Both an interesting and exciting little turn of events...don't worry someone will come back eventually, right?
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Maria On The Cross
- Thread starter Eulalia
- Start date
Both an interesting and exciting little turn of events...don't worry someone will come back eventually, right?
The operative word being "eventually"
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Sorry Steffi, it took Pp all day to come back so, even though you don't know he is with you, you really are not alone. Pp is watching you squirm on your cross, hanging naked and helpless. He won't help you so you will have to accept what is happening and endure it, all of it, everything.
Barb will be pleased to know that someone came back.....
I was hanging still, surrendered to the cross. My arms were aching, my shoulders too, it was becoming more and more unbearable by the minute. But I was enduring it, I couldn’t help it, I just had to endure, whether I liked it or not. In my mind a small whirlwind of emotions was raging. I was confused as I’ve never been before. I was suffering, I was in pain. No big pain, but it hurt. And I liked that – yes, and how! It was driving me mad, I was enjoying the torment. But that’s crazy! How could that be?!
I relaxed on the cross, danced with slow movements to ease the pain in my arms and shoulders. My wrists ached, and my ankles a bit, where the ropes held me tight. I felt the smooth wood of the footrest beneath my bare soles. I felt the wood of the cross against my butt and my shoulders. I was firmly attached to the great cross, inseparably united with the wood. I was doomed to suffer. The others had gone, God alone knew when they’d reappear to set me free, so I had to put up with it.
It had captured me totally, the pain. I never could admit it to anyone, not even to myself. But wasn’t it at the heart of the crazy fantasies I’ve had since I reached puberty? Hadn’t I run these wild movies in the cinema in my head, where I was a disobedient slavegirl being punished? A young girl captured by pirates? The youthful Baroness, who’d fallen into the clutches of robbers in the forest? In all the little movies, it always turned out the same – they handcuffed me, they tied me to a ship-mast or a tree in the forest, I was chained to the wall in a gloomy dungeon, or exhibited in public, in shackles or chains of course. Often, all too often, that wasn’t all that I had done to me in these little fantasy films, yes, they played with me in other ways…. When I think about it now, I turn bright red.
Moaning softly, I stretched myself on the cross. I tugged at my bonds and fought against them with relish. In my wild fantasies I’ve always been tied up or clamped in irons for an extremely long time, until it really hurt, and I was begging and whining pitifully to God for mercy, which was of course never granted me. Over time, new ideas came to me, about canes and riding crops and leather straps...
Yes, I’ve long wished to be forced to endure pain, but I’ve never been able to say it out loud in real life, not even now. Had my classmates still been present, I’d have gone to great lengths not to let them know that the crucifixion was beginning to hurt me, and I certainly wouldn’t let on that I was enjoying it, that it was exciting me beyond all measure.
I tried to tilt my head back, but the wooden upright prevented me. I hauled myself up with all my strength on my bondage, and arched my back, thrusting my pelvis forward. Then I let myself fall back and sink quietly for a while on my arms, until I had to press with my knees to lift myself up a little. Again and again I moaned loudly. As long as no one was there, I didn’t restrain myself. My excitement was growing by the minute, in my sex it tingled pleasantly. If the others stay away for a long time, so I could suffer quietly by myself, I’ll love it – it’s hurting, and it’s good!
I relaxed on the cross, danced with slow movements to ease the pain in my arms and shoulders. My wrists ached, and my ankles a bit, where the ropes held me tight. I felt the smooth wood of the footrest beneath my bare soles. I felt the wood of the cross against my butt and my shoulders. I was firmly attached to the great cross, inseparably united with the wood. I was doomed to suffer. The others had gone, God alone knew when they’d reappear to set me free, so I had to put up with it.
It had captured me totally, the pain. I never could admit it to anyone, not even to myself. But wasn’t it at the heart of the crazy fantasies I’ve had since I reached puberty? Hadn’t I run these wild movies in the cinema in my head, where I was a disobedient slavegirl being punished? A young girl captured by pirates? The youthful Baroness, who’d fallen into the clutches of robbers in the forest? In all the little movies, it always turned out the same – they handcuffed me, they tied me to a ship-mast or a tree in the forest, I was chained to the wall in a gloomy dungeon, or exhibited in public, in shackles or chains of course. Often, all too often, that wasn’t all that I had done to me in these little fantasy films, yes, they played with me in other ways…. When I think about it now, I turn bright red.
Moaning softly, I stretched myself on the cross. I tugged at my bonds and fought against them with relish. In my wild fantasies I’ve always been tied up or clamped in irons for an extremely long time, until it really hurt, and I was begging and whining pitifully to God for mercy, which was of course never granted me. Over time, new ideas came to me, about canes and riding crops and leather straps...
Yes, I’ve long wished to be forced to endure pain, but I’ve never been able to say it out loud in real life, not even now. Had my classmates still been present, I’d have gone to great lengths not to let them know that the crucifixion was beginning to hurt me, and I certainly wouldn’t let on that I was enjoying it, that it was exciting me beyond all measure.
I tried to tilt my head back, but the wooden upright prevented me. I hauled myself up with all my strength on my bondage, and arched my back, thrusting my pelvis forward. Then I let myself fall back and sink quietly for a while on my arms, until I had to press with my knees to lift myself up a little. Again and again I moaned loudly. As long as no one was there, I didn’t restrain myself. My excitement was growing by the minute, in my sex it tingled pleasantly. If the others stay away for a long time, so I could suffer quietly by myself, I’ll love it – it’s hurting, and it’s good!
Yes, Steffi hasn't noticed the wee lens high up on the opposite wall...
Father Abbot has to keep an eye on all that goes on his monastery
(and Pp has access to the monastic computer system
)
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Pp is growing quite excited along with Steffi. He is happy to watch her, unseen, and hopes her friends don't return just yet.
I nicked this pic from Phlebas, it seems to be one of Steffi in her present predicament....Outside in the hallway, footsteps approaching…! I heard the soft pad of thin-soled slippers, they were approaching the door to our dorm. I swallowed. Slippers with soles? The girls were barefoot, all five of them! I knew that for sure. Whoever’s out there isn’t one of our gang. Let them go past, I prayed fervently in my mind…
Calm down, Stephanie, said a little voice in my head. It’s someone from one of the neighboring rooms, they won’t come in here, why should they? They’ll go to their own room and get what they need - maybe they need to change a tampon or to get some tissues. Take it easy, Steffi, calm down.
I let myself sink looser on the wrist-bondage. The footsteps stopped directly outside our bedroom. The door opened. My heart leapt with a giant vault, I was stiff with fright. Someone had opened the door, the door to our bedroom…
"Hello? Anyone in?"
That was the voice of Miss Rosenthal! My stomach clenched into a hot ball. My history teacher was standing in the doorway, I was beginning to sweat.
"Is anyone here?"
Why do you ask such silly questions? You can see the room’s empty! Or do you think someone’s hiding under the bed? Stupid woman! Go away!
I hung frozen on the cross. I had to struggle with all my might to suppress a whimper. I was beside myself with fear. If Rosenthal’s got the idea of coming into the room! My eyes fell on the window. One was open. Outside, a strong wind was blowing, a thunderstorm’s approaching. Because of the open door, it’s beginning to blow through. What if Rosenthal comes up with the idea of closing the window so rain won’t get in?
I began to tremble, all of a sudden I was acutely aware of my nudity, I was stark naked and tied to the cross - naked! Oh God! If Rosenthal sees me…!
Please go away, I pleaded inwardly. My heart was beating wildly, blood roaring in my ears, I was beside myself with agitation and fear of being discovered. Please go, Miss! Please!
Soft slippers on the parquet floor – she’s coming in! She’s coming into the room! I tugged at my wrist-ropes and tried with all my might to pull my feet out of the slings. I fought desperately, though I knew it was utterly futile, I couldn’t get away, I was much too tightly tied.
Footsteps approached, quietly prowling, hunting for something, so it seemed to me. Rosenthal’s sneaking up on me… Oh no! Please don’t!
I tried to disappear into the wood of the cross. My teacher’s heading towards the window, she only has to turn her head to the left and she’ll see me – a girl who just happens to be naked and tied onto a cross, that’s how she’ll see me…
My trembling intensified, I no longer had any control of myself, with the last of my strength I held back a loud gasp. The footsteps came closer…
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Even if Miss Rosenthal doesn't here the naked dancing Steffi he is absolutely sure she will hear his heart thumping!
yes, Messaline, I think we've all had some narrow escapes - or even embarrassing moments.... 
"These girls," Rosenthal sounded indignant, "they know perfectly well there's likely to be a thunderstorm and they leave the windows gaping wide open! And Father Abbot made a special point of it at dinner-time, he said they must be closed."
The steps of my teacher came closer. I gave up hope, with a slight sound, I let myself sink on my bondage and closed my eyes, it was all I could do.
It was out. It had happened to me. Miss Rosenthal was looking at me. I didn’t know what I’d say when she asked me what I was doing, I didn’t know anything more. In my mind thoughts were racing back and forth like scared chickens when the fox breaks into the barn.
It was out.
"Terrible," growled Miss Rosenthal. I heard her shut the window and lock it. "Eighteen, nineteen years old, and they act like silly little kids!"
My history teacher was pissed off. She was, incidentally, also my PE teacher. And she’s going to be my inquisitor-teacher, my torture-me-to-talk-teacher, my shame-me-to-death-teacher. I tried to make myself sink into the oak-wood of the cross, I tried to disappear behind the dark stained grain. I wanted to make myself invisible. Alas, no way. I kept my eyes shut, that was all I could do to shut out the reality. I was close to tears.
It was very quiet in the bedroom. Nothing could be heard. Is she still standing at the windows? If she turns around to the left to go back to the door, she’s got to see me. If she turns the other way, I’ll be hidden from her sight. My chances are exactly fifty-fifty. Pretty bad cards, Stephanie - really bad deal for you, you crucified naked girl, bad, bad, very bad, ultra-bad, mega bad, even hellishly bad just isn’t close...
The seconds dragged on endlessly. Is Miss Rosenthal standing at the window and looking at me? Or what is she looking at? At the sky with the approaching storm because it’s an interesting spectacle? I know it is, the clouds take on the most amazing colours and shapes, I enjoy watching when a storm’s impending...
You’re trying to comfort yourself, whispered the voice in my head, you know she isn’t looking out of the window – she’s standing six feet away from you and staring at you, Stephanie! You need only open your eyes, then you’ll meet her disbelieving look. Go on! Open your eyes! She’s going to speak to you anyway, look at her!
I couldn’t, I didn’t have the strength to open my eyes, I had no strength left in me. I was limp with terror and horror, I couldn’t pull myself up on my bonds, I was hanging on the cross like a wet sack, I was sweating and shaking like a racehorse, my heart was pounding in my throat. I went on praying in silence that my history teacher might disappear – please, God...
The time stretched to infinity. How long had Rosenthal been standing at the window? Three minutes? Five? Or was it just five seconds? Eight seconds? Half a minute? I didn’t know, time had lost all meaning for me. I was feeling no more pain, the terror and anxiety totally anaesthetised me. My heart was thundering so loudly, surely she can hear it? The blood roared in my ears, my head was ringing...
She’s found me. I’m caught. Miss Rosenthal’s seen me. Sure…
"These girls," Rosenthal sounded indignant, "they know perfectly well there's likely to be a thunderstorm and they leave the windows gaping wide open! And Father Abbot made a special point of it at dinner-time, he said they must be closed."
The steps of my teacher came closer. I gave up hope, with a slight sound, I let myself sink on my bondage and closed my eyes, it was all I could do.
It was out. It had happened to me. Miss Rosenthal was looking at me. I didn’t know what I’d say when she asked me what I was doing, I didn’t know anything more. In my mind thoughts were racing back and forth like scared chickens when the fox breaks into the barn.
It was out.
"Terrible," growled Miss Rosenthal. I heard her shut the window and lock it. "Eighteen, nineteen years old, and they act like silly little kids!"
My history teacher was pissed off. She was, incidentally, also my PE teacher. And she’s going to be my inquisitor-teacher, my torture-me-to-talk-teacher, my shame-me-to-death-teacher. I tried to make myself sink into the oak-wood of the cross, I tried to disappear behind the dark stained grain. I wanted to make myself invisible. Alas, no way. I kept my eyes shut, that was all I could do to shut out the reality. I was close to tears.
It was very quiet in the bedroom. Nothing could be heard. Is she still standing at the windows? If she turns around to the left to go back to the door, she’s got to see me. If she turns the other way, I’ll be hidden from her sight. My chances are exactly fifty-fifty. Pretty bad cards, Stephanie - really bad deal for you, you crucified naked girl, bad, bad, very bad, ultra-bad, mega bad, even hellishly bad just isn’t close...
The seconds dragged on endlessly. Is Miss Rosenthal standing at the window and looking at me? Or what is she looking at? At the sky with the approaching storm because it’s an interesting spectacle? I know it is, the clouds take on the most amazing colours and shapes, I enjoy watching when a storm’s impending...
You’re trying to comfort yourself, whispered the voice in my head, you know she isn’t looking out of the window – she’s standing six feet away from you and staring at you, Stephanie! You need only open your eyes, then you’ll meet her disbelieving look. Go on! Open your eyes! She’s going to speak to you anyway, look at her!
I couldn’t, I didn’t have the strength to open my eyes, I had no strength left in me. I was limp with terror and horror, I couldn’t pull myself up on my bonds, I was hanging on the cross like a wet sack, I was sweating and shaking like a racehorse, my heart was pounding in my throat. I went on praying in silence that my history teacher might disappear – please, God...
The time stretched to infinity. How long had Rosenthal been standing at the window? Three minutes? Five? Or was it just five seconds? Eight seconds? Half a minute? I didn’t know, time had lost all meaning for me. I was feeling no more pain, the terror and anxiety totally anaesthetised me. My heart was thundering so loudly, surely she can hear it? The blood roared in my ears, my head was ringing...
She’s found me. I’m caught. Miss Rosenthal’s seen me. Sure…
yes, Messaline, I think we've all had some narrow escapes - or even embarrassing moments....
"These girls," Rosenthal sounded indignant, "they know perfectly well there's likely to be a thunderstorm and they leave the windows gaping wide open! And Father Abbot made a special point of it at dinner-time, he said they must be closed."
The steps of my teacher came closer. I gave up hope, with a slight sound, I let myself sink on my bondage and closed my eyes, it was all I could do.
It was out. It had happened to me. Miss Rosenthal was looking at me. I didn’t know what I’d say when she asked me what I was doing, I didn’t know anything more. In my mind thoughts were racing back and forth like scared chickens when the fox breaks into the barn.
It was out.
"Terrible," growled Miss Rosenthal. I heard her shut the window and lock it. "Eighteen, nineteen years old, and they act like silly little kids!"
My history teacher was pissed off. She was, incidentally, also my PE teacher. And she’s going to be my inquisitor-teacher, my torture-me-to-talk-teacher, my shame-me-to-death-teacher. I tried to make myself sink into the oak-wood of the cross, I tried to disappear behind the dark stained grain. I wanted to make myself invisible. Alas, no way. I kept my eyes shut, that was all I could do to shut out the reality. I was close to tears.
It was very quiet in the bedroom. Nothing could be heard. Is she still standing at the windows? If she turns around to the left to go back to the door, she’s got to see me. If she turns the other way, I’ll be hidden from her sight. My chances are exactly fifty-fifty. Pretty bad cards, Stephanie - really bad deal for you, you crucified naked girl, bad, bad, very bad, ultra-bad, mega bad, even hellishly bad just isn’t close...
The seconds dragged on endlessly. Is Miss Rosenthal standing at the window and looking at me? Or what is she looking at? At the sky with the approaching storm because it’s an interesting spectacle? I know it is, the clouds take on the most amazing colours and shapes, I enjoy watching when a storm’s impending...
You’re trying to comfort yourself, whispered the voice in my head, you know she isn’t looking out of the window – she’s standing six feet away from you and staring at you, Stephanie! You need only open your eyes, then you’ll meet her disbelieving look. Go on! Open your eyes! She’s going to speak to you anyway, look at her!
I couldn’t, I didn’t have the strength to open my eyes, I had no strength left in me. I was limp with terror and horror, I couldn’t pull myself up on my bonds, I was hanging on the cross like a wet sack, I was sweating and shaking like a racehorse, my heart was pounding in my throat. I went on praying in silence that my history teacher might disappear – please, God...
The time stretched to infinity. How long had Rosenthal been standing at the window? Three minutes? Five? Or was it just five seconds? Eight seconds? Half a minute? I didn’t know, time had lost all meaning for me. I was feeling no more pain, the terror and anxiety totally anaesthetised me. My heart was thundering so loudly, surely she can hear it? The blood roared in my ears, my head was ringing...
She’s found me. I’m caught. Miss Rosenthal’s seen me. Sure…
Yes, reading this has made me all fidgety and nervous .... the tension is palpable.
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Pp will make sure he takes a newspaper with him when he boards another flight this afternoon.....he will make sure the paper is draped across his lap in case he dozes.....his heavy breathing is dangerous enough and he would not want to know he had embarrassed even one hostess.yes, Messaline, I think we've all had some narrow escapes - or even embarrassing moments....
"These girls," Rosenthal sounded indignant, "they know perfectly well there's likely to be a thunderstorm and they leave the windows gaping wide open! And Father Abbot made a special point of it at dinner-time, he said they must be closed."
The steps of my teacher came closer. I gave up hope, with a slight sound, I let myself sink on my bondage and closed my eyes, it was all I could do.
It was out. It had happened to me. Miss Rosenthal was looking at me. I didn’t know what I’d say when she asked me what I was doing, I didn’t know anything more. In my mind thoughts were racing back and forth like scared chickens when the fox breaks into the barn.
It was out.
"Terrible," growled Miss Rosenthal. I heard her shut the window and lock it. "Eighteen, nineteen years old, and they act like silly little kids!"
My history teacher was pissed off. She was, incidentally, also my PE teacher. And she’s going to be my inquisitor-teacher, my torture-me-to-talk-teacher, my shame-me-to-death-teacher. I tried to make myself sink into the oak-wood of the cross, I tried to disappear behind the dark stained grain. I wanted to make myself invisible. Alas, no way. I kept my eyes shut, that was all I could do to shut out the reality. I was close to tears.
It was very quiet in the bedroom. Nothing could be heard. Is she still standing at the windows? If she turns around to the left to go back to the door, she’s got to see me. If she turns the other way, I’ll be hidden from her sight. My chances are exactly fifty-fifty. Pretty bad cards, Stephanie - really bad deal for you, you crucified naked girl, bad, bad, very bad, ultra-bad, mega bad, even hellishly bad just isn’t close...
The seconds dragged on endlessly. Is Miss Rosenthal standing at the window and looking at me? Or what is she looking at? At the sky with the approaching storm because it’s an interesting spectacle? I know it is, the clouds take on the most amazing colours and shapes, I enjoy watching when a storm’s impending...
You’re trying to comfort yourself, whispered the voice in my head, you know she isn’t looking out of the window – she’s standing six feet away from you and staring at you, Stephanie! You need only open your eyes, then you’ll meet her disbelieving look. Go on! Open your eyes! She’s going to speak to you anyway, look at her!
I couldn’t, I didn’t have the strength to open my eyes, I had no strength left in me. I was limp with terror and horror, I couldn’t pull myself up on my bonds, I was hanging on the cross like a wet sack, I was sweating and shaking like a racehorse, my heart was pounding in my throat. I went on praying in silence that my history teacher might disappear – please, God...
The time stretched to infinity. How long had Rosenthal been standing at the window? Three minutes? Five? Or was it just five seconds? Eight seconds? Half a minute? I didn’t know, time had lost all meaning for me. I was feeling no more pain, the terror and anxiety totally anaesthetised me. My heart was thundering so loudly, surely she can hear it? The blood roared in my ears, my head was ringing...
She’s found me. I’m caught. Miss Rosenthal’s seen me. Sure…
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
He is very glad to see all of you dear.
Not one that has serviced Pp on his flights in the past but he is most pleased Tree has rostered her on this afternoon.
Quiet footsteps receding. "These girls," my teacher sounded grumpy, "tsk, tsk!" With a gentle thud the door closed, I slumped, whimpering, then I groaned loud and long. Rosenthal was gone - God in heaven be thanked! Thankyou for the storm-winds, thankyou for the thundercloud in all its great colours, I hope the spectacle outside the window pleased you, Miss Rosenthal. She hadn’t seen the spectacle inside the dormitory - me. It was a small miracle, but it was the truth. I cried with relief, for a few minutes I just hung quietly sobbing on the cross, until at leangth I calmed down and my heart was no longer beating like crazy.
Gradually I came to myself. When I was clear again in my head, the pain came back, I was feeling my bondage now very intensely, especially the ropes on my wrists. How long had I been on the cross? I had no idea.
But no sooner had I calmed down, than I again heard steps on the landing. I tensed up. Then I registered the gentle patter of bare feet, someone approaching the dorm at a run. Barefoot, not leather sandals. I calmed down. It had to be one of my room-mates running down the corridor. The door flew open and was hastily closed again, bare feet padded softly across the floor towards me.
I looked to my right. It was Maria. Oh God, Maria! You wouldn’t believe how glad I am to see you! I couldn’t speak, my throat was seized up, I could only stare at her.
She moved the stool directly in front of the cross and stepped up on it. She stood before me smiling. She was a bit shorter than me – small and dainty like a doll. Her eyes seemed to want to eat me. Suddenly her hands came up, her fingertips wandered gently over my breasts, they were immediately covered with goose bumps, my nipples stood out and were firm and hard, I couldn’t suppress a soft moan.
"We have to stay here the rest of the week, Steffi," she said softly, "we’ve just had a talk down in the hall, we can’t stay at Rosenstolz Castle, they’ve had problems with flooding, the river’s burst its banks, ‘cos it’s been raining in the Czech Republic for a fortnight – at least, that's how I understood it, anyway."
Maria's fingers stroked me everywhere, I thrilled in pleasure, it was an incredibly delicious, intense, yet calm feeling, being given up to the cross to hang naked, and to be delivered defenceless into the caressing hands of a sweet girl.
"We have to stay here in the monastery," she went on, kneading gently over my hips. I shivered with pleasure, she grinned cheekily... "But that means that soon we'll run out of places to visit, so we’ll just visit one site each day, in the mornings." Her hands ran over my abdomen and upwards back to my breasts, I reacted eagerly to their welcome contact.
Maria looked at me intently, "We’ll have the afternoons free, Steffi," she smiled, "we’ll have plenty of time to experiment with the bondage - each one of us should get several turns, I think."
Suddenly she leaned against me and hugged me, "That's nice, Stephanie," she breathed, I could feel her rapid heartbeat, "so beautiful – I’m so looking forward to it, it's a wonderful feeling, being tied up -" she looked at me seriously, "eh, Steff?"
I could only nod dumbly, I couldn’t speak. Yes Maria, it is wonderful, I love it.
Gradually I came to myself. When I was clear again in my head, the pain came back, I was feeling my bondage now very intensely, especially the ropes on my wrists. How long had I been on the cross? I had no idea.
But no sooner had I calmed down, than I again heard steps on the landing. I tensed up. Then I registered the gentle patter of bare feet, someone approaching the dorm at a run. Barefoot, not leather sandals. I calmed down. It had to be one of my room-mates running down the corridor. The door flew open and was hastily closed again, bare feet padded softly across the floor towards me.
I looked to my right. It was Maria. Oh God, Maria! You wouldn’t believe how glad I am to see you! I couldn’t speak, my throat was seized up, I could only stare at her.
She moved the stool directly in front of the cross and stepped up on it. She stood before me smiling. She was a bit shorter than me – small and dainty like a doll. Her eyes seemed to want to eat me. Suddenly her hands came up, her fingertips wandered gently over my breasts, they were immediately covered with goose bumps, my nipples stood out and were firm and hard, I couldn’t suppress a soft moan.
"We have to stay here the rest of the week, Steffi," she said softly, "we’ve just had a talk down in the hall, we can’t stay at Rosenstolz Castle, they’ve had problems with flooding, the river’s burst its banks, ‘cos it’s been raining in the Czech Republic for a fortnight – at least, that's how I understood it, anyway."
Maria's fingers stroked me everywhere, I thrilled in pleasure, it was an incredibly delicious, intense, yet calm feeling, being given up to the cross to hang naked, and to be delivered defenceless into the caressing hands of a sweet girl.
"We have to stay here in the monastery," she went on, kneading gently over my hips. I shivered with pleasure, she grinned cheekily... "But that means that soon we'll run out of places to visit, so we’ll just visit one site each day, in the mornings." Her hands ran over my abdomen and upwards back to my breasts, I reacted eagerly to their welcome contact.
Maria looked at me intently, "We’ll have the afternoons free, Steffi," she smiled, "we’ll have plenty of time to experiment with the bondage - each one of us should get several turns, I think."
Suddenly she leaned against me and hugged me, "That's nice, Stephanie," she breathed, I could feel her rapid heartbeat, "so beautiful – I’m so looking forward to it, it's a wonderful feeling, being tied up -" she looked at me seriously, "eh, Steff?"
I could only nod dumbly, I couldn’t speak. Yes Maria, it is wonderful, I love it.
Really, Eul, I am beginning to question the wisdom of the prisoner exchange in the 'rebellion' thread after that tease....
Tree
Tree
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Pp's withdrawal from his addiction to the drug that was Doro and Lisette has never been completely cured and now he finds that he has a growing addiction to Maria, Steffi and the gal pals.
Wonderful work Eul.
sadly, more cold turkey's approaching... 
Maria kissed me gently on the mouth. Her nimble tongue forced my lips apart and penetrated me, demanding me, I was hers, I gave myself up completely to her kiss. Her left hand was holding my hair, her right hand roaming across my abdomen and slipping down between my legs. When her fingers explored my rut, I groaned.
Outside, the dull pounding of bare feet came towards our room. Maria let go of me.
“No! Go on!”, I cried aloud greedily, I was aroused to the highest pitch of intensity, please Maria, don’t stop, keep going, please…
She smiled at me knowingly and jumped off the stool. She drew it aside, grabbed a chair, sat on it and looked up at me. The door flew open and the rest of the gang burst into the bedroom. They came straight to the alcove where I was hanging naked on the cross.
"Oh, it's still there!" cried Sophie, as if she were amazed – did they expect I’d have hopped off in their absence, taking the cross with me, leapt out of the window and flown away?
"Have you told her?" Sophie nudged Maria.
"Hm," Maria nodded and looked at me. Their eyes swept over my naked body. Maria gazed and gazed.
"Rosenthal noticed you were missing, " Sophie said, "she wanted to know if you were suffering from Montezuma's Revenge."
They all laughed, I did too.
"Come on, we’ll get Steffi down," ordered Sophie, "she’s endured long enough. We can go on crucifying in turns until lights out – let’s get her untied."
She pushed a chair under the crossbar. Maria pushed her under the other side of the beam. Below, Janina untied my ankle-bonds. When I was allowed to get down freely off the cross, I was glad to be rid of the ropes at last, by the end they’d pressed painfully, I’d been hurting hideously.
I threw Maria a shy glance, my pussy was still burning with excitement - oh why had the others come back so soon?! I could still feel her slender fingers in my cunt.
Natalie grabbed my wrists, "You’ve got great print-marks from the ropes, Steffi," she said admiring them, "Maybe I'll soon have bracelets like those!”
"We'll see," said Sophie, "we’ll draw lots for the order we’ll go in, then each girl will get her turn to be crucified."
What an announcement! Sophie had just spoken it, one of us girls will be crucified each day, as if it were a totally normal procedure. I was entranced - a whole week we’ll stay in this monastery, I’m destined to be bound to the cross for a second time myself, what a wonderful idea!
While Sophie scribbled our names on little scraps of paper, I threw Maria a glance, she smiled at me knowingly. She knew exactly what I was thinking.
THE END
Maria kissed me gently on the mouth. Her nimble tongue forced my lips apart and penetrated me, demanding me, I was hers, I gave myself up completely to her kiss. Her left hand was holding my hair, her right hand roaming across my abdomen and slipping down between my legs. When her fingers explored my rut, I groaned.
Outside, the dull pounding of bare feet came towards our room. Maria let go of me.
“No! Go on!”, I cried aloud greedily, I was aroused to the highest pitch of intensity, please Maria, don’t stop, keep going, please…
She smiled at me knowingly and jumped off the stool. She drew it aside, grabbed a chair, sat on it and looked up at me. The door flew open and the rest of the gang burst into the bedroom. They came straight to the alcove where I was hanging naked on the cross.
"Oh, it's still there!" cried Sophie, as if she were amazed – did they expect I’d have hopped off in their absence, taking the cross with me, leapt out of the window and flown away?
"Have you told her?" Sophie nudged Maria.
"Hm," Maria nodded and looked at me. Their eyes swept over my naked body. Maria gazed and gazed.
"Rosenthal noticed you were missing, " Sophie said, "she wanted to know if you were suffering from Montezuma's Revenge."
They all laughed, I did too.
"Come on, we’ll get Steffi down," ordered Sophie, "she’s endured long enough. We can go on crucifying in turns until lights out – let’s get her untied."
She pushed a chair under the crossbar. Maria pushed her under the other side of the beam. Below, Janina untied my ankle-bonds. When I was allowed to get down freely off the cross, I was glad to be rid of the ropes at last, by the end they’d pressed painfully, I’d been hurting hideously.
I threw Maria a shy glance, my pussy was still burning with excitement - oh why had the others come back so soon?! I could still feel her slender fingers in my cunt.
Natalie grabbed my wrists, "You’ve got great print-marks from the ropes, Steffi," she said admiring them, "Maybe I'll soon have bracelets like those!”
"We'll see," said Sophie, "we’ll draw lots for the order we’ll go in, then each girl will get her turn to be crucified."
What an announcement! Sophie had just spoken it, one of us girls will be crucified each day, as if it were a totally normal procedure. I was entranced - a whole week we’ll stay in this monastery, I’m destined to be bound to the cross for a second time myself, what a wonderful idea!
While Sophie scribbled our names on little scraps of paper, I threw Maria a glance, she smiled at me knowingly. She knew exactly what I was thinking.
THE END