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Troubles for Queen Deborah
- Thread starter thehangingtree
- Start date
This is how it works on Crux Forums.
1. Girls die (in various ways, but usually on a cross or gallows)
2. Jollyrei comes along and picks them up and dusts them down.
3. Jollyrei takes them to Coffee Shop.
4. Eul grinds them a special brew of coffee laced with 'Polly Perkins Potion'
5. Girl recovers.
6. Girl is crucified (or whatever)
7. Return to stage 1.
Ask Barb. She's been round this loop more times than I've had hot dinners.
The reality of crucifixion has rudely asserted itself upon Debbie. She is no longer the polished and regal queen of Lesbia. Debbie is just one of the dozen or so people nailed to their cross on the Hill of Death. The concerns over her modesty have faded to the pain of having her body stretched between nailed wrists or trying to rise on her broken feet. Instead of a stately queen Debbie is just a woman trying futilely to ease her pain and escape her cross. She is more a wild injured animal desperately wanting to be freed from her agony.
Though she may not appreciate the thought she puts on quite a show the first hours of her crucifixion.
I have seen enough crucifixions to know it is a brutal way to execute someone. I would watch usually from my terrace. Science had developed a looking glass that even from a distance I could see the tormented faces of those my court or I have damned to die crucified. Rarely would I go to the Hill of Death knowing what a vile place it is to die. The stench was awful and I made appearances only to make a point of the severity of the punishment that the prisoner is suffering. The last time I was here was to Barbara Moore as she died on her cross. I remember taking care of my needs after seeing Barbara suffer so brutally on my decree.
Now I hang crucified to the same cross Barbara hanged from. What I had imagined this would feel like is nothing like it really feels like now that I am nailed to cross. I am being torn apart by the cross as the three spikes hold me above the crowd below. The spikes in my wrists pry against my bones with any move I make while the spike through my feet grinds against the shattered bones in my feet. I feel my heart pounding in my chest as my ribs press against it.
Below me what were faithful loyal subjects berate me as the crucified whore I have become. I reply with a hoarse voice curses I do not even know the meaning of. I believe the evil of the cross has entered me through the spikes that bind me to it!
I have been crucified but half a day and the cross tortures me in ways I never imagined. My body is stretched as I never thought it could be yet I fear I am no near death. This torment will last a long time.
Below the hill I see my palace. On the terrace is the man who nailed me to this cross and a woman that could be Messaline wearing one of my fuchsia night gowns. Could she not even wait until I am dead?
-Debbie
Tree is in his normal state coherence (he is completely drunk) as he talks to Messaline.
“Well, Queen Deborah is crucified. I’m told she had fantasies of being hanged naked before her people. I hope she likes her ride” Tree says.
Messaline is damn near livid saying “I can’t believe you crucified her on a second hand cross! She is- or was- a queen!”
“Quit bitching, Messa” Tree replies. “It is still premium French crucifixion wood and it is the same cross she executed Barbara Moore on. The bitch is getting what she deserves.”
Messa thinks a few minutes and says “You have done well, Tree. Tie me to the cross in the bedroom and use me how you like.”
There are no known pictures of this encounter…
I hang as a condemned bitch. The pain does not subside yet death is nowhere near ending my suffering. My body smells like a well-used whore and sweat covers my flesh.
I am displayed like a common criminal crucified to suffer the ravages of the cross. I hate the pain. I hate the boredom. I hate the abuse I receive from the thinning but still enthusiastic mob enjoying my suffering. I am dying in agonizing ecstasy. I am meat nailed to wood for my death and their entertainment. I have another orgasm.
The sun has set and sky is darkening. With any luck I will die soon but I think that is just being wishful. My cross rattles as a ladder is slammed against the back of it. I feel a large man climb up behind me. It turns out to be Archer. He toys with my hair and says “It’s a shame I did not get to take your virginity. At least I can watch you suffer through the night.”
The night is nothing I have considered. The thought of hanging on the cross in the dark chills me even in this warm air. I beg him “Kill me now!”
He laughs and says “Why would I do that after doing all the work to crucify you? Enjoy the ride, cunt!”
The darkness of night falls. I can see the lights from my city below. Not far away is a bonfire where a few guards drink spirits and casually snack. Occasionally I hear them laugh about something but I can’t hear what they say. The guards are here to insure that none of us are rescued. If we die in tonight that is our problem or perhaps relief. I am alone nailed to my cross. The only thing I feel is unending pain. I don’t think death will take me tonight.
-Debbie
Though she may not appreciate the thought she puts on quite a show the first hours of her crucifixion.
I have seen enough crucifixions to know it is a brutal way to execute someone. I would watch usually from my terrace. Science had developed a looking glass that even from a distance I could see the tormented faces of those my court or I have damned to die crucified. Rarely would I go to the Hill of Death knowing what a vile place it is to die. The stench was awful and I made appearances only to make a point of the severity of the punishment that the prisoner is suffering. The last time I was here was to Barbara Moore as she died on her cross. I remember taking care of my needs after seeing Barbara suffer so brutally on my decree.
Now I hang crucified to the same cross Barbara hanged from. What I had imagined this would feel like is nothing like it really feels like now that I am nailed to cross. I am being torn apart by the cross as the three spikes hold me above the crowd below. The spikes in my wrists pry against my bones with any move I make while the spike through my feet grinds against the shattered bones in my feet. I feel my heart pounding in my chest as my ribs press against it.
Below me what were faithful loyal subjects berate me as the crucified whore I have become. I reply with a hoarse voice curses I do not even know the meaning of. I believe the evil of the cross has entered me through the spikes that bind me to it!
I have been crucified but half a day and the cross tortures me in ways I never imagined. My body is stretched as I never thought it could be yet I fear I am no near death. This torment will last a long time.
Below the hill I see my palace. On the terrace is the man who nailed me to this cross and a woman that could be Messaline wearing one of my fuchsia night gowns. Could she not even wait until I am dead?
-Debbie
Tree is in his normal state coherence (he is completely drunk) as he talks to Messaline.
“Well, Queen Deborah is crucified. I’m told she had fantasies of being hanged naked before her people. I hope she likes her ride” Tree says.
Messaline is damn near livid saying “I can’t believe you crucified her on a second hand cross! She is- or was- a queen!”
“Quit bitching, Messa” Tree replies. “It is still premium French crucifixion wood and it is the same cross she executed Barbara Moore on. The bitch is getting what she deserves.”
Messa thinks a few minutes and says “You have done well, Tree. Tie me to the cross in the bedroom and use me how you like.”
There are no known pictures of this encounter…
I hang as a condemned bitch. The pain does not subside yet death is nowhere near ending my suffering. My body smells like a well-used whore and sweat covers my flesh.
I am displayed like a common criminal crucified to suffer the ravages of the cross. I hate the pain. I hate the boredom. I hate the abuse I receive from the thinning but still enthusiastic mob enjoying my suffering. I am dying in agonizing ecstasy. I am meat nailed to wood for my death and their entertainment. I have another orgasm.
The sun has set and sky is darkening. With any luck I will die soon but I think that is just being wishful. My cross rattles as a ladder is slammed against the back of it. I feel a large man climb up behind me. It turns out to be Archer. He toys with my hair and says “It’s a shame I did not get to take your virginity. At least I can watch you suffer through the night.”
The night is nothing I have considered. The thought of hanging on the cross in the dark chills me even in this warm air. I beg him “Kill me now!”
He laughs and says “Why would I do that after doing all the work to crucify you? Enjoy the ride, cunt!”
The darkness of night falls. I can see the lights from my city below. Not far away is a bonfire where a few guards drink spirits and casually snack. Occasionally I hear them laugh about something but I can’t hear what they say. The guards are here to insure that none of us are rescued. If we die in tonight that is our problem or perhaps relief. I am alone nailed to my cross. The only thing I feel is unending pain. I don’t think death will take me tonight.
-Debbie
D
Debbie30
Guest
Tree is in his normal state coherence (he is completely drunk) as he talks to Messaline.
How did this guy get the job?
At least my legs are still together.
...for now...
P
Piper Marie
Guest
Maybe you are being too easy on her? perhaps a sharp sedile is in order? See how long she keeps her legs closed when she is forced to have one of those in her pussy!
D
Debbie30
Guest
Don't give him any ideas
P
Piper Marie
Guest
For Debbie's crucifixion we will keep things simple and let her die eventually just as Barbara Moore did... Maybe next time!
P
Piper Marie
Guest
Well, at least I can still enjoy the show. Are we taking bets on how long she will last before she finally opens her gates for us?
Tree was paid a 'flat rate' for the bitch's crucifixion so bet as you wish!
P
Piper Marie
Guest
What's the starting bid, or where are we at currently? What I can't give in money, maybe I will offer my own body "for science"
This is an appealing offer!!!
P
Piper Marie
Guest
I can say no more here!!! Keep reading!
Ask Barb. She's been round this loop more times than I've had hot dinners.
Wragg makes me out to be Crux whore ...
Early light of morning glows. It seems Jollyrei the angel of death had the night off as Debbie is still alive…
The night on the cross was horrible. I think I may have passed out a time or two but I am not sure. I look down my body and the view has not changed much. The cross and spikes don’t allow me much movement.
It rained a little overnight. It did nothing but wash some of the dirt and blood from me. The pain is still here though a bit different. I can’t feel my hands anymore but my chest and gut hurt from trying to breathe. I am hungrier than I have ever been and I can barely talk as my throat is parched dry.
One of the guards seems to take pity on me. He pours what I hope is at least wine from a jug onto a dirty rag and holds it to my mouth for me to drink. It isn’t pig-piss and I suck it down the best I can. He smiles at me and says “You did well last night, Queen Deborah! I think you will live into tonight.”
He shuffles off to the fire where their breakfast is cooking. I look at the food grilling thinking how good it would taste. Another guard sees me watching them and yells over “I’d give you some but cunts like you don’t get to eat.”
He is a real asshole. I can’t believe he is from my palace guard.
So I hang from my cross still hoping for a quick death or a life-saving miracle with neither likely to happen. I push up with my legs and the pain from my feet is only mildly excruciating.
My damn breasts feel as full as my belly is empty. The crowd is thinner today. I guess that is because a new batch of condemned women is being marched past me to fill waiting stipes with fresh meat.
I look down when I hear a woman with French accent purr “Deborah, only I could make that horrible cross look as better than you do!”
Looking up at me is Messaline, the French lumber baroness that sold Tree the wood I am hanging from. With a raspy voice I ask “Couldn’t you wait until I am dead before fucking Tree on my bed?”
Messa scolds me saying “I would never use the queen’s bed unless I am queen. Instead Tree tied me to the cross in your bedroom and gave me sex like no man has ever done before. He made me come and had me begging for more.
“So you hang nailed to your cross like the condemned whore that you are. Your tits and cunt are displayed for your subjects to gaze at and mock while you slowly die. Tonight I will be at the abbey offering my allegiance and my perfect body to Archbishop Wragg. Perhaps when you die I will be anointed queen of Lesbia and see how your bed feels.”
Messaline strolls to her carriage seemingly pleased with my slow execution. I watch her and yell “You will end up like me!”
If she heard me she did not react. I’ll go back to dying…
-Debbie
The night on the cross was horrible. I think I may have passed out a time or two but I am not sure. I look down my body and the view has not changed much. The cross and spikes don’t allow me much movement.
It rained a little overnight. It did nothing but wash some of the dirt and blood from me. The pain is still here though a bit different. I can’t feel my hands anymore but my chest and gut hurt from trying to breathe. I am hungrier than I have ever been and I can barely talk as my throat is parched dry.
One of the guards seems to take pity on me. He pours what I hope is at least wine from a jug onto a dirty rag and holds it to my mouth for me to drink. It isn’t pig-piss and I suck it down the best I can. He smiles at me and says “You did well last night, Queen Deborah! I think you will live into tonight.”
He shuffles off to the fire where their breakfast is cooking. I look at the food grilling thinking how good it would taste. Another guard sees me watching them and yells over “I’d give you some but cunts like you don’t get to eat.”
He is a real asshole. I can’t believe he is from my palace guard.
So I hang from my cross still hoping for a quick death or a life-saving miracle with neither likely to happen. I push up with my legs and the pain from my feet is only mildly excruciating.
My damn breasts feel as full as my belly is empty. The crowd is thinner today. I guess that is because a new batch of condemned women is being marched past me to fill waiting stipes with fresh meat.
I look down when I hear a woman with French accent purr “Deborah, only I could make that horrible cross look as better than you do!”
Looking up at me is Messaline, the French lumber baroness that sold Tree the wood I am hanging from. With a raspy voice I ask “Couldn’t you wait until I am dead before fucking Tree on my bed?”
Messa scolds me saying “I would never use the queen’s bed unless I am queen. Instead Tree tied me to the cross in your bedroom and gave me sex like no man has ever done before. He made me come and had me begging for more.
“So you hang nailed to your cross like the condemned whore that you are. Your tits and cunt are displayed for your subjects to gaze at and mock while you slowly die. Tonight I will be at the abbey offering my allegiance and my perfect body to Archbishop Wragg. Perhaps when you die I will be anointed queen of Lesbia and see how your bed feels.”
Messaline strolls to her carriage seemingly pleased with my slow execution. I watch her and yell “You will end up like me!”
If she heard me she did not react. I’ll go back to dying…
-Debbie
D
Debbie30
Guest
ShadowWolf
Tribune
Your attention to detail with Deborah is well done and makes the story very attractive.