A woman is writhing away on the Saint Andrew's Cross. She sees her crucifier lustily stroking and fondling his member, getting his jollies at her predicament.
"P..PIG!" she exclaims.
"Oh," replies the crucifier, "That's not nice...I was working up my boner to stick it in you and take some pressure of yor crotch..."
"Yeah...right...your little wee-wee taking pressure off of my crotch..."
The crucifier drops trou. Even in all her agony, the woman has to admit that he has the biggest, longest, stiffest, hardest dick she ever saw in her life. Just as she begins to appreciate it, her crucifier interrupts.
"...but, if all I'm going to get for trying be nice is insulted, I might as well just cum on your face and then go looking for the sports pages."
"No! No! No! Stick it in me!"
"What's the magic word?"
"Please..."
"No, I meant that magic word apologsing for what you just said about my 'wee-wee'"
"That's...two words."
"Okay, if you want to be a smartass, you can just hang in there. Its playoff time and I missed a good game crucifying you."
"I'm...s-sorry..."
"Good girl!"
The crucifier sticks his dick into the woman. She finds he is right. His large stiff dick does relieve some of the weight and gravity...it also evokes something else in her...
"C'mon, don't cum now! If you cum, I'll come...my dick will lose pressure and no longer hold you up."
The woman's agony is now magnified a thousand fold. Not only does she sill have a lot of weight and gravity bearing down on her crotch to deal with, but now, she also has to force 90% of her energy fighting herself, fighting her body's powerful urge to cum with her labia squeezing his dick until he comes.
The crucifier does not make it easy for her. He kisses her cheek, licks and sucks her nipples, tells her how beautiful she is. When she curses him out, he threatens to withdraw, which forces an apology, adding the psychological humiliation of degradation to all her other agonies.
Finally, she can hold herself no more and she comes in an explosive supernova of an orgasm.
She wakes up, wrists and ankles bound loosely to a bed. She feels dazed, realising that she has been given a painkiller.
"Morning, sunshine!" her curcifier says.
The woman looks at him begrudgingly.
"Thank you...for being so...merciful."
"No need to thank me."
"Huh?
"I popped a viagra before stroking off in front of you. Even after you came, my hard-on lasted for an hour."
The woman makes to leap off the bed and claw out her crucifier's eyes, the ropes bound to her wrists and ankles pulling her back and magnifying her impotent rage. The crucifier smiles and walks away. The woman continues to thrash about about free herself from her bindings, failing each time. But with each frustrated, rage-enhancing attempt, a strange but not unwelcome sensation develops in her crotch. Each time, it becomes more and more powerful, until she supernovas into another orgams and passes out.
From that moment on, all the woman has to do is think of that time and, seconds later, her body and the walls and air around her are rocked by a powerful orgasm.