Jastrow's Pic of the Day

[ShadowWolf]

Monday, June 18, 2018–Day 169. Here’s a new one entitled, "I Love A Parade"
"He’d grown up on a farm and as boy, he’d moved livestock around the field. Occasionly he’d drive cattle to the abbatoir in town for slaughter. Those heifer’s had it easy–a quick flick of the knife across their throats and it was all over. These two wouldn’t be so lucky. They’d nail them to crosses and let them writhe in agony for as long as they survived–hopefully a day or more. They had dazed looks on their faces as they were paraded through the city streets. Of course they were humiliated by their nakedness and about the way their flesh jiggled and danced with each blow of his crop. Perhaps what made it so degrading for them was the total indifference of the people who looked at them as passed–their faces exhibiting varying degrees of utter contempt, disgust, lust or just the satisfaction from the fact that they were alive and these two soon wouldn’t be. He was looking forward to fucking them again before they were nailed. They were high-bred–until just a few days ago they were living a life a pampered luxury. How quickly things had changed! Some of his fellow soldiers thought these two were a little plumb for their tastes. He didn’t care. Cunny was cunny as far as he was concerned. As long as his cock was buried to the hilt inside them, it was happy. He’d let his comrades enjoy fucking cunts that looked like little boys–he didn’t judge them–but he preferred a slut with some flesh on her bones. Who wouldn't rather sleep on a soft feather bed than lay on a lumpy bag of bones. And the look of absolute shame and humiliation on their faces as he lewdly rode them was priceless. They’d die with a cunt full of his cum and that was a happy thought. He gave them each a quick and painful blow on their asses to keep them moving. As he looked at their terrified faces, he wondered–what must they be thinking right now? What terror must they be imagining. He smiled. He knew from experience that whatever they were imagining–whatever terrors they mind could conceive, it wasn’t nearly as bad as what they were about to experience. ‘Soon...very soon...’ "

It is nice to see a picture of the walk to the site of crucifixion with the shame and humiliation a part of it.

 

[Eulalia]

The father is clearly not a Roman citizen.
He would have said, favourite daughter or not : "If she has betrayed Rome, then it is her deserved punishment! Let her suffer as long as possible!"

Nice sneer on the legionary's face.

Effective facial expressions all around, actually. Jas, you’ve visited the parental grief theme before, and this one is by far your best. The only depraved improvement I’d suggest is having Dad looking on, possibly held back by friends, as soldiers make sure they’re not putting a virgin to death.

Putting those two thoughts together -
even more depraved would be father making sure his favourite daughter who's betrayed Rome doesn't die a virgin

 

[Jastrow]

Tuesday, June 19, 2018–Day 170. Here’s a new one for today entitled, "Help me...".

 

[Barbaria1]

Tuesday, June 19, 2018–Day 170. Here’s a new one for today entitled, "Help me...".

You have her drooling in two places!

 

[Eulalia]

Tuesday, June 19, 2018–Day 170. Here’s a new one for today entitled, "Help me...".

Why does he need help? He looks as if he's managing quite well...
Oh, you girl? Well dear, all you have to do is hang there, you don't really need any help to do that.

 

[Jastrow]

Wednesday, June 20, 2018, Day 171. Here's an old one from 2008. It shows a young woman in the arena being whipped, groped and molested before the jeering crowd. Trust me, it will get much worse for her before it gets better... Entitled "Molested in the Arena".

 

[Loxuru]

Wednesday, June 20, 2018, Day 171. Here's an old one from 2008. It shows a young woman in the arena being whipped, groped and molested before the jeering crowd. Trust me, it will get much worse for her before it gets better... Entitled "Molested in the Arena".

Entertaining the public in the arena during half-time, long before cheerleaders were invented?

 

[Jastrow]

Thursday, June 21, 2018--Day 172. In March, I posted the first of a series of 4 renderings I had previously done reflecting the changing seasons of the year. The first rendering reflected the vernal equinox–the start of spring. The series imagined that a pagan village enacted a seasonal sacrifice on each of the equinoxes and solstices throughout the year. Two women from the village would be selected to be sacrificed on these days to ensure the heath and well-being of the village. They would be pampered and treated like royalty in the days leading up to the event. On the day, they would be stripped naked and paraded to the hillside where they would be nailed to crosses while the assembled villagers watch. Today is the summer solstice so it is another day of sacrifice is at hand. The two women selected for the summer solstice would face a particularly hard ordeal. The day of the summer solstice was the longest day of year so their suffering would be especially lengthy. The temperature on the day of the summer solstice would likely be very warm which would only add to their distress. They were more likely to be tormented by stinging and biting insects that time of year. This was perhaps the most important of the season sacrifices in the life of the village. The crops had been planted and their sacrifice would ensure that crops would grow and be bountiful and not fail and that the village would have food through the coming year. As last of the long day ended in the semi-dusk of that time of year, the women, if they still lived, would be mercifully killed by the local priest and village chieftain. The villagers would then be instructed to return home and to copulate–often and with great vigor throughout the hours of darkness before dawn. And if a female child was born nine months after this copulation, she their names would be recorded in the village temple and they would be a candidate for a future seasonal sacrifice once she became a woman. Come back in September and December to see the next 2 sacrifieces

 

[Barbaria1]

And if a female child was born nine months after this copulation, she their names would be recorded in the village temple and they would be a candidate for a future seasonal sacrifice once she became a woman.

Oh Shit! That’s not fair!

 

[phlebas]

Oh Shit! That’s not fair!

Fair?
FAIR?



Anyway, it looks fine from where I'm standing

 

[Jastrow]

Friday, June 22, 2018--Day 173. "He always considered himself a scholar...a man of science. He was fascinated with the science of death... As a soldier he had seen death many times–he’d watched as both comrades and foes breathed their last. He, like all soldiers, knew all too well that death could come for him at any time. But what was it like? What was it really like to face it? What was it like for an innocent to face it. The girl was a whore from a local brothel–he knew her well and had taken his pleasure from her firm young body many times, exploring the delights between her lithe thighs, his face nestled between the lush globes of her perfect breasts. What had appealed to him most about her was her love of life and her utter innocence. Yes, a whore could be innocent and that made her the perfect subject for his experiment. He purchased the girl from the brothel keeper and had her brought to his villa. After enjoying a final round of delicious copulation, he had her brought to his garden and had her nailed to a cross. At first, she had no idea what was happening and begged for mercy, but the intensity in his eyes as he watched her suffering soon convinced her that she was doomed. And so he watched–watched as she writhed in agony upon the cross, watched as her body twisted and turned lewdly in a final erotic dance that left him rock- hard, watched as she frantically searched for some way end the agony she was feeling. His servants had brought him his finest chair, his favorite hound and a goblet of his favorite wine allowing him to leisurely watch as the hours past. He could ask her questions–about what she was feeling–what she was fearing–a perfect scientific discourse. Even the hound seemed interested. Towards the end, she had become strangely at peace. Perhaps she longed for a better existence that might come when this life was over, or perhaps it was the prospect of the utter emptiness of death which at least was preferable to the agony she was currently feeling. At the very end, he rose and slapped her face until she moaned and, with great effort opened her eyes for a final time. And he watched, watched as the last embers of her life’s fire in her eyes flickered and died. It had been fascinating experiment–one that he knew he would try again in the very near future..." Entitled "Afternoon Discourse".

 

[Apostate]

Friday, June 22, 2018--Day 173. "He always considered himself a scholar...a man of science. He was fascinated with the science of death... As a soldier he had seen death many times–he’d watched as both comrades and foes breathed their last. He, like all soldiers, knew all too well that death could come for him at any time. But what was it like? What was it really like to face it? What was it like for an innocent to face it. The girl was a whore from a local brothel–he knew her well and had taken his pleasure from her firm young body many times, exploring the delights between her lithe thighs, his face nestled between the lush globes of her perfect breasts. What had appealed to him most about her was her love of life and her utter innocence. Yes, a whore could be innocent and that made her the perfect subject for his experiment. He purchased the girl from the brothel keeper and had her brought to his villa. After enjoying a final round of delicious copulation, he had her brought to his garden and had her nailed to a cross. At first, she had no idea what was happening and begged for mercy, but the intensity in his eyes as he watched her suffering soon convinced her that she was doomed. And so he watched–watched as she writhed in agony upon the cross, watched as her body twisted and turned lewdly in a final erotic dance that left him rock- hard, watched as she frantically searched for some way end the agony she was feeling. His servants had brought him his finest chair, his favorite hound and a goblet of his favorite wine allowing him to leisurely watch as the hours past. He could ask her questions–about what she was feeling–what she was fearing–a perfect scientific discourse. Even the hound seemed interested. Towards the end, she had become strangely at peace. Perhaps she longed for a better existence that might come when this life was over, or perhaps it was the prospect of the utter emptiness of death which at least was preferable to the agony she was currently feeling. At the very end, he rose and slapped her face until she moaned and, with great effort opened her eyes for a final time. And he watched, watched as the last embers of her life’s fire in her eyes flickered and died. It had been fascinating experiment–one that he knew he would try again in the very near future..." Entitled "Afternoon Discourse".

Precisely the scenario that calls to my unclean kink, Jas! Just lose the dog and bring onstage another slave who knows she’s sucking for her life.

 

[Barbaria1]

Friday, June 22, 2018--Day 173. "He always considered himself a scholar...a man of science. He was fascinated with the science of death... As a soldier he had seen death many times–he’d watched as both comrades and foes breathed their last. He, like all soldiers, knew all too well that death could come for him at any time. But what was it like? What was it really like to face it? What was it like for an innocent to face it. The girl was a whore from a local brothel–he knew her well and had taken his pleasure from her firm young body many times, exploring the delights between her lithe thighs, his face nestled between the lush globes of her perfect breasts. What had appealed to him most about her was her love of life and her utter innocence. Yes, a whore could be innocent and that made her the perfect subject for his experiment. He purchased the girl from the brothel keeper and had her brought to his villa. After enjoying a final round of delicious copulation, he had her brought to his garden and had her nailed to a cross. At first, she had no idea what was happening and begged for mercy, but the intensity in his eyes as he watched her suffering soon convinced her that she was doomed. And so he watched–watched as she writhed in agony upon the cross, watched as her body twisted and turned lewdly in a final erotic dance that left him rock- hard, watched as she frantically searched for some way end the agony she was feeling. His servants had brought him his finest chair, his favorite hound and a goblet of his favorite wine allowing him to leisurely watch as the hours past. He could ask her questions–about what she was feeling–what she was fearing–a perfect scientific discourse. Even the hound seemed interested. Towards the end, she had become strangely at peace. Perhaps she longed for a better existence that might come when this life was over, or perhaps it was the prospect of the utter emptiness of death which at least was preferable to the agony she was currently feeling. At the very end, he rose and slapped her face until she moaned and, with great effort opened her eyes for a final time. And he watched, watched as the last embers of her life’s fire in her eyes flickered and died. It had been fascinating experiment–one that he knew he would try again in the very near future..." Entitled "Afternoon Discourse".

Interesting back story. Long before the days of “informed consent” which protects victims today from such medical experimentation.

 

[Apostate]

Interesting back story. Long before the days of “informed consent” which protects victims today from such medical experimentation.

Yes, Barb, and ever since the Late Unpleasantness chattel slavery is no longer allowed. However, such experimentation still goes on in our prisons, often with terrifying results.

 

[ShadowWolf]

Friday, June 22, 2018--Day 173. "He always considered himself a scholar...a man of science. He was fascinated with the science of death... As a soldier he had seen death many times–he’d watched as both comrades and foes breathed their last. He, like all soldiers, knew all too well that death could come for him at any time. But what was it like? What was it really like to face it? What was it like for an innocent to face it. The girl was a whore from a local brothel–he knew her well and had taken his pleasure from her firm young body many times, exploring the delights between her lithe thighs, his face nestled between the lush globes of her perfect breasts. What had appealed to him most about her was her love of life and her utter innocence. Yes, a whore could be innocent and that made her the perfect subject for his experiment. He purchased the girl from the brothel keeper and had her brought to his villa. After enjoying a final round of delicious copulation, he had her brought to his garden and had her nailed to a cross. At first, she had no idea what was happening and begged for mercy, but the intensity in his eyes as he watched her suffering soon convinced her that she was doomed. And so he watched–watched as she writhed in agony upon the cross, watched as her body twisted and turned lewdly in a final erotic dance that left him rock- hard, watched as she frantically searched for some way end the agony she was feeling. His servants had brought him his finest chair, his favorite hound and a goblet of his favorite wine allowing him to leisurely watch as the hours past. He could ask her questions–about what she was feeling–what she was fearing–a perfect scientific discourse. Even the hound seemed interested. Towards the end, she had become strangely at peace. Perhaps she longed for a better existence that might come when this life was over, or perhaps it was the prospect of the utter emptiness of death which at least was preferable to the agony she was currently feeling. At the very end, he rose and slapped her face until she moaned and, with great effort opened her eyes for a final time. And he watched, watched as the last embers of her life’s fire in her eyes flickered and died. It had been fascinating experiment–one that he knew he would try again in the very near future..." Entitled "Afternoon Discourse".

I love the fit and tense muscles she shows while on the cross.

 

[phlebas]

Friday, June 22, 2018--Day 173. "He always considered himself a scholar...a man of science. He was fascinated with the science of death... As a soldier he had seen death many times–he’d watched as both comrades and foes breathed their last. He, like all soldiers, knew all too well that death could come for him at any time. But what was it like? What was it really like to face it? What was it like for an innocent to face it. The girl was a whore from a local brothel–he knew her well and had taken his pleasure from her firm young body many times, exploring the delights between her lithe thighs, his face nestled between the lush globes of her perfect breasts. What had appealed to him most about her was her love of life and her utter innocence. Yes, a whore could be innocent and that made her the perfect subject for his experiment. He purchased the girl from the brothel keeper and had her brought to his villa. After enjoying a final round of delicious copulation, he had her brought to his garden and had her nailed to a cross. At first, she had no idea what was happening and begged for mercy, but the intensity in his eyes as he watched her suffering soon convinced her that she was doomed. And so he watched–watched as she writhed in agony upon the cross, watched as her body twisted and turned lewdly in a final erotic dance that left him rock- hard, watched as she frantically searched for some way end the agony she was feeling. His servants had brought him his finest chair, his favorite hound and a goblet of his favorite wine allowing him to leisurely watch as the hours past. He could ask her questions–about what she was feeling–what she was fearing–a perfect scientific discourse. Even the hound seemed interested. Towards the end, she had become strangely at peace. Perhaps she longed for a better existence that might come when this life was over, or perhaps it was the prospect of the utter emptiness of death which at least was preferable to the agony she was currently feeling. At the very end, he rose and slapped her face until she moaned and, with great effort opened her eyes for a final time. And he watched, watched as the last embers of her life’s fire in her eyes flickered and died. It had been fascinating experiment–one that he knew he would try again in the very near future..." Entitled "Afternoon Discourse".

Very interesting story and pic. I'm always moved and saddened by these stories of innocents who are treated harshly like this, in this case for cold and calculating reasons.
The topic of crux research is very interesting. As you know, we have very little hard evidence from Roman times on this subject, no one wrote a treatise on how to carry out a crucifixion, it was not documented or codified, and what we have only comes to us in passing in other works. Around the turn of the century I was toying with the idea of a story about this, I wrote a few episodes in a story about university researchers investigating crux a la Zugibe, and I have some manips on this topic as well, I intend to return to it one day. Anyway, part of this was the idea that one of these researchers comes across a work by a Roman magistrate on the subject of crucifixion. Unlike your character he didn't actively experiment as such, but he attended executions, interviewed victims, and generally observed with a keen eye. I'm still interested in this idea and must get back to it some time. Do any of the old timers remember if I got as far as posting any of this on the old Crux group? I can't remember now, but it would have been around 2001/2002.

 

[Jastrow]

Saturday, June 23, 2018--Day 174. One of the stories that first got me interested in crux fantasies was a story by C. A. Smith entitled "The Crucifixion of Annia". It tells the tale of a slavegirl, a house slave, named Annia. A young slave boy on the estate where she lives has foolishly killed the estate’s master. As a deterrent to the slaves on other estates, the law dictated that all of the slaves on the estate–young or old, men or women, house slaves or field slaves–would be publically crucified and their rotting bodies left on their crosses for the other slave or other estates to see–a powerful lesson on the cost of anything that threatened the establish order. The story graphically depicts what happens as one by one this judgment is carried out. I don’t think another story captured, for me, the horror and raw brutality of crucifixion as well as this one did. Anyway, I’ve called this rendering "Annia" in honor of the unfortunate heroine of that story.

 

[Jastrow]

I should tell you that in the original story, Annia is blond and blue-eyed. So much for loyalty to the written text...

 

[Loxuru]

Saturday, June 23, 2018--Day 174. One of the stories that first got me interested in crux fantasies was a story by C. A. Smith entitled "The Crucifixion of Annia". It tells the tale of a slavegirl, a house slave, named Annia. A young slave boy on the estate where she lives has foolishly killed the estate’s master. As a deterrent to the slaves on other estates, the law dictated that all of the slaves on the estate–young or old, men or women, house slaves or field slaves–would be publically crucified and their rotting bodies left on their crosses for the other slave or other estates to see–a powerful lesson on the cost of anything that threatened the establish order. The story graphically depicts what happens as one by one this judgment is carried out. I don’t think another story captured, for me, the horror and raw brutality of crucifixion as well as this one did. Anyway, I’ve called this rendering "Annia" in honor of the unfortunate heroine of that story.

Reminds me of the novel 'Neropolis', where the same theme - slavegirl murders her master, all the slaves get crucified in retalliation - is brought up. With a very graphic description of the crucifixion technique and the suffering of the slaves. For me one story that drew my interest about crucifixion.

 

[Eulalia]

Fair?
FAIR?
View attachment 596886
View attachment 596887

Anyway, it looks fine from where I'm standing

Seriously - well, sort of - it's interesting to me to imagine how it would be, to grow up knowing that was going to be my fate, in a society and culture where the whole business is deeply and firmly believed to be right and necessary. On one hand, it would of course be very frightening, yet familiar, seeing the routine carried out every 3 months. I'd feel honoured, picked out for a special role. I - and other 'chosen' girls - would prepare ourselves, physically and mentally. And, knowing I only had so long to live, I'd make sure to live it to the full.