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messaline
Crucified Amazon
" Oh Lonicera Judith !!! Was it only a dream ?!
It was so much arousing !
"
"Grrrr ! This girl will make me crazy ' Thought Judith ...
"A day, I'll nail her to a cross !!!"
"Mmmmmmmm ! Judith! You're so kind with me ! "Replied Messaline ...
"Are you really thinking of that, my Messa ? So, let me bring to you thelast pleasure ...." Concluded Judith ...
I do thanks very much DarkPrincess for her story and also Hasturan who knew so well to illustrate it !!!
It was very nice to you to accept this work and it was so much arousing me !
Your Messa'avatar is a real achievment and, along the story, I was really living what it was living !!!
It was so much arousing ! ""Grrrr ! This girl will make me crazy ' Thought Judith ...
"A day, I'll nail her to a cross !!!"
"Mmmmmmmm ! Judith! You're so kind with me ! "Replied Messaline ...
"Are you really thinking of that, my Messa ? So, let me bring to you the
" Concluded Judith ...
Your Messa'avatar is a real achievment and, along the story, I was really living what it was living !!!
A last time : Three cheers for Hasturan !!!
Cella
Spectator
I am lost Thessela. Once I'm nailed to the cross it is all over for me but for the dying.
Save yourself. Run! Hide! I am beyond help now.
I am utterly innocent, but must die like a criminal.
Such injustice for a 19 year old woman!
Do no try to find me. It is too dangerous for you.
It is better I die alone, crucified among strangers.
It would be too painful to see you as I hang on the cross.
But please believe, my dear sister, my last thoughts will be of you!
Well, that will never keep Thessela away. She'll be hell-bent on finding you for sure now.
Gorgeous scene, Marcella!
LittleSiss
Sorceress
Draw me in !!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thrust and flick and pull me!
Pound and pound and slid me down.
Circles in my mind.
Spread across and limp
Open burning textures
Not one place the center
The wanting open throbs.
My forehead tingles
Backbone and toes
I feel only the gliding sweetness
Blinding stars at midnight
Will there be a mornings light?
Thrust and flick and pull me!
Pound and pound and slid me down.
Circles in my mind.
Spread across and limp
Open burning textures
Not one place the center
The wanting open throbs.
My forehead tingles
Backbone and toes
I feel only the gliding sweetness
Blinding stars at midnight
Will there be a mornings light?
And of course, props to Hasturan for the very vivid series of pictures portraying the scene.Well, that will never keep Thessela away. She'll be hell-bent on finding you for sure now.
Gorgeous scene, Marcella!
Wow.
Pictures in pictures. A painting or a song - you see it and feel it and experience it. This is superb, Siss! 
"Will there be a mornings light?"
Really depends what we're talking about, doesn't it?
AlexArts
Soul of Cinder
Thessela
Beloved slavegirl
No!
Marcella!
No!
I cannot leave.
I must stay and be with her, and help if I can!
My sister!
Cella
Spectator
Marcella's Crucifixion, Part 2
“Do they always scream so loud?”
“I don’t know. I guess. I mean, you would too if they hammered nails into you.”
“She’s so young! So beautiful! What a shame!”
“Fuck me! That’s one beautiful bitch all right!”
“Why’d she get crucified? Doesn’t look like some slave, or whore to me.”
“I heard she killed some rich bitch, or a soldier.”
“Who cares why! Just enjoy the view!”
“Yeah! Look at those tits! Perfect!”
“Legs too! And that ass! Let’s see that pussy girl! Yeah!”
“She keeps moaning she’s innocent. Maybe she is.”
“Shit, they all claim they’re innocent.”
“Yeah, I know, but there’s something about this girl . . .”
“She’s a killer! She fucking deserves to suffer. She only got what she deserved.”
“Look, she’s pissing!”
“Who the fuck is Thessela?”
********************************************************************************* ***************
“What . . .?”
Marcella sees the hammer fall to the nail pressed into her left wrist. She screams, her eyes wide open in terror, as her muscles tense for the impact. She hears the harsh metallic contact and shuts her eyes just as the sharp point of the nearly six inch (15 cm) spike slices through her wrist and embeds itself solidly in the wood of the crossbeam. She senses the passage of the rough iron through her flesh but nothing else . . . curious . . . but then, in an instant, the pain arrives. Pain so horrible, so burning, so utterly agonizing – she has nothing to compare it with. Not any of the torture she’s endured to this time had anywhere near the sheer brutal impact of the pain that slashes through her now. Her body, held down on the cross by the strong arms of the execution squad, reacts in the only way it can: all her muscles instantly tense as she arches her back and vainly, desperately tries to twist away from the pain; but she cannot escape the horror of being nailed.
The first strike of the hammer easily sets the point of the spike firmly in the wood of the crossbeam. Still, most of the square shaft has yet to be embedded. Now, with the nail fixed and not being held, the executioner pauses briefly to reposition, then expertly wields his hammer to deliver a rapid series of powerful blows, each one of which slowly advances the passage of the spike through Marcella’s wrist. Blood flows from her pierced wrists and pools on the crossbeam. How many swings of the hammer did it take to completely drive the nail? Marcella does not know. She fainted sometime during the nailing but quickly regained consciousness with the last swing of the hammer. Now she screams in agony as the throbbing pain returns to roar and burn in her like the very fires of Hades!
Marcella cannot help but to look down the length of her arm stretched over the crossbeam to where the large rounded head of the spike sits atop her wrist. Sickeningly, she realizes that the whole long shaft of the spike, has passed through her and into the wood! The flow of blood from her wound has be reduced to a trickle. Despite the burning agony of the iron against her raw flesh she can feel the pressure of the flat spike head pushing down against her wrist, like some massive weight, pinning her arm down. Instinctively she tries to pull her arm away from the source of the pain. A mistake. She only pulls raw flesh and bone against the square shaft that brings on a huge escalation in her pain. She screams as she relaxes her arm, trying not to move it at all.
Marcella feels a pull on her right arm and rolls her head around to see and feel a nail being pressed into her that wrist. Her executioner and rapist looks at her with an evil grin as he prepares to drive the second nail. She pleads for mercy, for the executioner to stop. But this is purely instinctive. She knows there is no stopping. She is being nailed to this cross under her. There is nothing she can do about it. Marcella breathes in an out rapidly, her pillowed breasts heaving on her chest, as she waits for the hammer to fall. Her eyes follow the arc of the hammer as it is raised, then quickly down as it smashes into the huge nail head driving the iron through her wrist. As before, the pain in instant and overwhelming, and she screams again and again as the hammer falls a second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth time to complete the nailing.
Now there are two points of sheer, burning agony. Marcella is nailed to her crossbeam. Her head looks right and left as if to confirm she is nailed. Yes! She is! The awful realization causes her to panic and she again tries to pull her arms away from the pain, back towards her body. But, as before, the searing agony this causes makes her understand the futility of it. She is being crucified!!! Oh gods in heaven she’s being crucified!!!
Marcella throws her head back on the crossbeam and cries out: Why? Why? Why? I didn’t do anything! Why the hell is this happening to me? Oh gods, the pain, the pain! It is then she feels hands around her ankles pulling on her legs. She looks up to see her executioner doing the stretching of her legs. As her ass drags along the rough wood of the stipes her arms are extended into a shallow V-shape. This extension inevitably pulls on the nails through her wrists causing a sudden surge of agony to course through Marcella’s splendid yet tortured body.
The executioner directs two of his assistants to pull Marcella’s legs apart, fully exposing her crotch to the crowd. Suddenly, once again aware of her nakedness, she is humiliated to know that the assembled spectators -- mostly men, but to her surprise some women too -- are scrambling for a view between her legs. Why, or why are people so damnably perverse? To want to see a poor girl’s utter nakedness and degradation? How awful people are! How disgusting! Her quivering thighs are held apart as she hears the executioner’s booming voice.
“Have you ever seen such a perfect pussy as this? Come on! Who wants a piece of her? Who wants the last fuck? You, sir. Yes, you. I know you have coin to spare. Ten denarii, that’s all. Before her feet are nailed. You can’t have her then, can you? No? Then how about you then. Or you? Come on, who can pass up such a sweet treat as this young twat?”
Suddenly a figure is shoved forward from the crowd. A young man, very homely, with a dull, sheepish look on his face.
“Yes, Maximus! Go for it! There’s a nice piece of ass for you Maximus!” The crowd roars. Someone passes ten denarii to the executioner.
“We bought her for you Maximus. Enjoy!”
“Who’s this guy?” One of spectators asks of another. “And why does this apparent dolt deserve such a proud name as Maximus?”
“Oh, wait until you see his cock? Then you’ll understand.”
Maximus approaches the agonized, groaning figure of Marcella. Standing between her legs he stares wolfishly at her exposed pudendum, licking his lips and flicking his tongue. He turns back to the crowd and raises his arms as in a victory salute to the roaring crowd. A huge grin splits his face as he drops his trousers, then his loincloth. The crowd riotously cheers as his huge penis dangles down between his legs. Yes, Maximus is aptly named. He grabs his unnaturally huge organ -- as long as a man’s forearm and thick as a fat sausage -- in both hands and shakes it at the crowd as it becomes semi-erect.
“Maximus, Maximus, Maximus!” shouts the crowd. “Fuck her, Maximus. Fuck that bitch!”
Maximus turns to face Marcella who looks up at him in utter horror as his huge cock continues to stiffen into a fearsome weapon. It doesn’t grow much in length but thickens considerably – it’s girth nearly as great a man’s wrist. Some women in the crowd feign fainting at the site of Maximus’s meaty cudgel. Marcella can only stare at it in utter horror and disbelief. How can my pussy withstand a rape by this monster? Surely I will be split in two!
Maximus advances on Marcella, his monstrous organ waving and weaving back and forth, fully erect. He kneels between Marcella’s thighs and immediately lunges for her gaping slit, still oozing the executioner’s cum. Marcella grunts in pain as the huge head pushes into her, sliding deeper and deeper until the pain in her pelvis becomes unendurable. She screams in agony as she believes he is piercing into her very bowels. Maximus thrusts and grunts over and over until he suddenly climaxes with a powerful final thrust, shooting an enormous load into Marcella’s tortured vagina. He withdraws, still hard, and, squeezing his cock with both hands, milks additional spurts of semen over her lower abdomen. The crowd cheers and roars its approval as Maximus stands and turn to the crowd, his cock still dripping.
“Who’s next,” shouts the executioner? “I do believe she is asking for more!” The crowd roars in laughter at the jest.
“Clean her up first,” shouts a voice back. “I see too much of Maximus all over her!”
“Very well. Bring water and clean her. Flush out her pussy . . .”
“Enough!” A commanding voice is heard over the jeers and laughter of the crowd. “Enough, I say!”
It is the Decurion, mounted on his horse. He advances into the crowd. “Executioner, this crowd is becoming too uncontrolled. Finish it. She should have been hanging by now. No more delay!”
“But Decurion,” the executioner retorts, “we’re just having some fun with her. She’s under my control for execution, not yours.”
“Watch your tongue carnifex. I am in command of this site. I’ll defer to you as long as order is maintained. But you’ve had your fun. This crowd is becoming too unruly. I will have order!”
It’s always this way when a woman in crucified, the Decurion thinks to himself. And this one, so young and pretty. (What a shame! I don’t think she’s guilty of anything! But I can't save her.) Things can easily get out of control. If the girl deserves to be crucified, then just do it! Why is the rape necessary? Why degrade her any more than necessary?
The executioner nods in compliance. He knows better than to push an officer, even one as junior as a Decurion, too far. The results could be bloody! “Okay, lads, back to work. Let’s get this finished!”
A foot block is nailed to the stipes at the appropriate position. Then Marcella’s feet are placed, one atop the other, on the block. A single nail, longer than the wrist nails, is carefully pounded –so as not to beak any bones -- through both of Marcella’s feet and then into the foot block. This takes several blows of the hammer to the nail before it ever penetrates both feet. Marcella howls in agony as the nail is advanced through her feet and into the wood. Sweating, the executioner stands up and drops his hammer to the ground.
“Raise her,” he commands.
Marcella feels her cross, to which she is nailed, begin to move. She’s being raised up! In a minute she’ll be hanging fully crucified! She tenses all her muscles. Her raw flesh pulls and pushes against the nails. Her agony is quickly escalating. She groans piteously.
When her head is about level with the shoulders of the executioners raising her cross, the executioner calls a halt. He orders water and allows Marcella to drink deeply before her cross is raised vertical. Some might think this a mercy, but it is not. The executioner knows well that Marcella is severely dehydrated. If she dies too soon it’ll reflect on his skills as a carnifex. No, Marcella will not die quickly. And she’ll certainly receive no mercy or shortening of her time on the cross. The silly bitch actually believed him when he said she’d be shown mercy if she did as he commanded. No, there’s no mercy for Marcella, or anyone else crucified. Never.
After watering her, the executioner has his men continue with raising Marcella vertical. Marcella groans in ever-escalating agony as her body slides down the cross as it is raised. Suddenly, when nearly vertical, she feels a thump as the end of her cross drops into the prepared hole. A final push and she’s vertical. The cross wobbles a bit until secured in its hole with stakes. Her body drops and the torn muscles in her shoulders – torn when they used the strappado on her --scream out their own agony. She feels the full weight of her body dragging on her nailed wrists. The pain is terrible beyond description. She pushes up with her feet against the foot nail. Bolts of fiery hot pain race up her legs. It knocks the breath out of her. She looks down between her heaving breasts, their nipples erect, down the length of her sweat-drenched body to see the ugly nail head on top of her feet. The she looks up and out at her extended arms to see the wrist nails securing her to the crossbeam. The agony is all-consuming, raw, white hot. She howls in pain and utter despair!
She’s crucified! Crucified! Nailed naked to a cross! It’s awful agony! How can she possibly endure this? But she knows she cannot escape from the cross. All she can do is hang, suffer, and endure it all until death takes her. Marcella looks down on the heads of the spectators. They are all looking up at her. Again she feels the hot blush of humiliation. She drops her head to her chest. Soon the pain in her shoulders is beyond endurance. She must push up with her feet. She does, and pushes out from the cross, her back arching. Most of her struggles are during the first hour. Then, exhausted, she merely hangs, moving as little as possible.
Marcella crucified.
This is another image of Marcella crucified. I didn't use it in the narrative but it is a smoking hot image!
Author’s note. Please click on the link below to see earlier posted images of Marcella and accompanying narratives of her crucifixion. Unfortunately, these images were posted before I ever thought I’d be doing such a long narrative.
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/hasturans-decadence-by-lexarts.5147/page-62#post-252536
“Do they always scream so loud?”
“I don’t know. I guess. I mean, you would too if they hammered nails into you.”
“She’s so young! So beautiful! What a shame!”
“Fuck me! That’s one beautiful bitch all right!”
“Why’d she get crucified? Doesn’t look like some slave, or whore to me.”
“I heard she killed some rich bitch, or a soldier.”
“Who cares why! Just enjoy the view!”
“Yeah! Look at those tits! Perfect!”
“Legs too! And that ass! Let’s see that pussy girl! Yeah!”
“She keeps moaning she’s innocent. Maybe she is.”
“Shit, they all claim they’re innocent.”
“Yeah, I know, but there’s something about this girl . . .”
“She’s a killer! She fucking deserves to suffer. She only got what she deserved.”
“Look, she’s pissing!”
“Who the fuck is Thessela?”
********************************************************************************* ***************
“What . . .?”
Marcella sees the hammer fall to the nail pressed into her left wrist. She screams, her eyes wide open in terror, as her muscles tense for the impact. She hears the harsh metallic contact and shuts her eyes just as the sharp point of the nearly six inch (15 cm) spike slices through her wrist and embeds itself solidly in the wood of the crossbeam. She senses the passage of the rough iron through her flesh but nothing else . . . curious . . . but then, in an instant, the pain arrives. Pain so horrible, so burning, so utterly agonizing – she has nothing to compare it with. Not any of the torture she’s endured to this time had anywhere near the sheer brutal impact of the pain that slashes through her now. Her body, held down on the cross by the strong arms of the execution squad, reacts in the only way it can: all her muscles instantly tense as she arches her back and vainly, desperately tries to twist away from the pain; but she cannot escape the horror of being nailed.
The first strike of the hammer easily sets the point of the spike firmly in the wood of the crossbeam. Still, most of the square shaft has yet to be embedded. Now, with the nail fixed and not being held, the executioner pauses briefly to reposition, then expertly wields his hammer to deliver a rapid series of powerful blows, each one of which slowly advances the passage of the spike through Marcella’s wrist. Blood flows from her pierced wrists and pools on the crossbeam. How many swings of the hammer did it take to completely drive the nail? Marcella does not know. She fainted sometime during the nailing but quickly regained consciousness with the last swing of the hammer. Now she screams in agony as the throbbing pain returns to roar and burn in her like the very fires of Hades!
Marcella cannot help but to look down the length of her arm stretched over the crossbeam to where the large rounded head of the spike sits atop her wrist. Sickeningly, she realizes that the whole long shaft of the spike, has passed through her and into the wood! The flow of blood from her wound has be reduced to a trickle. Despite the burning agony of the iron against her raw flesh she can feel the pressure of the flat spike head pushing down against her wrist, like some massive weight, pinning her arm down. Instinctively she tries to pull her arm away from the source of the pain. A mistake. She only pulls raw flesh and bone against the square shaft that brings on a huge escalation in her pain. She screams as she relaxes her arm, trying not to move it at all.
Marcella feels a pull on her right arm and rolls her head around to see and feel a nail being pressed into her that wrist. Her executioner and rapist looks at her with an evil grin as he prepares to drive the second nail. She pleads for mercy, for the executioner to stop. But this is purely instinctive. She knows there is no stopping. She is being nailed to this cross under her. There is nothing she can do about it. Marcella breathes in an out rapidly, her pillowed breasts heaving on her chest, as she waits for the hammer to fall. Her eyes follow the arc of the hammer as it is raised, then quickly down as it smashes into the huge nail head driving the iron through her wrist. As before, the pain in instant and overwhelming, and she screams again and again as the hammer falls a second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth time to complete the nailing.
Now there are two points of sheer, burning agony. Marcella is nailed to her crossbeam. Her head looks right and left as if to confirm she is nailed. Yes! She is! The awful realization causes her to panic and she again tries to pull her arms away from the pain, back towards her body. But, as before, the searing agony this causes makes her understand the futility of it. She is being crucified!!! Oh gods in heaven she’s being crucified!!!
Marcella throws her head back on the crossbeam and cries out: Why? Why? Why? I didn’t do anything! Why the hell is this happening to me? Oh gods, the pain, the pain! It is then she feels hands around her ankles pulling on her legs. She looks up to see her executioner doing the stretching of her legs. As her ass drags along the rough wood of the stipes her arms are extended into a shallow V-shape. This extension inevitably pulls on the nails through her wrists causing a sudden surge of agony to course through Marcella’s splendid yet tortured body.
The executioner directs two of his assistants to pull Marcella’s legs apart, fully exposing her crotch to the crowd. Suddenly, once again aware of her nakedness, she is humiliated to know that the assembled spectators -- mostly men, but to her surprise some women too -- are scrambling for a view between her legs. Why, or why are people so damnably perverse? To want to see a poor girl’s utter nakedness and degradation? How awful people are! How disgusting! Her quivering thighs are held apart as she hears the executioner’s booming voice.
“Have you ever seen such a perfect pussy as this? Come on! Who wants a piece of her? Who wants the last fuck? You, sir. Yes, you. I know you have coin to spare. Ten denarii, that’s all. Before her feet are nailed. You can’t have her then, can you? No? Then how about you then. Or you? Come on, who can pass up such a sweet treat as this young twat?”
Suddenly a figure is shoved forward from the crowd. A young man, very homely, with a dull, sheepish look on his face.
“Yes, Maximus! Go for it! There’s a nice piece of ass for you Maximus!” The crowd roars. Someone passes ten denarii to the executioner.
“We bought her for you Maximus. Enjoy!”
“Who’s this guy?” One of spectators asks of another. “And why does this apparent dolt deserve such a proud name as Maximus?”
“Oh, wait until you see his cock? Then you’ll understand.”
Maximus approaches the agonized, groaning figure of Marcella. Standing between her legs he stares wolfishly at her exposed pudendum, licking his lips and flicking his tongue. He turns back to the crowd and raises his arms as in a victory salute to the roaring crowd. A huge grin splits his face as he drops his trousers, then his loincloth. The crowd riotously cheers as his huge penis dangles down between his legs. Yes, Maximus is aptly named. He grabs his unnaturally huge organ -- as long as a man’s forearm and thick as a fat sausage -- in both hands and shakes it at the crowd as it becomes semi-erect.
“Maximus, Maximus, Maximus!” shouts the crowd. “Fuck her, Maximus. Fuck that bitch!”
Maximus turns to face Marcella who looks up at him in utter horror as his huge cock continues to stiffen into a fearsome weapon. It doesn’t grow much in length but thickens considerably – it’s girth nearly as great a man’s wrist. Some women in the crowd feign fainting at the site of Maximus’s meaty cudgel. Marcella can only stare at it in utter horror and disbelief. How can my pussy withstand a rape by this monster? Surely I will be split in two!
Maximus advances on Marcella, his monstrous organ waving and weaving back and forth, fully erect. He kneels between Marcella’s thighs and immediately lunges for her gaping slit, still oozing the executioner’s cum. Marcella grunts in pain as the huge head pushes into her, sliding deeper and deeper until the pain in her pelvis becomes unendurable. She screams in agony as she believes he is piercing into her very bowels. Maximus thrusts and grunts over and over until he suddenly climaxes with a powerful final thrust, shooting an enormous load into Marcella’s tortured vagina. He withdraws, still hard, and, squeezing his cock with both hands, milks additional spurts of semen over her lower abdomen. The crowd cheers and roars its approval as Maximus stands and turn to the crowd, his cock still dripping.
“Who’s next,” shouts the executioner? “I do believe she is asking for more!” The crowd roars in laughter at the jest.
“Clean her up first,” shouts a voice back. “I see too much of Maximus all over her!”
“Very well. Bring water and clean her. Flush out her pussy . . .”
“Enough!” A commanding voice is heard over the jeers and laughter of the crowd. “Enough, I say!”
It is the Decurion, mounted on his horse. He advances into the crowd. “Executioner, this crowd is becoming too uncontrolled. Finish it. She should have been hanging by now. No more delay!”
“But Decurion,” the executioner retorts, “we’re just having some fun with her. She’s under my control for execution, not yours.”
“Watch your tongue carnifex. I am in command of this site. I’ll defer to you as long as order is maintained. But you’ve had your fun. This crowd is becoming too unruly. I will have order!”
It’s always this way when a woman in crucified, the Decurion thinks to himself. And this one, so young and pretty. (What a shame! I don’t think she’s guilty of anything! But I can't save her.) Things can easily get out of control. If the girl deserves to be crucified, then just do it! Why is the rape necessary? Why degrade her any more than necessary?
The executioner nods in compliance. He knows better than to push an officer, even one as junior as a Decurion, too far. The results could be bloody! “Okay, lads, back to work. Let’s get this finished!”
A foot block is nailed to the stipes at the appropriate position. Then Marcella’s feet are placed, one atop the other, on the block. A single nail, longer than the wrist nails, is carefully pounded –so as not to beak any bones -- through both of Marcella’s feet and then into the foot block. This takes several blows of the hammer to the nail before it ever penetrates both feet. Marcella howls in agony as the nail is advanced through her feet and into the wood. Sweating, the executioner stands up and drops his hammer to the ground.
“Raise her,” he commands.
Marcella feels her cross, to which she is nailed, begin to move. She’s being raised up! In a minute she’ll be hanging fully crucified! She tenses all her muscles. Her raw flesh pulls and pushes against the nails. Her agony is quickly escalating. She groans piteously.
When her head is about level with the shoulders of the executioners raising her cross, the executioner calls a halt. He orders water and allows Marcella to drink deeply before her cross is raised vertical. Some might think this a mercy, but it is not. The executioner knows well that Marcella is severely dehydrated. If she dies too soon it’ll reflect on his skills as a carnifex. No, Marcella will not die quickly. And she’ll certainly receive no mercy or shortening of her time on the cross. The silly bitch actually believed him when he said she’d be shown mercy if she did as he commanded. No, there’s no mercy for Marcella, or anyone else crucified. Never.
After watering her, the executioner has his men continue with raising Marcella vertical. Marcella groans in ever-escalating agony as her body slides down the cross as it is raised. Suddenly, when nearly vertical, she feels a thump as the end of her cross drops into the prepared hole. A final push and she’s vertical. The cross wobbles a bit until secured in its hole with stakes. Her body drops and the torn muscles in her shoulders – torn when they used the strappado on her --scream out their own agony. She feels the full weight of her body dragging on her nailed wrists. The pain is terrible beyond description. She pushes up with her feet against the foot nail. Bolts of fiery hot pain race up her legs. It knocks the breath out of her. She looks down between her heaving breasts, their nipples erect, down the length of her sweat-drenched body to see the ugly nail head on top of her feet. The she looks up and out at her extended arms to see the wrist nails securing her to the crossbeam. The agony is all-consuming, raw, white hot. She howls in pain and utter despair!
She’s crucified! Crucified! Nailed naked to a cross! It’s awful agony! How can she possibly endure this? But she knows she cannot escape from the cross. All she can do is hang, suffer, and endure it all until death takes her. Marcella looks down on the heads of the spectators. They are all looking up at her. Again she feels the hot blush of humiliation. She drops her head to her chest. Soon the pain in her shoulders is beyond endurance. She must push up with her feet. She does, and pushes out from the cross, her back arching. Most of her struggles are during the first hour. Then, exhausted, she merely hangs, moving as little as possible.
Marcella crucified. This is another image of Marcella crucified. I didn't use it in the narrative but it is a smoking hot image!Author’s note. Please click on the link below to see earlier posted images of Marcella and accompanying narratives of her crucifixion. Unfortunately, these images were posted before I ever thought I’d be doing such a long narrative.
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/hasturans-decadence-by-lexarts.5147/page-62#post-252536
Last edited:
shastar
Tribune
Great, absolutely great. A very vivid - and cruel description, Marcella. And once again, I'll have to go to work with some... concentration problems
Poor Decurion !
AlexArts
Soul of Cinder
Cella
Spectator
Great, absolutely great. A very vivid - and cruel description, Marcella. And once again, I'll have to go to work with some... concentration problems
Poor Decurion !
View attachment 392669
I hope the cruelty isn't over the top, but it's difficult not to be cruel when writing about crucifixion. When you nail someone to a cross almost anything else is possible. I can't imagine that a woman would have been crucified without being raped first.
The world today is still full of horrible cruelty to women.
AlexArts
Soul of Cinder
There is only one reason...
Cella
Spectator
Not only women Marcella. I say: The world today is still full of horrible cruelty to humans and animals.
AlexArts
Soul of Cinder
The world is full of cruelty, yes. Real cruelty is deplorable. Your story, however, does not celebrate it, but fits into a fantasy of sympathy and inspiration theme, like a story about martyrs which always includes emotion and an erotic element. The cruelty in the story is necessary to achieve that. You've done that very well, pulling all the right strings. Hasturan's hard hitting pictures need a hard hitting story.
Cella
Spectator
The world is full of cruelty, yes. Real cruelty is deplorable. Your story, however, does not celebrate it, but fits into a fantasy of sympathy and inspiration theme, like a story about martyrs which always includes emotion and an erotic element. The cruelty in the story is necessary to achieve that. You've done that very well, pulling all the right strings. Hasturan's hard hitting pictures need a hard hitting story.
Yes, despite the awful cruelty there is an element of eroticism. I admit that. The guys on this site wright about so well, as do the women. We all write about the eroticism.
It seems odd. Yet it seems apparent, obvious, that there is an erotic element.
- Status