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After The Rebellion Of 2014

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thehangingtree said:
As for the 'Standard Oil' reference Tree shows his age. I will use the excuse that this is pretty much a true story from his youth. It was a Standard Oil service station back in the day- a real service station where the gas was pumped for you, the air in your tires and the oil in your engine was checked, and they even could do car repairs.

Back then the underground gasoline storage tanks were vented into the atmosphere:eek: and there is hardly a sweeter smell than high octane leaded gas. Perhaps this is why Tree is like he is today...:doh:

Tree

...it would be a BP-Amoco quick shop today if it was still open...
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also not this shell one?

Old Time Shell Station.jpg​
 
thehangingtree said:
I imagine I am back in high school. Somehow that seems closer to me even though it’s a few years back than when I was nailed to this cross and raised last evening. One Monday morning my English literature teacher said “I want you to take out paper and a pen. Now I want you to write what you did this weekend. There is a catch; no matter how dull your weekend was I want you to write it up as the most thrilling thing that could possibly happen to anyone. Don’t lie but feel free to embellish.”

‘Holy Shit’ I thought there is no reason to embellish but dare I write this? I decided ‘what the hell’ and began to scribble down my thoughts.

“Friday night was typical, get together with girlfriends and talk dirty stuff that looking back I doubt most of us had ever done. Certainly my stories were bullshit. We on the parking lot between the church and the school as our parents and brothers were setting up tables and booths for the weekend’s ‘social’. I never felt very social at these things because the cool guys wouldn’t give me a look and the popular girls would give me a look that said ‘stay on the curb, girl; that’s where you belong.’

“It was getting late and I was getting ready to walk home when a pair of cheap cowboy boots with jeans bunched on the arches stopped before me. I looked up scanning the tall slender frame. Looking down at me was a pair of aviator sunglasses peering at me below a ratty straw cowboy hat.

“’Hi Tree what going on?’ I asked. He said nothing much. He asked if he could walk me home. I shrugged said ‘sure’ like I was going to get a better offer that night. He walked me home and was about to leave when he asked if I would be at the social the next day. I told him I hadn’t decided. He said he hoped he I would be then leaned forward and kissed my lips. It wasn’t a sexy kiss but it was the first time a guy kissed me. I would be at the social.

“I arrived midafternoon and looked around for him. I wore a tank top and some tight cut-off jean shorts. I sighed as I looked about at the girls there, some just starting high school with tits bigger than mine. I wondered why I wasted my money on the pink lace bra and matching panties; he wasn’t going to show up!

“I feel someone grab my bra-strap, stretch it and snap it against my back. I whirled angrily expecting to find one of my classmates taunting me. I look up and find it was Tree. He’s wearing leather sandals, long ‘cargo’ shorts, and a t-shirt with what looked like a cheap homemade iron-on image of an album cover. Who the hell is ‘Mott the Hoople’ I wonder. His long hair is clean and groomed and his eyes- shades off- are a grey-blue that seemed to sparkle at the sight of me! He says ‘I didn’t think you would come’.

“I wasn’t going to, but now looking at him I felt things I had never before and wasn’t sure what it was. He wasn’t skinny- maybe lankly, wiry- but he was looking at me as a woman! We walked the midway and played a few games (he never won anything but having a guy notice me- well). He asked me if I would like to go for walk and I was ready but was surprised when he stopped by the booth where my mother was working and asked her permission. Mother was of course thrilled that a boy would notice me, more so that he would ask permission to get her out of her hair for the night while she worked a booth far below her status. Mom and dad could have written a check for more money than the social would raise but there is an image to keep up.

“Tree is maybe two years older than me but even having gone to the same grade school I really didn’t know him. The closest I got to him before was at church when he was an altar boy assisting serving communion. I grew up on the north side of the parish and him on the south. Even though I went to school mere blocks from where we walked it was all new to me. The sun was down but it wasn’t dark yet. He turned and led me up an alley. It started paved, and then went to gravel, then a path through brush existing only so the electric company could maintain their power lines. Should I have been afraid? I could see houses on either side through the brush. If he tried anything dozens could hear my screams. But then again, what if he doesn’t try anything?

“The path widens and once again it is gravel. It is getting dark when he says to me ‘here’s where I live’. I looked over and could see the lights of the Standard Oil gas station and knew where I was. I told him I knew where his house was. He sat and leaned against the fence and said ‘No, Blaire, this is where I live’. I sat next to him and felt a strange calm come over me. He cupped his hand behind the base of my head and pulled me towards him. Our lips lock and tongues twist. My god, I have been kissed!!!

“His hand ran over my thread-bare tank top where my erect nipples betrayed my arousal. His hand slides down my belly and pulls the shirt from the waistband of my shorts all the while we were locked in a passionate kiss. Before long the tank top is bunched above my breasts. The little pink demi-bra is designed to leave my nipples uncovered. Tree kneads one of the hard buds then the other before he leans down and licks and suckles one.

“This was all happening fast. No man had done this with me. His hand glides down my bare belly. He easily unbuttons the top button of my jeans but fumbles with second button. As much I wasn’t sure I was ready to do what could come next I found myself helping him open the other two. His hand glided into the lace pink panties. He had to feel how soaked they were already. He gently fingered my clit without burying his finger in my pussy. He seemed to know what he was doing and soon he was first person other than me to bring me to a climax, and it was earth-shattering.
“I was so caught up in in the moment I would have let him go all the way but he didn’t make me make that choice. While I was still trembling he pulled the tank top down to cover my breasts. We kissed one more time then he stood and helped me to my feet. I tucked my shirt into my jeans and while I buttoned up the fly I said ‘if I knew this was going to happen I would have cleaned up a bit better’.

“He said to me ‘you are fine. You smell like a women.’ I blushed then he added ‘and Happy Birthday, Blaire.’ I don’t know how he knew it was my 18th birthday- my parents didn’t even remember. He walked me home. We kissed once more and he watched while I walked in the door. I turn to wave goodnight through the screen door and he turned and walked into the shadow between the street lights.”

…So that was the paper I wrote. I figured that was as exciting weekend my teacher was going to read about. I was walking down the hall at the end of the school day when my teacher Ms. Smith met me and said she wanted to see wanted to me right then in her office. I guessed she had read my paper. I arrived in her office and she told me to take off my jean jacket. I started to work the jacket off and asked “Have I done anything wrong, Ms. Smith?”
“Not at all Blaire, and please call me Barb…”

View attachment 141231

That was less than a year ago and now I am crucified next to my high school teacher…


Blaire

reported by Tree

...and no, the 'Tree' in Blaire's story is not even a known relative THT... amazing coincidence...
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Say what you like...Tree knows how to give a girl a good time ;)

A gas station :doh:

:duke:
 
cxslave said:
petrol....whatever......:rolleyes:
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If you'd enjoy a petrol station any more than a gas station...:rolleyes:

...I'll meet you off the plane at Heathrow and I'll whisk you up to Heston services on the M4 :D

Heston.jpg

See? RR's there already with Eulalia! :devil:
 
Tree wishes to point out he said Blaire could see the lights of the gas station. Tree lived in the house next to the station where the episode in the alley happened.

Tree should have expected this batch of horny A.D.D. members would skim the story until you got to the juicy parts...
:doh:...what, Ulrika???

Tree
 
Wragg134 said:
If you'd enjoy a petrol station any more than a gas station...:rolleyes:

...I'll meet you off the plane at Heathrow and I'll whisk you up to Heston services on the M4 :D

View attachment 141254

See? RR's there already with Eulalia! :devil:
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and a coach with much crux-members waited already
 
thehangingtree said:
...but one must remember Blaire was a 'complete' virgin when she was bought... sort of. But Barbaria could not say what she knew about Blaire lest the secret got out she tried to seduce students- surely her partners Bull and Gunner would petition Judge Admi to leave her on the cross until she died so they could have Blaire to themselves:eek:

Tree
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What? You mean trying to seduce my student is another crucifiable crime....I thought I had already found them all out.....hey, wait is it still a crucifiable charge if one is rebuked....maybe only half a crux for that?
 
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So why did I relate that story? How could I have imagined my mistress would be my old school teacher? She finally got to satisfy her lust for me by buying the slave that became one only to honor the memory of the leader of the Slave Rebellion of 2014 just to find she not only survived the Hill of 100 Crosses™ but had turned to the dark side of slave ownership! I wonder why it took me so long to draw the conclusion I can’t say but when I did realize who she was it reminded me of the paper I had written a year ago. If I wasn’t nailed to this cross I would write a paper about how my day crucified went. As the darkness spread a dapper gentleman had a chair set near my cross. He sat into the chair and pulled out a note pad. He lit up a pipe then looked up at me and said “I am Sir Wragg from the CF Chronicles. Would you mind doing an interview?”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked as I looked about at the spikes I hang from.

“Of course you do child. Of course if you refuse twelve hours will be added to your sentence and you will be denied any further water. I doubt you can survive that. I would just like you to describe how your day went today after your first night crucified” Sir Wraggs said to me.

I glared down at him and didn’t say any anything. I thought he could go fuck himself before I talked him. A scantily clad (that’s probably an overstatement) waitress brought him a Tanqueray and tonic with a twist of lime. He thanked her and looked up at me “I’m sure you said something but I was distracted by the fine Ulrika. Oh, and if you don’t relate your story to me I understand Ulrika is fetching Joan Tree to inject her potion in you little American ass. I can only imaging the crowd would be most entertained watching you writhe about up there trying for that last orgasm you’ll never achieve.”

“Alright, I’ll talk” I cry “but I need water.”

He nodded to the waitress to give me a drink. She held a sport bottle to my mouth and squirted the water into my mouth. Has anyone mentioned it is hard to swallow when you are crucified? Probably half ran out the sides of my mouth, down my neck and over my tits. Something tasted odd but I needed the moisture. I am panting when the bottle is empty. I look down at this Wragg guy and asked what he wanted to know. He looks up seemingly confused by my question. “Dear girl, I want you to describe how your day went and I am only an hour away from my filing deadline. Just tell me how you viewed the day as if you could sit at a desk and type your memories, though the longer you hold back the less likely that could happen that becomes…”


T
 
thehangingtree said:
So why did I relate that story? How could I have imagined my mistress would be my old school teacher? She finally got to satisfy her lust for me by buying the slave that became one only to honor the memory of the leader of the Slave Rebellion of 2014 just to find she not only survived the Hill of 100 Crosses™ but had turned to the dark side of slave ownership! I wonder why it took me so long to draw the conclusion I can’t say but when I did realize who she was it reminded me of the paper I had written a year ago. If I wasn’t nailed to this cross I would write a paper about how my day crucified went. As the darkness spread a dapper gentleman had a chair set near my cross. He sat into the chair and pulled out a note pad. He lit up a pipe then looked up at me and said “I am Sir Wragg from the CF Chronicles. Would you mind doing an interview?”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked as I looked about at the spikes I hang from.

“Of course you do child. Of course if you refuse twelve hours will be added to your sentence and you will be denied any further water. I doubt you can survive that. I would just like you to describe how your day went today after your first night crucified” Sir Wraggs said to me.

I glared down at him and didn’t say any anything. I thought he could go fuck himself before I talked him. A scantily clad (that’s probably an overstatement) waitress brought him a Tanqueray and tonic with a twist of lime. He thanked her and looked up at me “I’m sure you said something but I was distracted by the fine Ulrika. Oh, and if you don’t relate your story to me I understand Ulrika is fetching Joan Tree to inject her potion in you little American ass. I can only imaging the crowd would be most entertained watching you writhe about up there trying for that last orgasm you’ll never achieve.”

“Alright, I’ll talk” I cry “but I need water.”

He nodded to the waitress to give me a drink. She held a sport bottle to my mouth and squirted the water into my mouth. Has anyone mentioned it is hard to swallow when you are crucified? Probably half ran out the sides of my mouth, down my neck and over my tits. Something tasted odd but I needed the moisture. I am panting when the bottle is empty. I look down at this Wragg guy and asked what he wanted to know. He looks up seemingly confused by my question. “Dear girl, I want you to describe how your day went and I am only an hour away from my filing deadline. Just tell me how you viewed the day as if you could sit at a desk and type your memories, though the longer you hold back the less likely that could happen that becomes…”


T
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Yes, and stick to the present Blaire...no more little stories dragged out of the past about me, or I will start telling them about you...and you know that would be bad.
 
Barbaria1 said:
What? You mean trying to seduce my student is another crucifiable crime....I thought I had already found them all out.....hey, wait is it still a crucifiable charge if one is rebuked....maybe only half a crux for that?
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Tree has checked the 'Code of Crimes' as written to date by the judge and his persecutor prosecutor and found nothing about being 'rebuked'...

... I referred this to RR to see if there is any potential to add this to a list of capital offenses...

Tree

...I love when I can help...
 
thehangingtree said:
Tree has checked the 'Code of Crimes' as written to date by the judge and his persecutor prosecutor and found nothing about being 'rebuked'...

... I referred this to RR to see if there is any potential to add this to a list of capital offenses...

Tree

...I love when I can help...
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Remind me not to ask for you help in the future.....geeeze
 
cxslave said:
Blaire's not thinking about much now except the wetness between her legs...and an inexplicable urge to spill her guts to Sir Wragg...:confused:
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Hey, remember now, I warned you...no more Barb secrets...if you must spill your guts, keep it clean Blaire....and don't pee on him either:eek:.... oh, wait, that kind of thing is for Tree to say:confused:
 
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