• Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.

Strong And Willing

Go to CruxDreams.com
The Strong and Willing XIII

The day of Decision: he will come!

Earlier as normal I was in my art-room, so you will call this, and made the necessary preparations for the seance. The large cross firmly fixed at the wall, the ribbons spread on table. Perhaps a perfume? I will ask him. The emergency-door I collided with tape so that my landlord nothing could hear. Eventually I turn the radio.
The sedile was made for several heights, but as start I gambled the right place. He is fixed with two large butterfly nuts so that a possibly different position ought not to give much time.

I wait.

Then he rings the bell. I opened and saw a man with other clothes than before. He must be the same, when he put off his hat I can better see. Indeed, he was, but immediately, I remarked, followed by another person behind him, a young woman!
Not appointed, no agreement to have an onlooker in my room or must she be crucified? This person came in and I closed the door and arranged the dark curtains.

What for accompany do you have?

My watcher, he answered. She will play a role in the drama.
I had no power to interrogate her age, that could be unseemly.
I had to accept or there is no crucifixion. To be or not to be, that is the question. I did not make a question: all efforts, all desires and all gratification for nothing?

All parts are set up, I said, he looked into and nodded.

The woman undressed herself till a blank thin dress, she nudely thereunder, I did not watch, so indiscreetly, but saw enough. Around her neck a rather thick cord on which she fastened a doll. Poupée.jpg
He went to the corner and put off his clothes. His underpants stayed, then he lapped a black thin towel. Particular, I thought, white is in all centuries usual by artists! He came to the cross. I measured, the place of the sedile could be good.

I fixed the leather ribbon around his wrists and ankles, that lasted some minutes. They must be arranged perfectly to avoid unwanted pain.

Then the "crucial" moment: to ascent the cross. What will be beat his heart, at least for me. I looked, saw his face with looming pain. Of course the wrists firstly, then the shoulders. The stronger body-muscles come later.
I heard his throat, growling sounds, not crying. Heavily breathing, than normally, he began automatically to dance. His legs full black hairiness were in a spastic contraction. His head went left and right, high and low, he did not see around but looked to himself. That is the true work on the cross: stay with yourself and forget the world. It is the most individual activity ever, a soulable sacrifice.

But now the woman! She initial stayed on a certain distance, then stalked to the cross and stand before him. Her head was on the level of his breast. Suddenly she pressed her cheek against his body and began softly to cry. What a performance! Then her thin arms rubbed his flank, high an low, she commiserated his fate. Is this thru or does she play? If so, she is a good actress! Great future when the poor man is dead.

Twenty minutes were gone. I walked to him, had to stop behind the second and asked him for more? What would he answer? He kept silent but after some minutes he commanded to release him. In total this 25 minutes, not bad for the first and unknown time.

Both went to the corner, he cleaned himself from the sweet, she rubbed his back. She put her doll in the handbag and toke her coat. He already was dressed and suspired deeply.

A drink?

No time, he answered, we have our duties.

Than he gave me the money under cover.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
The Strong and Willing XIV

Happy I am, happy for the future to have recovered my trail in cruxlove. What a people I will met, what build up an extraordinary experience!
All gives my life a reason to investigate, explore, fulfill and satisfy. Perhaps I will famous.

But firstly to get rid of the shopping bag with personal clothes and so on from the damned suicide committer in my home. How to do so that the bag never will be discovered? The best way is to jump him in the river. But if the bag drives to the wall I am lost. Thus to make the weight more with stones. My idea is the clothes to besmirch with cow manure to protect them against the sharp nose of sleuths.
Therefore I drove to a farmer for a bucket shit. He did not ask for what, thus I said for fertilize the garden. He did not ask for money, thus I gave him a coin. I said goodbye but he kept silence.
Not such stuff in my home! I drove to the bridge but a certain distance from him because some ramblers sleep there under.
It was already evening and rather dark. I shut the shit on the clothes and shuttle all for better penetration. Then I closed the bag. But I had another bag by me and I will say why. When I walk above on the bridge with two bags on one arm, a driver will not see that they are both. When I fling one into the water someone can see a falling black object but not from me because I have after all a bag. So simple it is, to avoid witnesses and don't say I am not genial!

At home I heard that the investigation to the paprika murder was cancelled. That could be a trick to give the "murder" a feeling of security addition to give him the possibility for another crime. It is not the interest of the people but from the instance of police that counts. Never forget such!

Next morning I went to my artroom to make some objects from clay. You now already that I will impersonate as sculptor and that my cross is hidden for him. Shall I accept my cross for 40 minutes? I could have need for it after a rather long time but I will see when I am there.

But what a surprise to see and find a cover! How is that possible, who knows that I live there?
I sit and open the envelope. Then my heart pounds.

Sir,

It was an splendid performing in your studio. Also the girl has had a jolly day.
But I regret to indicate your mistake to organize this crucifixion, rather nude, in cooperation with a girl which is not adult. You did not ask her age, you simply began to work.
She and I are witnesses and you are suspect from terrible abuse. That means a prospect for many years in jail and many psychiatric clinics. Congratulations!


What a sarcasm, I thought, and my fury grew.

But we have a good heart for your specific hobby. Of course we consider it as an illness but who is sane in this world? Also we are insane to propose an arrangement for withdraw our accusations.
We ask you a first period of 5000,-

When you agree, lay a pincers on the windowsill so that we can make an appointment to receive the money.

Finally:
As proof some photographs.

Greetings,


I gasped, with a insane heart and my arms vibrated.
Is that my future to be blackmailed and to become poor? To sleep under the bridge as them?
When I go to the police I will about confess to have crucified that idiot.
When I not go, he can go and I am lost too.
Knows he my address? He could have been followed me.

Then I opened the photo's and my scare increased. I saw him on the cross, me to have fixed him, me with cross and ropes. If that is not a right dossier for the prosecutor?
But how could have been made the shots?
Who?

Of course, the girl!
But where is he camera then?

I think for a minute and got the contrary eureka:

The girl in her spionage-puppet! The glass eyes were lenses. She made them premeditatedly.
 
Hum, indeed that it was a long time ago that we couldn't read the following of this story , but "Tout vient à point Qui sait attendre" (All is coming for those who know to wait ):D;)
...and it's an inventive story : I like that !:rolleyes:
 
The Strong and Willing XV

Day after day I thought on that horrible intrusion in my personal life by blackmail. Never I can rest, always turbulence.
Then I remembered to get rid of the bag from the dead by crucifixion in my home, although there was never an investigation by police but always it could happen! The so called Paprika-murder also never was found.
Thus it is better to threw that bag into the river.

What will he do to get the money? Make an appointment under a dark bridge, so dangerous for many ramblers who sleep there? Or in a park to hand, better to change a briefcase like spies do? Yes, I saw many films, you understand! Or lay the packet on/under a secret place so that I never encounter the receiver? What must I invent more?

Slowly I got the conception that when I pay once there will be more requirements which never end. Then I get a slave on my self-willed cross... The solution is to murder him, there is no other exit.

But to shoot him is a great rick, it causes an extensive second police investigation and perhaps I will be targeted again. The best way, since the famous antiques is to poison. Who knows how many are envenomed silently, discretely and peremptorily: Ceasar Claudius, Napoleon and Hitler by his court physician. I must design a play.

When I see him I can propose a drink. A bottle beer which I have opened before and provided with the deadly stuff. Then it is to be care not to drink the false bottle by give it a secret mark. Or I give him a bottle wine for his home.

But what for poison? I can not buy this, that would give me a great risk. Or I steal somewhere. But I have an uncle who is farmer many miles way who possesses pesticides. That means a half day to drive and another to come back. I can talk about my garden which contains many pests which destroy my life... He likes me, no problem.

Then I got the splendidest idea ever: I do not fling away aforesaid bag but give it him! He never knows who was the former owner and if the bag will be found near his dead body the police find most interesting stuff.

I did what I was intend and made the preparations for a bottle. That was a dangerous work, I may not inhale that poison.
One bottle needed, all windows open. Perfect workmanship so that the chance for discovery is null.

That I waited, day after day, for a telephone or a mail or a letter in my studio.

The last possibility happened, a nice letter in my studio.

I open and read his demand.

A place outside the town by a small forest. Rather dangerous to be alone there but to be murdered is unlikely when he will not loose his found gold mine!

Again a nice idea: I let in the bag some clothes from the dead. They come in his house and when ever found he is, dead or alive, suspect for long time!

Forêt.jpg

The hot day arrived, I drove to the end of the town and saw the place who he had described. I wait and wait, I saw nothing.
Suddenly a small girl tapped on my car, I saw her, the same girl as before!
I opened the door and placed the precious bag on the street.
She said nothing and walked back.
Where did she go?
Perhaps behind the curve she walked into the bush where my blackmailer waited?

Silence, I did not hear noises.

Then I went to home, made a large detour not to be followed.
 
I don't know, maybe its just me, but it looks as if she has a lot more suffering to do before she is finally put out of her misery.
 
The Strong and Willing XV

Day after day I thought on that horrible intrusion in my personal life by blackmail. Never I can rest, always turbulence.
Then I remembered to get rid of the bag from the dead by crucifixion in my home, although there was never an investigation by police but always it could happen! The so called Paprika-murder also never was found.
Thus it is better to threw that bag into the river.

What will he do to get the money? Make an appointment under a dark bridge, so dangerous for many ramblers who sleep there? Or in a park to hand, better to change a briefcase like spies do? Yes, I saw many films, you understand! Or lay the packet on/under a secret place so that I never encounter the receiver? What must I invent more?

Slowly I got the conception that when I pay once there will be more requirements which never end. Then I get a slave on my self-willed cross... The solution is to murder him, there is no other exit.

But to shoot him is a great rick, it causes an extensive second police investigation and perhaps I will be targeted again. The best way, since the famous antiques is to poison. Who knows how many are envenomed silently, discretely and peremptorily: Ceasar Claudius, Napoleon and Hitler by his court physician. I must design a play.

When I see him I can propose a drink. A bottle beer which I have opened before and provided with the deadly stuff. Then it is to be care not to drink the false bottle by give it a secret mark. Or I give him a bottle wine for his home.

But what for poison? I can not buy this, that would give me a great risk. Or I steal somewhere. But I have an uncle who is farmer many miles way who possesses pesticides. That means a half day to drive and another to come back. I can talk about my garden which contains many pests which destroy my life... He likes me, no problem.

Then I got the splendidest idea ever: I do not fling away aforesaid bag but give it him! He never knows who was the former owner and if the bag will be found near his dead body the police find most interesting stuff.

I did what I was intend and made the preparations for a bottle. That was a dangerous work, I may not inhale that poison.
One bottle needed, all windows open. Perfect workmanship so that the chance for discovery is null.

That I waited, day after day, for a telephone or a mail or a letter in my studio.

The last possibility happened, a nice letter in my studio.

I open and read his demand.

A place outside the town by a small forest. Rather dangerous to be alone there but to be murdered is unlikely when he will not loose his found gold mine!

Again a nice idea: I let in the bag some clothes from the dead. They come in his house and when ever found he is, dead or alive, suspect for long time!

View attachment 426019

The hot day arrived, I drove to the end of the town and saw the place who he had described. I wait and wait, I saw nothing.
Suddenly a small girl tapped on my car, I saw her, the same girl as before!
I opened the door and placed the precious bag on the street.
She said nothing and walked back.
Where did she go?
Perhaps behind the curve she walked into the bush where my blackmailer waited?

Silence, I did not hear noises.

Then I went to home, made a large detour not to be followed.

Is this story finished?
 
Ohhh, how long ago!

At that night oct. 2016 I made a mistake and my finished chapter XVI disappeared before control, no recovery possible more.
Since then I make back-ups of parts text.
That means that to repeat myself is not more the original, my fate, thus I stopped.
 
Back
Top Bottom