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Marcella Gets Tagged

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I’m well under two weeks to my crucifixion when I have yet another interview appointment. So far I have talked with Crux Chronicle, Vogue, Vanity Fair, Paris Match, and every TV network that I heard of and many more that I have not. I go to the café near my Chase penthouse. I wonder who this ‘yahoo cowboy’ in a straw cowboy hat reports for. It is warm so I peel of my wrap.

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His eyebrows rise and he says “That ain’t necessary, Marcella. I didn’t even bring a camera.”

“I’m used to it by now. Did you know nobody sells smokes around here- not even Madame Wu’s” I ask.

“They’re a pack of liberals” he replies adding “so you can’t do shit here!”

He tosses me a pack of Madame Wu’s and a gold plated Zippo lighter engraved with ‘THT’. I light one up. I’ve grown fond of them and ask “Who or what this ‘THT’?”

“You’re looking at him” he replies. “I’m the one that is going to…”

“Don’t you dare say that you are going to ‘mount me on a cross’” I nearly scream. “You are going to crucify me, you bastard!”

“You have most of that right except my parents were long since married when I was conceived” he replies.

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“The question remains ‘do you have any questions’.” Tree asks.

“What gives you right to do this to me” I demand.

“Ten thousand dollars for each of you and Messaline is even kicking in her “Messaline’s Premium French Crucifixion Wood™ just so you aren’t crucified on NW Arkansas fresh-cut cedar!”

I ask if I should be thankful for that and he assures me I will never be able to compare but I damn well should be!

“So I’ve done some looking… How much do you get for crucifying on the ‘Hill of 100 Crosses?”

“It ain’t happening there. RR Video Productions rented the Cahokia Mounds for a large sum of money and because the blue state of Illinois is flat-fucking broke the rodent could rent the State Historic Site for less than a million dollars” Tree replies.

I turn and look at him and ask “How can you crucify me with a clean conscience?

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“I drink to forget” he replies as he pours more Seagram’s in his glass…”

-Marcella

Tree

I doubt he even knows me...
-Marcella
 
“I can’t believe that you are going to crucify me at 9 AM week from Wednesday” I huff lighting up while another Madame Wu.

“Well, that is something I need to talk to you about” Tree says to me. “Since the Rodent rented the Cahokia Mound site and it has a feature called ‘Woodhenge’- sort of a wood version of Stonehenge- and that’s the summer solstice he want the three you crucified before the sun rises so the shadows of the three of you line up at sunrise so you’ll be crucified at 5 AM.”

“That’s fucking great… does Barb and Messa know about this? They haven’t said a word about it” I say.

“Bull and Gunner are telling them as we speak” he replies. “Do you have any more questions?”

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“Um, yeah… how long will it take for me to…” I begin to ask before my voice tails off.

“How long before you die” he says casual. “Usually between 48 and 72 hours- you’re young and in good shape so maybe a bit longer.”

I get up and grab some finger food. I get hunger when I smoke the Madame Wu’s. I sigh “I’ve got just ten days of freedom left.”
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-Marcella

I know things that will piss her off but decide not to trouble her any more at this point…

Tree
 
Marcella's night out:

Another night in the club bar. Should have gone with Barb and Messa to the hot tub. Got drunk again. What the fuck else is there to do. The clock is ticking down to my crucifixion. Just a couple of weeks away now.

version 1.jpg Why do I do this? Put myself on display like this. What a shameless cunt I am! Just a shameless condemned cunt, tagged, and awaiting crucifixion.

How many up-skirt shots are there of me? I lost count. I was drunk and didn’t give a shit. Just dancing my ass off! The music throbbing through me like it was trying to fuck me. I danced like some bitch demon-possessed. Maybe I am.

Hands all over me, feeling me up, wanting to tug at my tag. What the hell, I let them. Even posed with them – guys as well as girls – who wanted a pic with a condemned cunt. My pussy and my tag in every pic. They didn’t give a shit about my face. Just wanted my cunt in the image. I lost track of how many heads and faces were shoved between my thighs. Cocks too. At one point I was spread-eagled on a table, getting gang fucked! But I didn’t give a shit. I’m just a condemned cunt. What is there for me to do?
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Back in my room (somehow!) after the club closed. Did I remember a couple of guys carrying me back? I dunno. I just woke up lying on my back with my – you guessed it – legs spread apart. Cum oozing from my slit. Another night of alcohol drenched dreams. I’m crucified! I see myself on the cross. Screaming in agony. (Though I look pretty damn good!) Clearly I’m of two minds on this whole business.

It’s still dark outside. I sit up in the bed. I’m desperately thirsty. As I get to my feet my stomach suddenly turns over. A metallic taste in my mouth tells me I’m about to puke. I dash for the bathroom and heave into the toilet. After several minutes of retching and spitting I get to my feet and stumble into the kitchenette. Water! I need water! I drink several glasses, but too quickly. I heave it all up into the sink. Oh god! What a fucking mess I am. I get a ginger ale out of the fridge. That’ll calm my stomach down. I collapse into a chair by the dinette table and sip the ginger ale for a few minutes, then get another. My stomach has settled down.

I suddenly realize how badly I stink! I stand up and get my balance as the room spins a bit. I peel off my dress (that’s all I was wearing, you know) and stumble into the bathroom. I must brush my teeth for 10 minutes or so, propping myself up against the sink, trying to get the foul vomit taste out of my mouth. I the head for the shower stall. I stand under the streaming warm water for a few minutes as I begin to feel human again. My head is pounding! I lather up and rinse off with the shower wand in my hand. I direct a steady, pulsating stream of warm water between my legs, massaging my pussy. It feels so good, so comforting, and I get so horny! I spread my lips and direct the stream on my clit. Oh god!!!!! I get so aroused, so quickly! It's like a thousand tiny fingers stroking me. I lean against the stall and steady myself as my passion builds to the inevitable crescendo. Suddenly a huge orgasm rushes through me. I gasp, sucking in air as I drop down to the stall floor, my legs now like rubber. Lying on the floor of the stall, I continue to breathe in gasps as the pleasurable waves resonate through me. I’m so tired, so sleepy . . .

My eyes pop open. Shit! Did I fall asleep in the shower? The water is still running, filling the stall with steam. I slowly stand up and turn off the water. I towel off and step into the bedroom as I dry my hair. The air is cool and I shiver slightly. The sun is up. But the heavy curtains keep the room dark.


nude-girl-mirror.jpg I steady myself on wobbly legs and look at myself in the mirror. Not bad, I think. No, really, not bad at all. I’ve lost a few pounds these last months. A bit slimmer now. Damn, I do look pretty good! Sven had it all too good with me! I’ll look good on the cross too. I know it!

But as I look at myself in the mirror a wave a deep sadness and terror washes over me. Like it does every time I contemplate my fate. I’M GOING TO BE CRUCIFIED AND I DON’T FUCKING KNKOW WHY!”

I’m only 24 years old for fuck’s sake.! I’ve barely begun to live my life and it’ll soon be over. At times like this, when the terror of what’s going to happen overwhelms me, I wish I could just kill myself now and spare myself all the suffering. But I know I cannot. I’d be the worst sort of coward if I did. For, you see, every crucified cunt is warned in the strongest of terms that if she does kill herself, or even simply runs away to avoid dying on the cross, her family will be destroyed. Yes! Destroyed! In my case my father will lose his job and face financial ruin, as will my pervert of a brother (like I care about him!). But the worst part is the fate of my mother, sisters and every female cousin. They will be crucified in my place. Yes, they will be dragged from their homes, or from school, or from where they work, and summarily crucified in my place. All of them! The idea of this is just too horrible. My mother and sisters dying in my place! No! I could not do that to them. Never! I will just have to be brave and accept my fate so that my family can survive.

I look at my body closely in the mirror. The tag dangles, as it always does, between my thighs. Oh, that sensation is so wonderful! I gently tug on it. My flesh responds as warmth radiates throughout my pelvis. Why does this simple motion eroticize me so? I’m instantly wet! Again! My other hand goes to my breast. I cup my boob and squeeze the soft flesh. Not big tits, but nice and firm, well-shaped. I feel proud of them. I rub the nipple to tumescence as waves of pleasure course though me. I do have a fine body! But it will be dead in a grave all to soon!

I just think of all the things I’ll never do. I’ll never have children. I’ll never feel new life growing inside of me. I’ll never give birth or nurse a baby at my breast! I’ll never grow old with a husband and have grandchildren. Ever since I was tagged my life has been meaningless! I’m just a condemned cunt, condemned to die on a cross. The tears start streaming down my face as I stroke myself into another massive orgasm.

I’m lying on the floor, exhausted, my body still quivering. What the hell has happened to me? I’ve turned into some kind of slut who craves sex and can’t stop masturbating! I was never out of control like this before. I was a virgin until my senior year in college for fuck’s sake! But once I had my cherry popped I was craving sex as often as possible. Sven was just the guy for that. He knew how to fuck me like I loved to be fucked: hard and often! Anywhere. (Shit, we even did it at work a few times.) Maybe I was making up for lost time.

But where is Sven now? I need him. Or, rather, I need his cock, so fucking bad! I know Barb and Messa have something going on, and they were sweet to invite me to join them, but I was never interested that much in women. No! I need cock! I’m just a fucking condemned cunt who needs very badly to be fucked!

I get off the floor and throw on a bathrobe. I call room service and order breakfast. Of course, the guy who delivers it wants a picture of my tagged pussy. So, yeah, I open my robe as he takes a crack shot up between my legs. Hungry now, I wolf down the eggs, sausage and pancakes. The heavy meal on my empty stomach makes me immediately sleepy. I crawl back into bed and drift off to sleep immediately.
 
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