Crux-Emperor Baracus X
Rectidolor
It,and five others are up and ready to host their victims ....(*pats nearest cross...*)Haven't you disassembled your cross, to put it up at the meeting for testing and demonstrating?
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- Thread starter Barbaria1
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With a cacophonous nerve-jarring clang, Baracus tosses his bag of stainless steel, custom-made, square shanked 8-inch nails on the stage floor.
He is taking charge now, along with mp5stab, and a crew of eager, if somewhat inebriated CFers eager to lend assistance. Tree steps back, with Seagrams in hand, ready to offer his professional advice when and wherever needed.
The crucifixion crew, consisting of Old Slave, Migoz2, Heineudo, TheLimey, Loxoru, Fossy, Phlebas, fallenmystic and Gibbs505, grab the two crosses nearest to Kathy and me, and lay them down on the floor.
“Ready!” calls Baracus, adjusting his loincloth ... again.
Eager hands take hold of Kathy and me, dragging us onto, and stretching us out full-length atop the hard wooden timbers.
“Owww!” cries Kathy as her whip inflamed backside drags against the wood.
“Mmmmph,” I add, as my arms are stretched out along the crossbeam and held tightly in place while lengths of rope are woven through my fingers and wrapped twice around my hands before being tied to the wood.
LittleSiss and Messaline have meanwhile taken their place on the floor to wait their turn. Messa is happily humming a French folk song and chuckling happily about the fact that the crosses on which she and Siss will be crucified are constructed of French premium wood.
Elsewhere on the stage, Yupar and Eulalia are pleasing the crowd with their wild antics at the whipping post and on the caning bench.
And, after a quick show of hands, following a motion put forth to all gathered CFers on the floor by Twonines and Montycrusto, a seventh cross is being prepared for Malins.
I raise my head to yell at RacingRodent, who has mounted the stage with his camera and positioned himself at the foot of my cross.
“Not from that angle!” I scream, pressing my knees together.
“Naughty squirrel,” giggles Rias.
He just flicks his tail in response.
My attention is diverted by a prick on my left wrist.
“You’re not really going to use nails?” I gasp in horror.
And on hearing that, ThehangingTree rouses himself, saunters over, takes a swig of Seagrams from his bottle, leans over and belches in my face.
“What did you expect, Barb?” he says.
“Not that!”
“Do we care?”
“Oh shit!”
He is taking charge now, along with mp5stab, and a crew of eager, if somewhat inebriated CFers eager to lend assistance. Tree steps back, with Seagrams in hand, ready to offer his professional advice when and wherever needed.
The crucifixion crew, consisting of Old Slave, Migoz2, Heineudo, TheLimey, Loxoru, Fossy, Phlebas, fallenmystic and Gibbs505, grab the two crosses nearest to Kathy and me, and lay them down on the floor.
“Ready!” calls Baracus, adjusting his loincloth ... again.
Eager hands take hold of Kathy and me, dragging us onto, and stretching us out full-length atop the hard wooden timbers.
“Owww!” cries Kathy as her whip inflamed backside drags against the wood.
“Mmmmph,” I add, as my arms are stretched out along the crossbeam and held tightly in place while lengths of rope are woven through my fingers and wrapped twice around my hands before being tied to the wood.
LittleSiss and Messaline have meanwhile taken their place on the floor to wait their turn. Messa is happily humming a French folk song and chuckling happily about the fact that the crosses on which she and Siss will be crucified are constructed of French premium wood.
Elsewhere on the stage, Yupar and Eulalia are pleasing the crowd with their wild antics at the whipping post and on the caning bench.
And, after a quick show of hands, following a motion put forth to all gathered CFers on the floor by Twonines and Montycrusto, a seventh cross is being prepared for Malins.
I raise my head to yell at RacingRodent, who has mounted the stage with his camera and positioned himself at the foot of my cross.
“Not from that angle!” I scream, pressing my knees together.
“Naughty squirrel,” giggles Rias.
He just flicks his tail in response.
My attention is diverted by a prick on my left wrist.
“You’re not really going to use nails?” I gasp in horror.
And on hearing that, ThehangingTree rouses himself, saunters over, takes a swig of Seagrams from his bottle, leans over and belches in my face.
“What did you expect, Barb?” he says.
“Not that!”
“Do we care?”
“Oh shit!”
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Crux-Emperor Baracus X
Rectidolor
Excellent narrative.
WELL, I'M JUST SITTING IN THE BACKGROUND WATCHING THE FESTIVITIES, AS USUAL. AND AS USUAL, IT WILL BE MY JOB, I SUPPOSE TO GET EVERYONE HOME AGAIN AFTERWARDS, EH?Oh, come now. Don’t be bashful. Stagger forth!
malins
Stumbling Seeker
Ooops I'm in over my head again.
I am now at risk of actually getting crustified by Montycruxo!!!
err or getting cruxed by Montycrusto sorry I sometimes mix up my words when I'm getting very nervous excrux me please
umm and I know what this means
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
While tasting beer one after another, I had a vivid discussion with a British CF member about Brexit. The more beer I tasted, the more shocking became my viewpoints for my British interlocutor. We both remained gentleman like, but at some point, he reminded me, that there had been times that speaking out such opinions as mine, would have cost me a harsh treatment in the dungeons of The Tower, followed by a public hanging, drawing and quartering. To which I reminded him, that these times could be not far away from coming back, which he agreed to, actually! Yet, I proposed a plea bargain, pleading guilty in exchange for a crucifixion instead, since the view of my own intestines being barbecued seemed a little bit too odd for me, even for the standards of British cuisine! He said it could be arranged, and that, if the evening went on like this, there would be a few more to be nailed tomorrow. Nearby Westminster Gardens could be a good place, he proposed, crucified with a view on the Thames!
Beer was flowing well. As was Riesling and even wodka. One other group was discussing Cicero, the Roman Republican values, and the awkward way they contributed to the fall of the Republic itself and the rise of populist dictatorship! I briefly joined in, made my point that sooner or later, our democracies would go the same way, and that the only way to prevent it was, that we would better go right now straight to nearby Whitehall, stuff the place with barrels of gun powder and blow it sky high, with the populists inside! Someone remarked that there have been times that speaking out such intentions, would have cost me a harsh treatment in the dungeons of The Tower, followed by a public hanging, drawing and quartering. I once more pleaded guilty in exchange for just a crucifixion with a view on the Thames! One of them said, that would probably the case with all of us, since the Red Lion was supposed to close at 10, and no one here seemed to intend to obey that rule!
There was a lot of fun going on with the lottery, or rather, the Great Squirrel Conspiracy, and Barb’s preparation to the cross. I took the opportunity to bring her a glass of her favorite Riesling wine, to boost her morale, and giving me the chance, for the first time this evening, to enjoy the view of the world’s most famous tight little! Underway, I ran into Baracus, already clad in just one of his favourite loincloths. He was clearly proud that one of the six crosses on the stage was his, and even more proud that it would receive one of our famous cruxgirls, to get crucified on. Then I met Malins (a bit disappointed that she had not ‘won’ with the lottery?), presenting herself as a member of the ‘bring your own nails team’, and inquired if I had a hammer?
‘No, and if I had a hammer, I’ll ring it in the morning!” I answered. Don’t know where I got it from!?
“We better don’t wait till tomorrow, Lox!” she replied. “If things continue like this,…”
“Yes, then, before midnight, here will be two kinds of people here : those not standing on their feet, because they are crucified, and those not standing on their feet because they are too drunk!”
I finally decided it would be more careful to postpone the tasting of the remainder of the beer list.
After having given a helping hand with preparing the cross for Barb and Kathy, I needed an urgent walk to the bathroom. The beer, you know! I made it to the exit, not without having to dodge a scythe blade underway. A little bit incautious from the owner, but I preferred avoiding an argument with him.
The corridor leading to the bathroom felt cool and quiet, compared to the turmoil inside. I fulfilled the call of nature, making up my mind to go on with coca cola for the rest of the evening.
Beer was flowing well. As was Riesling and even wodka. One other group was discussing Cicero, the Roman Republican values, and the awkward way they contributed to the fall of the Republic itself and the rise of populist dictatorship! I briefly joined in, made my point that sooner or later, our democracies would go the same way, and that the only way to prevent it was, that we would better go right now straight to nearby Whitehall, stuff the place with barrels of gun powder and blow it sky high, with the populists inside! Someone remarked that there have been times that speaking out such intentions, would have cost me a harsh treatment in the dungeons of The Tower, followed by a public hanging, drawing and quartering. I once more pleaded guilty in exchange for just a crucifixion with a view on the Thames! One of them said, that would probably the case with all of us, since the Red Lion was supposed to close at 10, and no one here seemed to intend to obey that rule!
There was a lot of fun going on with the lottery, or rather, the Great Squirrel Conspiracy, and Barb’s preparation to the cross. I took the opportunity to bring her a glass of her favorite Riesling wine, to boost her morale, and giving me the chance, for the first time this evening, to enjoy the view of the world’s most famous tight little! Underway, I ran into Baracus, already clad in just one of his favourite loincloths. He was clearly proud that one of the six crosses on the stage was his, and even more proud that it would receive one of our famous cruxgirls, to get crucified on. Then I met Malins (a bit disappointed that she had not ‘won’ with the lottery?), presenting herself as a member of the ‘bring your own nails team’, and inquired if I had a hammer?
‘No, and if I had a hammer, I’ll ring it in the morning!” I answered. Don’t know where I got it from!?
“We better don’t wait till tomorrow, Lox!” she replied. “If things continue like this,…”
“Yes, then, before midnight, here will be two kinds of people here : those not standing on their feet, because they are crucified, and those not standing on their feet because they are too drunk!”
I finally decided it would be more careful to postpone the tasting of the remainder of the beer list.
After having given a helping hand with preparing the cross for Barb and Kathy, I needed an urgent walk to the bathroom. The beer, you know! I made it to the exit, not without having to dodge a scythe blade underway. A little bit incautious from the owner, but I preferred avoiding an argument with him.
The corridor leading to the bathroom felt cool and quiet, compared to the turmoil inside. I fulfilled the call of nature, making up my mind to go on with coca cola for the rest of the evening.
malins
Stumbling Seeker
eh umm we will no be doing much of any LOL'ing as things proceed though after some hours there may be some heads lolling sideways as the crux takes its toll...
malins
Stumbling Seeker
What, me getting involved with any kind of conspiracy?! never do that. I don't want my name involved with any conspiracies!! I'm just trying to stay out of trouble... err ummm how did I get in this bind again?!
By coming to the Red Lion. Don't worry, Malins, you are in good hands, Messa has brought plenty of wood, and if you would like to leave your clothes over there in the corner we can begin. Now, did you prefer a single tailed whip or the Cat?
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
A bunch of other non-crux, CFers and I try to start a chant: "No Nails! No Nails!" However, a loud and very drunk chorus of cruxers at the bar begin pounded there mugs on the bar and shooting: "Nail Then! Nail Them!"
It looks as if it might come to fisticuffs and spoil the whole party. But then, thankfully, Eulalia while still tied to the post and taking an inordinately large number of blows for the cat, turns and says, in a soothing voice, "Pleise, people. Cannae we aa get alang thegither?" Like oil poured on troubled waters, the discord ceased at once.
It looks as if it might come to fisticuffs and spoil the whole party. But then, thankfully, Eulalia while still tied to the post and taking an inordinately large number of blows for the cat, turns and says, in a soothing voice, "Pleise, people. Cannae we aa get alang thegither?" Like oil poured on troubled waters, the discord ceased at once.
fallenmystic
Tribune
"Come over here and lend your hands. Those crosses won't stand up by themselves!"
I raised my head to a slightly slurred voice from a man who was standing in a corner with Barb and Kathy.
I'm not sure if those were his exact words, but my English comprehension was just enough to catch his intention. That must be Tree, I thought, assuming from a cowboy hat he is wearing which I saw from his profile picture.
I felt a bit reluctant at first, having less enthusiasm for driving nails to a human body than most other attendants seem to have.
However, realizing I could possibly be one of the very few people in the bar who can still hammer a nail instead of a hand, I decided to put my soberness to fair use.
As I walked across the bar, a sharp crack echoed through the hall, followed by a pitiful whimpering of a girl. I paused my steps and turned my head in the direction to find Yupar writhing on the whipping post.
Her features immediately caught my attention, having soft spots for Asian girls, especially those who live in Southern regions of the continent.
I managed to wait long enough to see the second blow lands on her soft skin, drawing even more wild reactions than the previous one. Suppressing my urge to divert my path to watch her ordeal from a closer quarter, I managed to follow the staggering steps of others to approach Barb and Kathy.
Even with my ethnic preferences, I cannot deny that they are both highly attractive women, especially when they stretched their naked body on a wooden cross. My rusty French managed to catch a few words like "première qualité" when someone exclaimed in that beautiful language from behind. But my mind was too occupied in admiring their bodily curves to understand the rest of her words.
But are they really going to crucify those poor girls? Granted, I could sense a bit of excitement among Barb and Kathy's apparently nervous countenance. And I've seen them miraculously come back to life countless times after they were crucified, hanged, burned, impaled, or whatever unimaginable cruelty other CFers may throw at them.
However, all these things have happened in an online space. Would they still be able to resurrect when they get crucified in real life? But wait, is this actually real?
To think of it, I cannot seem to remember how I came to this place. Did I really buy a plane ticket to attend this weird meeting when I can even barely afford to buy my next meal? I don't know...
Maybe this isn't real life, but I may be in some fictional place and in a fictional story. But haven't I seen an actual photograph of Red Lion before? I felt dizzy and staggered, but a steady hand urged me to go forward with a friendly pat on my shoulder.
I stepped closer to help others laying Barb across the wooden cross. I grabbed her arm and hold it steady as they tried their best to get her wrist where it's on a perfect spot for the hammering with as much precision as their inebriated hands allowed.
I felt her muscle flinch as they marked a suitable spot on her wrist with the sharp end of an ominous-looking nail. I saw her cleanly shaven armpit glowing with sweat, but I can only smell a faint aroma of soap from her tensed body.
How long would it take before the hairs grow back there, I mused, imagining a more ideal shape I would like to see her in. Why can't we just take those girls to some basement to break them, instead of wasting them on a cross?
Leashing them in a cage and feeding them some dog food for a month or two will surely make them look and smell much conforming to the image I have of slave girls. But probably, if they saw themselves more as a slave girl than a victim of a particular form of Roman justice, we would be all members of slaveryforums.com rather than being CFers.
Shaking my head to dispel the image of a bit more filthy and furry versions of Barb and Kathy grovelling on the ground in a dingy basement cage, I stood up to give my place to someone with more strength than I have. It wasn't difficult to imagine what frantic fits those girls will provide once the cold metal begins to penetrate their soft skin and cut their tendons.
I almost stepped on a wriggly tail of Rias and stumbled as she scurried busily near the stage with her rodent friend. I stooped low to meet her gaze and cupped her cheek with both of my hands, massaging them with my thumbs.
"What are you doing?" A tall blonde girl approached me and asked in a bewildered voice, apparently surprised at my rude behaviour.
"Oh, nice to see you, Star!" I greeted StarbuckSlut with a warm smile, as I recognized her beautiful face and well-built body from a pic I saw of her before.
"I know it'd be an awfully inappropriate thing to do if she wasn't a cat," I lowered my hand to scratch Rias' chin from below and continued, "But see? She's not hissing, so she must be loving it like other cats do." I answered her as I release Rias to go back to her business, half expecting to hear happy purring from her.
Well, yes. Perhaps this is all just Lewis Carroll style literary nonsense? You’re not at the Red Lion with a mob of inebriated Cruxforum lunatics. You just happened to fall through a rabbit hole. No wait. Perhaps it was a squirrelly rodent hole.
Always the troublemaker!
Always the peacemaker!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
I'll get you another glass of Riesling, Barb?Too clever ... CRUCIFY HER!
Rias
Neko Girl
me think everybody prefer cat meow
Rias
Neko Girl
oho watch out where u step but also thanks for cuddles purr purr meow nya
