LittleSiss
Sorceress
Times are simple but not always.
Sometimes it gets twisted.
I might need a sick day!
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Marcella Gets Tagged
- Thread starter thehangingtree
- Start date
Times are simple but not always.
Sometimes it gets twisted.
I might need a sick day!
Cella
Spectator
Mmmmm, my sister Siss : we've to learn Marcella to other kinds of "working", I think ...
Sven is gone! He left me! The bastard! Couldn't handle the needs of a condemned cunt. Oh, he loved my pussy before I was a condemned cunt -- but can't handle it -- me -- now!
I loved his cock so much!!!!
But, I have to face realities. Time is short.
Girls, I'm definitely open to other kinds of working . . .
Tuesday, June 20, 2016, late afternoon…
We are taken from our cells, placed, in irons and marched through the walls of paparazzi to a police van to take us to the some abandoned jail near the mound we be will crucified.
I hope the fuckers enjoyed the show that I still don’t know why it’s going on! We are placed in cells and chains and padlocks secure the barred doors as their locks have either frozen by rust or no one can find the keys to the doors. There has long been no glass over the window but the bars are strong and I look up at the mound where I will be crucified in the morning. Under portable floodlights they practice raising crosses that Barb, Messa, and I will be nailed to in the morning. The crosses have sandbags to simulate our loose weight tied to them; it seems to be no problem.
I am so screwed!!!
I sleep in fitful short bursts. In the morning Barb, Messa, and I being chained in a coffle with our wrists bound to the beams they will be crucified to. We are led up the mound to our execution.
This is so wrong but there is nothing I can do! I am damned to die crucified!
“Wake up, Marcella. It is time to go” a huge black says. Fuck, I was dreaming! I am dirty and sweaty from the warm, humid Midwestern night air. I wipe some off with the filthy burlap cloth they gave me when I asked for a cover.
I stand holding the burlap in front of me over my breasts with one hand and slip my other hand behind to finger my warm wet tagged pussy. As I walk towards him he says “The cloth stays.”
“I don’t even get a loincloth” I protest.
“Marcella, the only thing you get is a cross and three spikes. Now move!”
-Marcella
Tree
We are taken from our cells, placed, in irons and marched through the walls of paparazzi to a police van to take us to the some abandoned jail near the mound we be will crucified.
I hope the fuckers enjoyed the show that I still don’t know why it’s going on! We are placed in cells and chains and padlocks secure the barred doors as their locks have either frozen by rust or no one can find the keys to the doors. There has long been no glass over the window but the bars are strong and I look up at the mound where I will be crucified in the morning. Under portable floodlights they practice raising crosses that Barb, Messa, and I will be nailed to in the morning. The crosses have sandbags to simulate our loose weight tied to them; it seems to be no problem.
I am so screwed!!!
I sleep in fitful short bursts. In the morning Barb, Messa, and I being chained in a coffle with our wrists bound to the beams they will be crucified to. We are led up the mound to our execution.
This is so wrong but there is nothing I can do! I am damned to die crucified!
“Wake up, Marcella. It is time to go” a huge black says. Fuck, I was dreaming! I am dirty and sweaty from the warm, humid Midwestern night air. I wipe some off with the filthy burlap cloth they gave me when I asked for a cover.
I stand holding the burlap in front of me over my breasts with one hand and slip my other hand behind to finger my warm wet tagged pussy. As I walk towards him he says “The cloth stays.”
“I don’t even get a loincloth” I protest.
“Marcella, the only thing you get is a cross and three spikes. Now move!”
-Marcella
Tree
Gee .... I think our tags look as good from the backside as they do from the front 
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Yes, Tree! A cross and three nails ... and our body suffering to this cross ... Isn't wonderful ? Isn't it that the beauty of the crucifixion ?
Yes, Tree! A cross and three nails ... and our body suffering to this cross ... Isn't wonderful ? Isn't it that the beauty of the crucifixion ?
Some of the best things come in threes ... three naked girls, three crosses, three crucifixions
Full agree and affirm this rule!Highway Regulations require that cunt-tags be clearly visible from front and rear.
Yes, Tree! A cross and three nails ... and our body suffering to this cross ... Isn't wonderful ? Isn't it that the beauty of the crucifixion ?
Some of the best things come in threes ... three naked girls, three crosses, three crucifixions
Symmetry tops solitude every time!!!
Thanks for looking...
Hey, where's my spider, which was on my shoulder?
Help! Police, they stole my spider!
Top-Cat
Cella
Spectator
“Marcella, the only thing you get is a cross and three spikes."
-- A big black
". . . we don't care why you are being crucified"
-- Tree
A Condemned Cunt's Lament
It’s so nice to know you’ll think of me
When to the cross you nail me, Mr. Tree
Stretched across rough wood, I trembling lie
Eyes wide, sobbing, and terrified
My pillowed breasts skyward heave
To see you beside me on one knee
“Hello, Marcella,” your soft voice I hear
“The time has come; let’s start, my dear.”
“A condemned cunt you are, and so must die
Nailed to a cross, raised up on high.”
You pat my head and squeeze my tits
I scream, “Fuck you! Get on with it!”
You twist my nipples, for your enjoyment
They respond in kind, so proud, tumescent
Oh shit! I see you have a woody
When between my legs you grab my pussy!
Now, down to business, as is your manner
You ask for nails and an iron hammer
You press a spike into my wrist
I look in horror and make a fist
Your hammer falls, the pain burns bright
I howl and fight with all my might
First one wrist, and then repeat
But what to do about my feet?
They rest on the stipes side by side
Just two nails to go, and be crucified.
But you hesitate, then say to me
“No cunt is worth more than three.”
If one nail will do
Why, indeed, use two?
To waste a nail on me would be a crime
So, put foot over foot and save a dime
If you do it right
I’ll last through the night
So, pound the nail through densest bone
To the wood beneath, drive it home
I’ll howl and scream, and likely shit
The pain so great – I can’t handle it
But nailed down fast my feet will be
I’ll not pull off the spike in agony
With tender feet thus secured
Long crux hours will be endured
To help me breathe and stay alive
As relentless torment I abide
Hanging naked -- tits, cunt exposed
I deserve it all – well, I suppose
I’m just a worthless bitch, certified
My guilt, I know, can’t be denied
But, truth be told, I don’t why
I’m to hang in agony ‘till I die
Yet the tag that dangles from my twat
Fairly damns me, does it not?
So, on my cross keep me full aroused
An unconscious girl won’t please the crowd!
Crucified together, we three girls agree
There’s no better carnifex than old Mr. Tree!
Last edited:
Tree
It was a joke.
I've actually posted this picture, (13-05-2016), on the Nude Out Of Place thread, but she really has the Spider Tattoo.
As I know you hate tattooing, you must have used your trick to erase it.
Top-Cat
“Marcella, the only thing you get is a cross and three spikes."
-- A big black
". . . we don't care why you are being crucified"
-- Tree
A Condemned Cunt's Lament
It’s so nice to know you’ll think of me
When to the cross you nail me, Mr. Tree
Stretched across rough wood, I trembling lie
Eyes wide, sobbing, and terrified
My pillowed breasts skyward heave
To see you beside me on one knee
“Hello, Marcella,” your soft voice I hear
“The time has come; let’s start, my dear.”
“A condemned cunt you are, and so must die
Nailed to a cross, raised up on high.”
You pat my head and squeeze my tits
I scream, “Fuck you! Get on with it!”
You twist my nipples, for your enjoyment
They respond in kind, so proud, tumescent
Oh shit! I see you have a woody
When between my legs you grab my pussy!
Now, down to business, as is your manner
You ask for nails and an iron hammer
You press a spike into my wrist
I look in horror and make a fist
Your hammer falls, the pain burns bright
I howl and fight with all my might
First one wrist, and then repeat
But what to do about my feet?
They rest on the stipes side by side
Just two nails to go, and be crucified.
But you hesitate, then say to me
“No cunt is worth more than three.”
If one nail will do
Why, indeed, use two?
To waste a nail on me would be a crime
So, put foot over foot and save a dime
If you do it right
I’ll last through the night
So, pound the nail through densest bone
To the wood beneath, drive it home
I’ll howl and scream, and likely shit
The pain so great – I can’t handle it
But nailed down fast my feet will be
I’ll not pull off the spike in agony
With tender feet thus secured
Long crux hours will be endured
To help me breathe and stay alive
As relentless torment I abide
Hanging naked -- tits, cunt exposed
I deserve it all – well, I suppose
I’m just a worthless bitch, certified
My guilt, I know, can’t be denied
But, truth be told, I don’t why
I’m to hang in agony ‘till I die
Yet the tag that dangles from my twat
Fairly damns me, does it not?
So, on my cross keep me full aroused
An unconscious girl won’t please the crowd!
Crucified together, we three girls agree
There’s no better carnifex than old Mr. Tree!
'The hits just keep coming'... Thanks Marcella
Tree
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Incy-wincy spider climbed up the spout,
Down came the rain and washed the spider out,
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
So Incy-wincy spider climbed up again.
(I must have been about 18 months old when I first learnt that,
probably the first poem I ever learned!
)
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Incy-wincy spider climbed up the spout,
Down came the rain and washed the spider out,
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
So Incy-wincy spider climbed up again.
The same in French :
L'araignée Gypsy monte à la goutière
Tiens voilà la pluie Gypsy tombe par terre
Mais le soleil a chassé la pluie ...
We sang that in Summer camp in miming ...
Wednesday morning 4 AM, June 21, 2017
Barb, Messa, and Marcella are chained in a coffle and brought to the Cahokia Mounds Historic Site and enter the interpretative center (what the hell happened to the term ‘visitors’ center???).
As they enter from the 84°F and 94% relative humidity air outside the 70°F and dry air-conditioned air in the center make their nipples quite tumescent! Tree comes into the room and looks the three over. He lights a Marlboro and takes a drink from his glass. He says “You’ll look good crucified.”
“Fuck you, I may not be able to avoid being crucified but don’t expect me to carry my cross up the hill” Marcella barks practically spitting in anger. Tree nods to Gunner who locks her wrist behind her back in irons. He forces Marcella forward and makes her kneel before Tree.
In an angry voice Tree says “You will do what you are told to do and do it without question or my friend Primus will administer one hell of a scourging.”
“Do what the hell you want to me. I don’t give a shit” Marcella defiantly replied.
“Who said you were going to be whipped? Would you prefer to watch Barb or Messa get it” Tree asks.
These people are crazy! I look up at him and say “Don’t whip either! I’ll carry the damn thing.”
“You don’t have to” he replies.
“No, I will! Just don’t whip them” I plea.
He flicks his cigarette butt at me and lights up another. He says “Because they want you crucified before sunrise I’m paying Bull and Gunner time and a half so I don’t have the luxury of you three carrying your crosses. They are waiting for you on top the mound. You will all be crucified anyway. If one of you doesn’t follow orders the other two get flogged… and Barb, I have heard about your rebellious streak. If all three of you rebel I have some new cornus I am trying to get Nailus Martyrs to carry that will make you last at least another painful day on your cross. Do you understand?”
I don’t argue. As mad as I am I think I could kill this tall skinny guy but Bull and Gunner could break all three of us in half. It might be a good option but my head isn’t wrapped around dying just quite yet…
One of the trade-offs of not having to carry our crosses we are locked in irons that may weigh as much as the crosses we would have carried. Add that to the heavy chains that locks us in a coffle and even without shackles walking is difficult. There is a long walk from the building to the base of the mound on a gravel path. I bitch how bad my feet hurt but Messa at the front of the coffle says “This isn’t anything. Wait till Tree hammers the spikes through you.”
I don’t count the steps going up to the first tier of the mound but it has to be more than 100 made from weathered timber that feels no better under foot than the gravel! It is an eerie march as it is still dark and the portable generator-powered floodlights cast strong shadows as we climb. There is another shorter gravel path between the first set of stairs to the second set we will climb to our Golgotha and I am sore and tired already. The second stairs are shorter but somewhat steeper. We reach the top and walk over another gravel path to where the three crosses lay in wait for us.
I look done at the first one we pass that is lit as we are by four sets portable floodlights. I am surprised I can suppress shitting as I walk!
-Marcella
Tree
Barb, Messa, and Marcella are chained in a coffle and brought to the Cahokia Mounds Historic Site and enter the interpretative center (what the hell happened to the term ‘visitors’ center???).
As they enter from the 84°F and 94% relative humidity air outside the 70°F and dry air-conditioned air in the center make their nipples quite tumescent! Tree comes into the room and looks the three over. He lights a Marlboro and takes a drink from his glass. He says “You’ll look good crucified.”
“Fuck you, I may not be able to avoid being crucified but don’t expect me to carry my cross up the hill” Marcella barks practically spitting in anger. Tree nods to Gunner who locks her wrist behind her back in irons. He forces Marcella forward and makes her kneel before Tree.
In an angry voice Tree says “You will do what you are told to do and do it without question or my friend Primus will administer one hell of a scourging.”
“Do what the hell you want to me. I don’t give a shit” Marcella defiantly replied.
“Who said you were going to be whipped? Would you prefer to watch Barb or Messa get it” Tree asks.
These people are crazy! I look up at him and say “Don’t whip either! I’ll carry the damn thing.”
“You don’t have to” he replies.
“No, I will! Just don’t whip them” I plea.
He flicks his cigarette butt at me and lights up another. He says “Because they want you crucified before sunrise I’m paying Bull and Gunner time and a half so I don’t have the luxury of you three carrying your crosses. They are waiting for you on top the mound. You will all be crucified anyway. If one of you doesn’t follow orders the other two get flogged… and Barb, I have heard about your rebellious streak. If all three of you rebel I have some new cornus I am trying to get Nailus Martyrs to carry that will make you last at least another painful day on your cross. Do you understand?”
I don’t argue. As mad as I am I think I could kill this tall skinny guy but Bull and Gunner could break all three of us in half. It might be a good option but my head isn’t wrapped around dying just quite yet…
One of the trade-offs of not having to carry our crosses we are locked in irons that may weigh as much as the crosses we would have carried. Add that to the heavy chains that locks us in a coffle and even without shackles walking is difficult. There is a long walk from the building to the base of the mound on a gravel path. I bitch how bad my feet hurt but Messa at the front of the coffle says “This isn’t anything. Wait till Tree hammers the spikes through you.”
I don’t count the steps going up to the first tier of the mound but it has to be more than 100 made from weathered timber that feels no better under foot than the gravel! It is an eerie march as it is still dark and the portable generator-powered floodlights cast strong shadows as we climb. There is another shorter gravel path between the first set of stairs to the second set we will climb to our Golgotha and I am sore and tired already. The second stairs are shorter but somewhat steeper. We reach the top and walk over another gravel path to where the three crosses lay in wait for us.
I look done at the first one we pass that is lit as we are by four sets portable floodlights. I am surprised I can suppress shitting as I walk!
-Marcella
Tree