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Facing The Wood

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Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
A new little poem today inspired by a question
raised on the thread "arms nailed behind".

*************

Facing the Wood

Dusk, setting sun,
Tramping feet
Legion passing by,
Rank after rank

Rows of Crosses,
Line the road
Adorned with victims,
The vanquished foe

Men and women,
Crucified naked
In their hundreds
Along the line of march,


Hanging, writhing,
Bloodily nailed
They silently face,
The conquering host

All but one!
For some unknown,
Perverse reason,
I face the wood

I was dragged,
Down the road
Past screaming victims,
The ring of hammers

I reached my cross,
Lying on the roadside
Was thrown down upon it
Flat on my back

Arms spread,
Nails positioned
Hammers raised,
About to strike

But a Centurion,
Stopped and said
“Not that way,
turn her over”

And thus unlike,
All the others
I was nailed,
Facing my cross

They tied my wrists,

To the patibulum
Into soft wood
They drove the nails

They stretched,
My legs down,
Either side of,
my long heavy stipe

Through my ankles,
Nails were driven,
To its sides,
Crushing bone and cartilage

Raised on high,
I hug my cross
Embracing it,
like a lover

Streams of blood,
Run down my arms,
Trickling over,
Protruding ribs

My breast bone rests,
Against rough wood
Scraping and tearing,
With my every move

Upturned rounded breasts,
Separated by the post,
Quiver and shake,
With every rasping breath I take

Knees are bent,
Thighs pressing hard,
squeezing the stipe,
From either side

It’s a way of holding,
Myself higher
Making breathing,
A little easier

But at the cost of
Pinning my labia,
Spread and bleeding,
Against the unyielding wood

Moving up and down,
As I must
Brings unwanted sensations,
Of pain and pleasure

I become an object,
To the passing by
A target of comment,
Derision and ridicule

“Look” they shout
“Over there,
See how that little slut
Fucks her post”

Some stop to laugh,
Touch and fondle
Or to administer slaps,
Across my tight little ass

It’s hopeless, diabolical,
I cannot stop
The depth of humiliation,
Impossible to grasp

Why me?
Forced to hang,
Out of all the hundreds,
Facing the wood

And finding pleasure,
Amidst the horror,
Of crucifixion before
The conquering host

Barbaria, 2015
 
Last edited:
A new little poem today inspired by a question
raised on the thread "arms nailed behind".

*************

Facing the Wood


Dusk, setting sun,
Tramping feet
Legion passing by,
Rank after rank

Rows of Crosses,
Line the road
Adorned with victims,
The vanquished foe

Men and women,
Crucified naked
In their hundreds,
Along the line of march

Hanging, writhing,
Bloodily nailed
They silently face,
The conquering host

All but one!
For some unknown,
Perverse reason,
I face the wood

I was dragged,
Down the road
Past screaming victims,
The ring of hammers

I reached,
My cross
Was thrown down,
Upon it

Arms spread,
Nails positioned
Hammers raised,
About to strike

But a Centurion,
Stopped and said
“Not that way,
turn her over”

And thus unlike,
All the others
I was nailed,
Facing my cross

They tied my wrists,
To the patibulum
Drove the nails,
Into soft wood

They stretched,
My legs down,
Either side of,
my long heavy stipe

Through my ankles,
Nails were driven,
To the its sides,
Crushing bone and cartilage

Raised on high,
I hug my cross
Embracing it,
like a lover

Streams of blood,
Run down my arms,
trickling over,
Protruding ribs

My breast bone rests,
Against rough wood
Scraping and tearing,
With my every move

Upturned rounded breasts,
Separated by the post,
Quiver and shake,
With every rasping breath I take

Knees are bent,
Thighs pressing hard,
squeezing the stipe,
From either side

It’s a way of holding,
Myself higher
Making breathing,
A little easier

But at the cost of
Pinning my labia,
Spread and bleeding,
Against the unyielding wood

Moving up and down,
As I must
Brings unwanted sensations,
Of pain and pleasure

I become an object,
To the passing by
A target of comment,
Derision and ridicule

“Look” they shout
“Over there,
See how that little slut
Fucks her post”

Some stop to laugh,
Touch and fondle
Or to administer slaps,
Across my tight little ass

It’s hopeless, diabolical,
I cannot stop
The depth of humiliation,
Impossible to grasp

Why me?
Forced to hang,
Out of all the hundreds,
Facing the wood

And finding pleasure,
Amidst the horror,
Of crucifixion before
The conquering host

Barbaria, 2015

Calm down Pp. Bring those emotions under control. Barb, this is wonderful and, having just read "Cornu" a couple of times, I find myself drawn completely in every time.
We need a "Special" button. "like" isn't enough!
 
A new little poem today inspired by a question
raised on the thread "arms nailed behind".

*************

Facing the Wood


Dusk, setting sun,
Tramping feet
Legion passing by,
Rank after rank

Rows of Crosses,
Line the road
Adorned with victims,
The vanquished foe

Men and women,
Crucified naked
Along the line of march,
In their hundreds

Hanging, writhing,
Bloodily nailed
They silently face,
The conquering host

All but one!
For some unknown,
Perverse reason,
I face the wood

I was dragged,
Down the road
Past screaming victims,
The ring of hammers

I reached mu cross,
Lying on the roadside
Was thrown down,
Upon it on my back

Arms spread,
Nails positioned
Hammers raised,
About to strike

But a Centurion,
Stopped and said
“Not that way,
turn her over”

And thus unlike,
All the others
I was nailed,
Facing my cross

They tied my wrists,
To the patibulum
Drove the nails,
Into soft wood

They stretched,
My legs down,
Either side of,
my long heavy stipe

Through my ankles,
Nails were driven,
To the its sides,
Crushing bone and cartilage

Raised on high,
I hug my cross
Embracing it,
like a lover

Streams of blood,
Run down my arms,
Trickling over,
Protruding ribs

My breast bone rests,
Against rough wood
Scraping and tearing,
With my every move

Upturned rounded breasts,
Separated by the post,
Quiver and shake,
With every rasping breath I take

Knees are bent,
Thighs pressing hard,
squeezing the stipe,
From either side

It’s a way of holding,
Myself higher
Making breathing,
A little easier

But at the cost of
Pinning my labia,
Spread and bleeding,
Against the unyielding wood

Moving up and down,
As I must
Brings unwanted sensations,
Of pain and pleasure

I become an object,
To the passing by
A target of comment,
Derision and ridicule

“Look” they shout
“Over there,
See how that little slut
Fucks her post”

Some stop to laugh,
Touch and fondle
Or to administer slaps,
Across my tight little ass

It’s hopeless, diabolical,
I cannot stop
The depth of humiliation,
Impossible to grasp

Why me?
Forced to hang,
Out of all the hundreds,
Facing the wood

And finding pleasure,
Amidst the horror,
Of crucifixion before
The conquering host

Barbaria, 2015

Typical Barb :rolleyes:

Always manages to wangle special treatment for herself :rolleyes:

But the nice thing is.....

Special treatment for Barb is a special treat for us!!! :) :) :) :) :)

Nice work, Barb! :) :) :) :) :)
 
Typical Barb :rolleyes:

Always manages to wangle special treatment for herself :rolleyes:

But the nice thing is.....

Special treatment for Barb is a special treat for us!!! :) :) :) :) :)

Nice work, Barb! :) :) :) :) :)


Awww....just for that I have adjusted your demerit score down from 7 to 6 :D
 
A new little poem today inspired by a question
raised on the thread "arms nailed behind".

*************

Facing the Wood


Dusk, setting sun,
Tramping feet
Legion passing by,
Rank after rank

Rows of Crosses,
Line the road
Adorned with victims,
The vanquished foe

Men and women,
Crucified naked
Along the line of march,
In their hundreds

Hanging, writhing,
Bloodily nailed
They silently face,
The conquering host

All but one!
For some unknown,
Perverse reason,
I face the wood

I was dragged,
Down the road
Past screaming victims,
The ring of hammers

I reached mu cross,
Lying on the roadside
Was thrown down,
Upon it on my back

Arms spread,
Nails positioned
Hammers raised,
About to strike

But a Centurion,
Stopped and said
“Not that way,
turn her over”

And thus unlike,
All the others
I was nailed,
Facing my cross

They tied my wrists,
To the patibulum
Drove the nails,
Into soft wood

They stretched,
My legs down,
Either side of,
my long heavy stipe

Through my ankles,
Nails were driven,
To the its sides,
Crushing bone and cartilage

Raised on high,
I hug my cross
Embracing it,
like a lover

Streams of blood,
Run down my arms,
Trickling over,
Protruding ribs

My breast bone rests,
Against rough wood
Scraping and tearing,
With my every move

Upturned rounded breasts,
Separated by the post,
Quiver and shake,
With every rasping breath I take

Knees are bent,
Thighs pressing hard,
squeezing the stipe,
From either side

It’s a way of holding,
Myself higher
Making breathing,
A little easier

But at the cost of
Pinning my labia,
Spread and bleeding,
Against the unyielding wood

Moving up and down,
As I must
Brings unwanted sensations,
Of pain and pleasure

I become an object,
To the passing by
A target of comment,
Derision and ridicule

“Look” they shout
“Over there,
See how that little slut
Fucks her post”

Some stop to laugh,
Touch and fondle
Or to administer slaps,
Across my tight little ass

It’s hopeless, diabolical,
I cannot stop
The depth of humiliation,
Impossible to grasp

Why me?
Forced to hang,
Out of all the hundreds,
Facing the wood

And finding pleasure,
Amidst the horror,
Of crucifixion before
The conquering host

Barbaria, 2015

Could it be your bodacious booty?
1300243324.jpgYeah, I think so...

Your crucifier (?) must be an ass fan. :D

Great poem, btw! :D You do appreciate a good piece of wood, don't you Barb?:rolleyes:
 
A new little poem today inspired by a question
raised on the thread "arms nailed behind".

*************

Facing the Wood


Dusk, setting sun,
Tramping feet
Legion passing by,
Rank after rank

Rows of Crosses,
Line the road
Adorned with victims,
The vanquished foe

Men and women,
Crucified naked
Along the line of march,
In their hundreds

Hanging, writhing,
Bloodily nailed
They silently face,
The conquering host

All but one!
For some unknown,
Perverse reason,
I face the wood

I was dragged,
Down the road
Past screaming victims,
The ring of hammers

I reached mu cross,
Lying on the roadside
Was thrown down,
Upon it on my back

Arms spread,
Nails positioned
Hammers raised,
About to strike

But a Centurion,
Stopped and said
“Not that way,
turn her over”

And thus unlike,
All the others
I was nailed,
Facing my cross

They tied my wrists,
To the patibulum
Drove the nails,
Into soft wood

They stretched,
My legs down,
Either side of,
my long heavy stipe

Through my ankles,
Nails were driven,
To the its sides,
Crushing bone and cartilage

Raised on high,
I hug my cross
Embracing it,
like a lover

Streams of blood,
Run down my arms,
Trickling over,
Protruding ribs

My breast bone rests,
Against rough wood
Scraping and tearing,
With my every move

Upturned rounded breasts,
Separated by the post,
Quiver and shake,
With every rasping breath I take

Knees are bent,
Thighs pressing hard,
squeezing the stipe,
From either side

It’s a way of holding,
Myself higher
Making breathing,
A little easier

But at the cost of
Pinning my labia,
Spread and bleeding,
Against the unyielding wood

Moving up and down,
As I must
Brings unwanted sensations,
Of pain and pleasure

I become an object,
To the passing by
A target of comment,
Derision and ridicule

“Look” they shout
“Over there,
See how that little slut
Fucks her post”

Some stop to laugh,
Touch and fondle
Or to administer slaps,
Across my tight little ass

It’s hopeless, diabolical,
I cannot stop
The depth of humiliation,
Impossible to grasp

Why me?
Forced to hang,
Out of all the hundreds,
Facing the wood

And finding pleasure,
Amidst the horror,
Of crucifixion before
The conquering host

Barbaria, 2015
I think I understand why this is so exciting... nice writing....
 
Could it be your bodacious booty?
:rolleyes:

bodacious
bəʊˈdeɪʃəs/
adjective
excellent, admirable, or attractive.
"bodacious babes"

audacious in a way considered admirable.

Wragg's education takes another step forward :)
 
A new little poem today inspired by a question
raised on the thread "arms nailed behind".

*************

Facing the Wood


Dusk, setting sun,
Tramping feet
Legion passing by,
Rank after rank

Rows of Crosses,
Line the road
Adorned with victims,
The vanquished foe

Men and women,
Crucified naked
Along the line of march,
In their hundreds

Hanging, writhing,
Bloodily nailed
They silently face,
The conquering host

All but one!
For some unknown,
Perverse reason,
I face the wood

I was dragged,
Down the road
Past screaming victims,
The ring of hammers

I reached mu cross,
Lying on the roadside
Was thrown down,
Upon it on my back

Arms spread,
Nails positioned
Hammers raised,
About to strike

But a Centurion,
Stopped and said
“Not that way,
turn her over”

And thus unlike,
All the others
I was nailed,
Facing my cross

They tied my wrists,
To the patibulum
Drove the nails,
Into soft wood

They stretched,
My legs down,
Either side of,
my long heavy stipe

Through my ankles,
Nails were driven,
To the its sides,
Crushing bone and cartilage

Raised on high,
I hug my cross
Embracing it,
like a lover

Streams of blood,
Run down my arms,
Trickling over,
Protruding ribs

My breast bone rests,
Against rough wood
Scraping and tearing,
With my every move

Upturned rounded breasts,
Separated by the post,
Quiver and shake,
With every rasping breath I take

Knees are bent,
Thighs pressing hard,
squeezing the stipe,
From either side

It’s a way of holding,
Myself higher
Making breathing,
A little easier

But at the cost of
Pinning my labia,
Spread and bleeding,
Against the unyielding wood

Moving up and down,
As I must
Brings unwanted sensations,
Of pain and pleasure

I become an object,
To the passing by
A target of comment,
Derision and ridicule

“Look” they shout
“Over there,
See how that little slut
Fucks her post”

Some stop to laugh,
Touch and fondle
Or to administer slaps,
Across my tight little ass

It’s hopeless, diabolical,
I cannot stop
The depth of humiliation,
Impossible to grasp

Why me?
Forced to hang,
Out of all the hundreds,
Facing the wood

And finding pleasure,
Amidst the horror,
Of crucifixion before
The conquering host

Barbaria, 2015
Inspirated from the little poem
faceonthewood.jpg
 
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