guarantee. I think your career is through the drain if people know you are assfucked by a big fat prostitute with a rubber strapon while wearing woman’s underwear. Not to mention your marriage. You wouldn't want certain... sensitive information to be leaked, would you?"
Mr Smith tried to look stern. "You would not dare. I will press criminal charges against you." This made Miss Walker start laughing out loud. "What evidence do you have? Good luck. By the way, I know your daughter is attending Blackwick High. Is this her, am I right?" She showed a picture on her phone again. "I know a certain guy, as ruthless as stupid. He absolutely adores me. Of course, I am just so adorable. I am sure that, for the promise of something romantic, he immediately will make her have an accident if I ask him."
The manager's expression changed as he realized what she was insinuating. He hesitated for a moment before sighing heavily and saying, "What do you want, Miss Walker?"
A triumphant smile spread across Miss Walker's face as she laid out her demands for a significant raise and a recommendation for promotion. Reluctantly, Mr Smith said: “Considering the situation, the complaints against you have no fundamental ground. I will arrange a salary raise of 10%, starting next month.” Mis Walker interrupted him with a teasing tone in her voice. “Make it 50% and we have a deal. At least for now. I expect promotion before the end of the year.”
You should have seen the colour of the face of Mr Smith when he agreed to the proposal.
Mister Smith had always prided himself on his professionalism and integrity. As the general manager of one of the most successful companies in its branch in Europe he had worked hard to earn the respect of his colleagues and employees. However, all of that was about to be threatened by the actions of Miss Walker. Smith had initially welcomed her with open arms, impressed by her skills and determination. But little did he know about what employing her as head of her department would ultimately lead to.
Meanwhile, in another part of the office, Fiona, one of the employees, was struggling to cope with the stress of her job. She had been constantly bullied and harassed by Miss Walker since the day she joined the company. Fiona was a hardworking and dedicated employee, but Miss Walker seemed to have a personal vendetta against her, even more than the other workers in the office. She had even gone to the extent of sabotaging Fiona's work and taking credit for her ideas. Two weeks before she had filed a well documented complaint against Miss Walker. Nothing had happened.
Smiling Miss Walker entered the office, and went straight to the desk of Fiona. She leaned on the corner of the desk and had this look in her eyes that could only spell trouble. With a teeming voice she said: "This report that you should make, you have not yet finished it. I needed it at lunchtime, and now it is 4 o'clock." "I am sorry Miss Walker, apologized Fiona. "I needed the data for this report yesterday at latest to finish it in time, and you delivered it only at 10 this morning." "You lazy zombie!" shouted Miss Walker. "You can't tell me that you need so much time to finish a lousy report. Do you have the brain of an ant? If you want any chance of keeping your job, you have the report at my desk at 9 in the morning, you incompetent bitch! And no, I don't care if you have to work all night to get it finished. Don't expect to get overtime for it, consider it a lesson in working more efficiently!" Laughing hysterically, Miss walker left the office. Fiona was about to start crying. Pete and Silvie, the two other employees in the office, were stunned. "I have never seen anyone be so utterly MEAN...." said Silvie. "We all filed complaints about her, and nothing happened. We should immediately go to the general manager and complain about her, all three of us."
Mister Smith sat in his chair with a defeated expression on his face. He looked Fiona, Pete and Sylvie in the eyes, seemingly defeated. "I will be honest with you. Just one hour ago, I tried to sack her. I found out that she is too dangerous for that. She will destroy anything that gets in her way. Even at the cost of someone's life." Fiona answered: "I think you are telling the truth. You looked so pale when we entered here, that meeting with her must have scared you to death. And I believe you when you say she does not care for another person's life. Remember Mia? Last spring she chose to crucify herself after months of enduring the tyranny of Miss Walker. And she boasted about it again and again, how Mia deserved what she did to herself. I can confirm that because I had contact with Mia's good friend Jenny. She said that Mia told that she really suffered from the stress that Miss Walker gave her, and that it must have been the reason why she chose suicide." The room was filled with a heavy sense of dread. They all knew that Miss Walker was a difficult person to work with, but they had never imagined what she was really capable of.
Pete said: "So we all have to find a way to stop her. I don't know how, but if there is no other choise, we have to be prepared to be as ruthless as Miss Walker, and do what we have to do. Let's all think about a solution, and come together friday evening to discuss how we can stop her." The others nodded in agreement. They knew that Miss Walker had to be stopped before she caused any more harm. It was clear that they would have to take matters into their own hands. 'Let's all think about a solution, and come together Friday evening to discuss how we can stop her," Pete suggested.
All agreed. And they did come up with a plan of vengeance so mean, that the average dictator would be proud of it.
The next wednesday, just before the end of the workday, Mister Smith called Miss Walker. He said: "I just received an email from our potential client, the Ansson group. They have expressed interest in meeting with us to discuss a multi-million dollar deal. Do you know Mr Sven Ansson? He happens to be in town." Miss Walker had no clue. He handed her a printout from the fabricated mail. "Mr Ansson is the founder of the Ansson group. The Ansson group have the potential to become our biggest customer in Scandinavia, if we can agree on this multi million dollar deal. I know he is not only single and handsome, but also filthy rich." Miss Walker's eyes twinkled. The smell of money attracted her like a decaying corpse attracts vultures.
"He and his sister Gea happen to be in town. They invited me to meet them in the VIP-lounge of the Sapphyre Club. He asked, to make her sister feel more at comfort in otherwise mostly men's company, to bring my wife with me. The fact is, my wife hates clubs. So I was thinking to bring you instead. Do you have some time this evening?"
This news made Miss Walker her heart skip a beat. If she could bait someone like Sven Ansson, she could potentially marry a fortune. A divorce later on, or maybe even better, an unfortunate accident, would make that fortune hers. She said: "I was planning to go out for dinner tonight, but a meeting with such an important person is reason enough to change my plans. I will be there," Miss Walker said while trying to contain her excitement, her mind already planning her outfit for the evening
Satisfied that she took the bait, Mr Smith said: "Good. In one hour we have to be there. And I know that's too short time to change clothes, but they will forgive us if we show up in business clothes." As Miss Walker walked out of the office, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. This was her chance to make a lasting impression on Mr. Ansson and secure a wealthy future for herself.
They arrived at the Sapphire club, the bouncer let them pass without any delay when they said they were on the guest list of Mr Ansson. As they entered the club, they were greeted by the pulsating music and the dazzling lights. They made their way to the VIP room. Mr Smith looked in his phone and said: " I have to apologize for the absence of Mr. and Mrs. Ansson. They are stuck in a traffic jam and will be delayed somewhat. Let's get a drink and make ourselves at home. Two Club Sapphire coctails please." The waitress, who happened to be the cousin of Silvie, nodded and brought their drinks while they watched the other guests entertain themselves.
Twenty minutes later Mr Smith said to Miss Walker: "Sven and Gea Ansson are here. At that time Sophie, Pete and Sylvie entered the VIP-lounge. However, something was off about them They did not look like they were enjoying themselves, but they all had a determined look on their faces "No, we are not Sven and Gea Ansson. We are Vengeance," Pete said, his voice cold and menacing. But Miss Walker did not respond, she just stared, completely dazed out. Her drink has been spiked. She did not resist at all when they escorted her out of the club.
"Miss Walker. Do you know where you are?"
Miss Walker woke up in a daze. Her head was pounding and her vision was blurred. She tried to move, but her arms and legs felt heavy. Panic set in as she realized she couldn't move or speak. She tried to scream, but only muffled noises came out.
As her senses slowly came back to her, she could hear faint voices around her. She strained to listen, hoping to gather some clues as to where she was and how she got there.
"Is she awake yet?" a man's voice asked.
"Not yet, but she will be soon," a woman's voice responded.
Miss Walker recognized the voices as Mr. Smith and Sophia, her colleagues at work. She was confused as to why they were here and why she couldn't move. She tried to recall the events leading up to this moment, but her memory was hazy.
Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted and carried. She tried to struggle, but her body was still too weak. She could hear the sound of footsteps and the creaking of a door. Then she was thrown onto a cold, hard surface.
As her vision began to clear, she could make out the figures of Mr. Smith, Sophia, and at the back Pete and Sylvie. Miss Walker's heart began to race as she realized she was in some kind of plot against her.
'Welcome, Miss Walker," Mr. Smith said, his voice cold and menacing. "We have been waiting for you to come to your senses again"
Miss Walker tried to plead for mercy, but several layers of duct tape tightly wrapped over her mouth prevented her from speaking. She looked around frantically, searching for an escape route. That's when she noticed a large, menacing machine in the corner.
It was a crucifying machine, more or less similar to the one in the park where a couple of months ago her former employee Mia chose the fate of death. Miss Walker's heart sank as she realized what was about to happen to her.
"Please, let me go!" she wanted to beg, tears streaming down her face. "Do you know where we are? This is the new crucifying machine on the roof of the Western Trade building," explained Sylvie. "You could see it in the distance from our office. We will enjoy the view when we look out of the window, and the dropping of stress level when you are watching us from up here. Now it is time to do what has to be done. Let's go for it." The four persons around her grabbed Miss Walker's limbs and carried her to the crucifying machine. Sophia took a mask from her purse, some kind of leather BDSM mask. She put it over Miss Walker's head. "Look, how ugly you are now. Your face now depicts your true nature. How fitting. It will also prevent people from seeing that you are gagged, so no one will suspect foul play. And no, when they take off your corpse from the cross, the police will not start an investigation. You are not the first one being gagged on the cross, several masochists have crucified themselves in the past with gags, chastity belts, nipple clamps and whatever crazy devices they could think of. Now, have fun, Miss Walker. Overlook the office from here, it is down there only 3 buildings away." With that said, they pushed her wrists and ankles against the automatic restraints.
Miss Walker struggled for what her drugged body was worth and tried to scream hell through her gag, but after a short fight, the restraints clicked shut around her limbs.
She felt a sudden, sharp pain as something long and pointed pierced her ankles, followed by another jolting agony as two more nails tore through her wrists.
The air was filled with the sound of creaking metal and the ominous rattling of chains. Miss Walker tried to struggle against her restraints, but it was no use. She was trapped, at the mercy of a emotionless machine that had put her in this horrifying situation. Slowly she was raised higher and higher in the air, fully exposed to the autums winds.
It was the most agonizing feeling she had ever experienced. Every fiber of her being screamed in protest as the weight of her own body pulled on the nails, tearing through her flesh and grinding against her bones. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, stinging her eyes as she struggled to catch her breath. The air around her was thick with the smell of blood and the sound of her own labored breathing.
While was is being crucified, the group of four watched and laughed, enjoying their revenge. As she hang there, Miss Walker struggled and tried to scream through her gag, but no one could hear her over the noise of the city. After a while, they decided to leave her there to die and walk away, satisfied with their revenge.
As the night went on, Miss Walker's struggles became weaker and weaker, and the pain in her arms and legs became unbearable. She prayed for someone to save her, but no one came to the rescue. The occasional visitor at the roof could not understand anything from her muffled pleas that escaped her gagged mouth. As the sun began to rise, she knew that her time was running out.
The next morning the story went quickly around the office, that Miss Walker had crucified herself on top of the Western Trade building. Many sighs of relief were heard, alongside remarks like: "she deserved that."
Before lunchtime was over, someone managed to bring binoculars to the office. Everybody wanted to borrow that binoculars, just to watch her suffer.
Bets were placed on what hour she would die, although it was after the second day uncertain if she was still alive and just too weak to move. And the roof of the Western Trade building became a popular meeting point for the office personel, often bringing up memories to the horrible boss Miss Walker.
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thecuriousone
Governor
We were involved in a science project where automatic drones were used to spot wildlife. If the test runs in the appalacian mountains would be succesful, the drones would be used in Tanzania to spot rhinos. On the second day we lost one drone. Thanks to the GPS-tracker we were able to recover it, but it took four days before we were able to get it out of the treetop. There were bullet holes in the drone, indicating foul play. Next day we reviewed the recovered footage. I was just getting coffee when I heard them shouting to come quickly and take a look. They played back the footage and it unmistakenly showed a woman on a cross.
We alerted the police, but when they got there, she was dead for two days and the crows were picking her body.
I will think twice before going on a hike in the appalachians from now on.
We alerted the police, but when they got there, she was dead for two days and the crows were picking her body.
I will think twice before going on a hike in the appalachians from now on.
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Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
More evidence that a tortured woman doesn’t need to be naked to be incredibly sexy in her suffering!
Mmmmm poor miss Loinclothslave!
thecuriousone
Governor
Clothed can be just as sexy as naked