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Used Upon the Cross

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The desert sun beat down upon Actaea’s weak, naked body. Her tongue was dry as sandpaper. Her arms were stretched out to either side, her wrists impaled by thick metal spikes. Her feet were skewered on either side of the post, spreading her knees and leaving nothing hidden. She had been nailed to this cross and left for dead, her most intimate parts exposed in a vulgar display. Another day and she would die from thirst. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon when a man came out of the darkness. He was a tall, thickly-muscled man. He wore a pair of dirty trousers, and he had several scars on his bare chest. His muscular body glistened with sweat. Actaea watched him approach her, a look of curiosity and hope in her eyes as he stopped near the foot of the cross. Her hopes were dashed by his words.

"What do we have here?" he said. "A beautiful woman on a cross...? What a waste!"

He walked around the perimeter of Actaea's body, examining her in great detail. Actaea's heart began to beat faster. She felt a rush of humiliation and disgust as he licked his lips. This was no rescue…

It had happened a few times before. In the past two days, men had taken advantage of Actaea’s slowly dying body. She felt disgusting. Unclean, beyond just the sweaty grime covering her skin. She didn't care what happened to her any more. All she wanted to do was die. So she just hung there and let it happen to her. It seemed easier that way.

"I thought you'd have died by now," he said in a deep, gruff voice, "You must be stronger than you look." He stepped closer, reaching out toward Actaea’s chest. Her heart leaped as he touched her breasts. She could smell his hot sweat and musky body odor. Suddenly, Actaea felt the urge to resist. She didn't want this. She wanted this man away from her! She didn't want to be violated again!

"This is a nice little body," he said, running his hand along her nakedness. Actaea's mouth fell open in panic. She tried to scream, but all that came out of her dry mouth was a faint rasping sound. Even if she had been able to speak, nobody would have come to help her. She was a common criminal. Nobody would care what happened to her. And she was so close to dying, there was nothing anyone could do to save her. She didn't want to die... but then, neither did she want to go on living like this, naked and humiliated in a foreign land, so close to death and yet so far away from it.

"Please, sir...," she began, trying to speak through a dry throat, "Leave me alone. Please... let me die... in peace..."

The man laughed at her feeble protestations. "You're in no position to make demands, whore. I'm not letting you die until you've satisfied my hunger."

She was still feebly failing to plead for her life when the man began to pull at her legs, yanking them apart. With each agonizing movement, her flesh ripped and tore against the nails that held her in place. The man laughed at her, enjoying every minute of her misery. He took his time, enjoying the view of Actaea's naked body while his fingers worked their way inside of her. The humiliation was more excruciating than the pain. Actaea wanted to fight back, to struggle and kick, but her hands and feet were nailed to her cross, unable to move. She could barely lift her head, let alone fight. The only thing she could do was watch this brute ravage her body and pray that it was all over soon.

When the man finally pulled his hand away from between her legs, Actaea's mind almost exploded with relief. But there was still more to come.

"Well," the man said, "I think I know what I'm going to do with you now." He grinned. He was already undressing, pulling his pants off. Actaea watched, aghast. His cock sprang up into view. It hung limp at first, but then started to grow, hardening as he stared at her, sizing her up. He took hold of Actaea's head and forced her mouth onto his member. A scream welled up inside her as he thrust himself into her mouth, forcing her jaw wide open with one powerful tug. Actaea tried to pull away but could not escape from the man's grip on her head. The nails in her wrists and feet prevented her from getting away from him. Still, she struggled, fighting as much as her weak body would allow her.

Actaea wept, tears streaking down her grimy, sweaty face. Her body shook with sobs as the man kept forcing his cock further and further down her throat. Her throat felt raw. She gasped for air, struggling for each breath. Finally, when he could go no farther, he released Actaea. She hung limply from her nails, sobbing and coughing.

The man reached up and took hold of Actaea's hair, forcing her head back against her cross. He pulled himself closer to her, until their bodies were pressed against each other. She shuddered with revulsion at the feel of his hard, wet cock against her belly. The brute moved himself into position. His hands moved over her body, exploring every inch of her skin. Then, with one last glance at Actaea, he slammed himself inside of her.

Actaea screamed and wailed as he violated her. She felt sick to her stomach. She tried desperately to pull her legs away from his invading cock, but she was completely immobilized by the nails in her wrists and ankles. He began thrusting harder and faster, slamming himself into her and grinding her hips with every brutal push. With each forceful motion, Actaea moaned. And then, the worst part of it all started. The man grunted, moaning with pleasure and pushing deeper into Actaea's body, until he finally came deep inside of her. Actaea sobbed in pain and humiliation as she felt him unload into her, feeling his hot sperm shoot through her insides like a raging river. When he was finished, the man pulled his spent cock out of her body.

The man wiped the sweat from his brow. "Not bad for a criminal, slut," he said, wiping his member on her naked body. He turned around to leave, leaving Actaea there on her cross, still hanging there, cum-soaked, unable to move.

Actaea hung there in her agony and humiliation, wishing she were dead already. "Please," she whimpered, "End me, please!" She wanted him to just kill her so she wouldn't have to endure this any longer. “Take my life! End my suffering!”

The man laughed at her, then walked away, whistling as he made his way toward the next town. The man left her hanging on that cross beside the road. Another time, maybe even later that night, a band of robbers or bandits would find her and use her again. Then, if the gods were merciful, she might be dead before the sun rose the next morning.
 
The desert sun beat down upon Actaea’s weak, naked body. Her tongue was dry as sandpaper. Her arms were stretched out to either side, her wrists impaled by thick metal spikes. Her feet were skewered on either side of the post, spreading her knees and leaving nothing hidden. She had been nailed to this cross and left for dead, her most intimate parts exposed in a vulgar display. Another day and she would die from thirst. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon when a man came out of the darkness. He was a tall, thickly-muscled man. He wore a pair of dirty trousers, and he had several scars on his bare chest. His muscular body glistened with sweat. Actaea watched him approach her, a look of curiosity and hope in her eyes as he stopped near the foot of the cross. Her hopes were dashed by his words.

"What do we have here?" he said. "A beautiful woman on a cross...? What a waste!"

He walked around the perimeter of Actaea's body, examining her in great detail. Actaea's heart began to beat faster. She felt a rush of humiliation and disgust as he licked his lips. This was no rescue…

It had happened a few times before. In the past two days, men had taken advantage of Actaea’s slowly dying body. She felt disgusting. Unclean, beyond just the sweaty grime covering her skin. She didn't care what happened to her any more. All she wanted to do was die. So she just hung there and let it happen to her. It seemed easier that way.

"I thought you'd have died by now," he said in a deep, gruff voice, "You must be stronger than you look." He stepped closer, reaching out toward Actaea’s chest. Her heart leaped as he touched her breasts. She could smell his hot sweat and musky body odor. Suddenly, Actaea felt the urge to resist. She didn't want this. She wanted this man away from her! She didn't want to be violated again!

"This is a nice little body," he said, running his hand along her nakedness. Actaea's mouth fell open in panic. She tried to scream, but all that came out of her dry mouth was a faint rasping sound. Even if she had been able to speak, nobody would have come to help her. She was a common criminal. Nobody would care what happened to her. And she was so close to dying, there was nothing anyone could do to save her. She didn't want to die... but then, neither did she want to go on living like this, naked and humiliated in a foreign land, so close to death and yet so far away from it.

"Please, sir...," she began, trying to speak through a dry throat, "Leave me alone. Please... let me die... in peace..."

The man laughed at her feeble protestations. "You're in no position to make demands, whore. I'm not letting you die until you've satisfied my hunger."

She was still feebly failing to plead for her life when the man began to pull at her legs, yanking them apart. With each agonizing movement, her flesh ripped and tore against the nails that held her in place. The man laughed at her, enjoying every minute of her misery. He took his time, enjoying the view of Actaea's naked body while his fingers worked their way inside of her. The humiliation was more excruciating than the pain. Actaea wanted to fight back, to struggle and kick, but her hands and feet were nailed to her cross, unable to move. She could barely lift her head, let alone fight. The only thing she could do was watch this brute ravage her body and pray that it was all over soon.

When the man finally pulled his hand away from between her legs, Actaea's mind almost exploded with relief. But there was still more to come.

"Well," the man said, "I think I know what I'm going to do with you now." He grinned. He was already undressing, pulling his pants off. Actaea watched, aghast. His cock sprang up into view. It hung limp at first, but then started to grow, hardening as he stared at her, sizing her up. He took hold of Actaea's head and forced her mouth onto his member. A scream welled up inside her as he thrust himself into her mouth, forcing her jaw wide open with one powerful tug. Actaea tried to pull away but could not escape from the man's grip on her head. The nails in her wrists and feet prevented her from getting away from him. Still, she struggled, fighting as much as her weak body would allow her.

Actaea wept, tears streaking down her grimy, sweaty face. Her body shook with sobs as the man kept forcing his cock further and further down her throat. Her throat felt raw. She gasped for air, struggling for each breath. Finally, when he could go no farther, he released Actaea. She hung limply from her nails, sobbing and coughing.

The man reached up and took hold of Actaea's hair, forcing her head back against her cross. He pulled himself closer to her, until their bodies were pressed against each other. She shuddered with revulsion at the feel of his hard, wet cock against her belly. The brute moved himself into position. His hands moved over her body, exploring every inch of her skin. Then, with one last glance at Actaea, he slammed himself inside of her.

Actaea screamed and wailed as he violated her. She felt sick to her stomach. She tried desperately to pull her legs away from his invading cock, but she was completely immobilized by the nails in her wrists and ankles. He began thrusting harder and faster, slamming himself into her and grinding her hips with every brutal push. With each forceful motion, Actaea moaned. And then, the worst part of it all started. The man grunted, moaning with pleasure and pushing deeper into Actaea's body, until he finally came deep inside of her. Actaea sobbed in pain and humiliation as she felt him unload into her, feeling his hot sperm shoot through her insides like a raging river. When he was finished, the man pulled his spent cock out of her body.

The man wiped the sweat from his brow. "Not bad for a criminal, slut," he said, wiping his member on her naked body. He turned around to leave, leaving Actaea there on her cross, still hanging there, cum-soaked, unable to move.

Actaea hung there in her agony and humiliation, wishing she were dead already. "Please," she whimpered, "End me, please!" She wanted him to just kill her so she wouldn't have to endure this any longer. “Take my life! End my suffering!”

The man laughed at her, then walked away, whistling as he made his way toward the next town. The man left her hanging on that cross beside the road. Another time, maybe even later that night, a band of robbers or bandits would find her and use her again. Then, if the gods were merciful, she might be dead before the sun rose the next morning.
Great story , just the sort of thing I really want to see on CF, cruel and imaginative.. thanks for sharing. Much appreciated. :thumbup:
 
The desert sun beat down upon Actaea’s weak, naked body. Her tongue was dry as sandpaper. Her arms were stretched out to either side, her wrists impaled by thick metal spikes. Her feet were skewered on either side of the post, spreading her knees and leaving nothing hidden. She had been nailed to this cross and left for dead, her most intimate parts exposed in a vulgar display. Another day and she would die from thirst. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon when a man came out of the darkness. He was a tall, thickly-muscled man. He wore a pair of dirty trousers, and he had several scars on his bare chest. His muscular body glistened with sweat. Actaea watched him approach her, a look of curiosity and hope in her eyes as he stopped near the foot of the cross. Her hopes were dashed by his words.

"What do we have here?" he said. "A beautiful woman on a cross...? What a waste!"

He walked around the perimeter of Actaea's body, examining her in great detail. Actaea's heart began to beat faster. She felt a rush of humiliation and disgust as he licked his lips. This was no rescue…

It had happened a few times before. In the past two days, men had taken advantage of Actaea’s slowly dying body. She felt disgusting. Unclean, beyond just the sweaty grime covering her skin. She didn't care what happened to her any more. All she wanted to do was die. So she just hung there and let it happen to her. It seemed easier that way.

"I thought you'd have died by now," he said in a deep, gruff voice, "You must be stronger than you look." He stepped closer, reaching out toward Actaea’s chest. Her heart leaped as he touched her breasts. She could smell his hot sweat and musky body odor. Suddenly, Actaea felt the urge to resist. She didn't want this. She wanted this man away from her! She didn't want to be violated again!

"This is a nice little body," he said, running his hand along her nakedness. Actaea's mouth fell open in panic. She tried to scream, but all that came out of her dry mouth was a faint rasping sound. Even if she had been able to speak, nobody would have come to help her. She was a common criminal. Nobody would care what happened to her. And she was so close to dying, there was nothing anyone could do to save her. She didn't want to die... but then, neither did she want to go on living like this, naked and humiliated in a foreign land, so close to death and yet so far away from it.

"Please, sir...," she began, trying to speak through a dry throat, "Leave me alone. Please... let me die... in peace..."

The man laughed at her feeble protestations. "You're in no position to make demands, whore. I'm not letting you die until you've satisfied my hunger."

She was still feebly failing to plead for her life when the man began to pull at her legs, yanking them apart. With each agonizing movement, her flesh ripped and tore against the nails that held her in place. The man laughed at her, enjoying every minute of her misery. He took his time, enjoying the view of Actaea's naked body while his fingers worked their way inside of her. The humiliation was more excruciating than the pain. Actaea wanted to fight back, to struggle and kick, but her hands and feet were nailed to her cross, unable to move. She could barely lift her head, let alone fight. The only thing she could do was watch this brute ravage her body and pray that it was all over soon.

When the man finally pulled his hand away from between her legs, Actaea's mind almost exploded with relief. But there was still more to come.

"Well," the man said, "I think I know what I'm going to do with you now." He grinned. He was already undressing, pulling his pants off. Actaea watched, aghast. His cock sprang up into view. It hung limp at first, but then started to grow, hardening as he stared at her, sizing her up. He took hold of Actaea's head and forced her mouth onto his member. A scream welled up inside her as he thrust himself into her mouth, forcing her jaw wide open with one powerful tug. Actaea tried to pull away but could not escape from the man's grip on her head. The nails in her wrists and feet prevented her from getting away from him. Still, she struggled, fighting as much as her weak body would allow her.

Actaea wept, tears streaking down her grimy, sweaty face. Her body shook with sobs as the man kept forcing his cock further and further down her throat. Her throat felt raw. She gasped for air, struggling for each breath. Finally, when he could go no farther, he released Actaea. She hung limply from her nails, sobbing and coughing.

The man reached up and took hold of Actaea's hair, forcing her head back against her cross. He pulled himself closer to her, until their bodies were pressed against each other. She shuddered with revulsion at the feel of his hard, wet cock against her belly. The brute moved himself into position. His hands moved over her body, exploring every inch of her skin. Then, with one last glance at Actaea, he slammed himself inside of her.

Actaea screamed and wailed as he violated her. She felt sick to her stomach. She tried desperately to pull her legs away from his invading cock, but she was completely immobilized by the nails in her wrists and ankles. He began thrusting harder and faster, slamming himself into her and grinding her hips with every brutal push. With each forceful motion, Actaea moaned. And then, the worst part of it all started. The man grunted, moaning with pleasure and pushing deeper into Actaea's body, until he finally came deep inside of her. Actaea sobbed in pain and humiliation as she felt him unload into her, feeling his hot sperm shoot through her insides like a raging river. When he was finished, the man pulled his spent cock out of her body.

The man wiped the sweat from his brow. "Not bad for a criminal, slut," he said, wiping his member on her naked body. He turned around to leave, leaving Actaea there on her cross, still hanging there, cum-soaked, unable to move.

Actaea hung there in her agony and humiliation, wishing she were dead already. "Please," she whimpered, "End me, please!" She wanted him to just kill her so she wouldn't have to endure this any longer. “Take my life! End my suffering!”

The man laughed at her, then walked away, whistling as he made his way toward the next town. The man left her hanging on that cross beside the road. Another time, maybe even later that night, a band of robbers or bandits would find her and use her again. Then, if the gods were merciful, she might be dead before the sun rose the next morning.
Cruel , the way it is meant to be done.
 
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