Crisis at Cruxton Abbey

[Mikerytel]

Of course you’re left in suspense. If I’ve learned anything writing for CruxForums in my diary, never end without a cliffhanger!

There’s be pitchforks and torches looking for you if you did

 

[Mikerytel]

19.


IN MY BED, LATE ON A SATURDAY NIGHT IN AUGUST, THE EVENT CONCLUDED AND THE CROWDS GONE HOME (part 6)


Okay, dear diary, thanks for waiting. I’m back now to finish my recounting of my crucifixion in the grand finale of the “The Cruxton Abbey Judicial Punishments and Executions through the Ages Live Reenactments Review” As you’ll recall, I’d gotten as far as relating to you how we girls had been nailed by the wrists to our respective patibula.

Next, as anyone familiar with crucifixion would know, comes the task of raising the victims up, securing their patibula to the waiting stipites, and nailing their feet.

And that is where Tree’s impressive ingenuity and know-how came into play (I’m saying that to flatter him as, truth be told, most of Tree’s accomplishments can be explained by pure dumb luck).

The plan was actually straightforward enough. It called for a ladder to be placed against a stipes and mounted by Tree, carrying a very large hammer. Then Bull and Gunner, both of whom are extraordinarily tall and muscular guys, were to grasp a patibulum (with its victim already attached at the wrists), lift it on high (imagine well over their heads) and slide it into a pre-prepared notch cut into the face of the stipes. At that point Tree was to use the hammer to bludgeon it into place and then secure it with a pair of genuine-imitation, realistic-looking Roman nails, marketed exclusively through NailusMartyrs.com.

Sounds simple enough, right? What could possibly go wrong? Well, I being the first to be raised, was about to find out.

It all started out well enough, with Bull and Gunner, working in perfect unison, grasping either end of my patibulum in their huge paws and lifting it and me, seemingly effortlessly, off the ground. I twisted and turned, screamed and hollered like a banshee as the nails driven through my wrists pressed on nerve endings which in turn sent thunderbolts of ‘pain messaging’ through my nervous system. And, once off the ground I kicked and thrashed wildly with my legs … all in all, putting on a show that delighted the crowd.

But, as my patibulum was about to be pressed into the notch awaiting it, the heel of one of my wildly flailing legs happened to catch Tree right between his legs, eliciting a howl of surprised shock and causing him to double over and grab his crotch, and to drop the big hammer, which landed on the bridge of Gunner’s realistically-styled faux Roman legionary footwear, causing the lummox to hop about in one foot and to let go of his end of the patibulum, which in turn caused Bull to lose his balance and do a pratfall. While I, along with my patibulum, plummeted to the ground, landing not far from where I had been lying when this all began.

The crowd, thinking this had all been deliberately staged as some kind of comic relief, laughed and applauded wildly.

As they say in show business, the show must go on! With both Tree and Gunner temporarily disabled, others moved swiftly to pick up where they’d left off.

And it wasn’t long before I was raised again, this time successfully, my flailing legs grabbed, forced to bend at the knees, and my feet held firmly in place while nails were driven through them, pinning them to the wood.

Crucified, I was left with nothing more to do than begin with the suffering … writhing and twisting myself about, endlessly pushing/pulling myself up only to fall back, screaming and cursing … all the classic elements of the so-called ‘dance of the crucified’ … and so I danced while the other five were raised and secured, one by one, without further mishap, to join in and suffer along with me

And so, dear diary, for the next three and a half hours the crowd was entertained by the spectacle of six naked girls, dancing on their crosses, putting on for all in attendance the show of a lifetime. Surging forward, the throng. eagerly formed itself into long lines, the attendees patiently waiting their turn to file past and amongst us, to mercilessly mock and taunt each and every one of us in turn, to revel unabashedly in our discomforts and sufferings.

For we Cruxgirls, it was an exhausting, painful, frightful and humiliating … not to mention seemingly interminable … experience. The only respite we received during our time on the cross was a sponge on a stick, soaked in Riesling and pressed to our parched lips about three quarters of the way through our ordeal. That was welcome, but totally insufficient in my opinion, not to mention the fact that most of it ended up running down our chins. I tried to complain but was ignored.

Of course, all this eventually came to an end, largely due to a Cruxton Council ordinance
that required all public events to come to an end by the midnight hour. At which point the crowd slowly dispersed, retiring dorm the slope, still in a holiday-like mood. The parking lot was soon lit up with head beams and red taillights as it gradually emptied.

And mercifully, shortly thereafter, we were all taken down from our crosses, laid on stretchers and taken into the Abbey to receive a bit of first aid before sent off to our sleeping quarters for a well deserved rest. We were all relieved to see Tree and Gunner limping along beside us, both having apparently recovered somewhat from their misfortunes.

As we passed into the Manor through the main entry, no less, with Briggs standing stiffly by, we were welcomed by Lord and Lady Wragg who graciously thanked each and everyone of us individually for laying our bodies on the line to save Cruxton Abbey in its time of need.

I felt rather proud at that moment. I wasn’t accustomed to being thanked for anything by either m’Lord or m’Lady … being sent to the cellar for ‘corrective punishment’, in retribution for having caused some mishap or another, being more the rule. Perhaps a raise in my wages may be in the offing, I thought, as I smiled wanly and chose to ignore the way in which his Lordship gave one of my boobs a quick little fondle as he leaned in close to express his gratitude.

And so, dear diary, that’s the way it was. The Crisis at Cruxton Abbey had been successfully averted, thanks to the dedication and sufferings of so many Cruxgirls like myself … both members of the staff here, as well as others like Messaline, Mp5stab and poor Ms Prudely … who also put their bodies on the line.

Time to get some of that well-earned rest now.


EPILOGUE TO FOLLOW

Bravo. Good story,

 

[twonines]

To her cross, poor Barb Was nailed
`tho she protested and wailed.
The mob wasn`t fussy,
They wanted to see pussy,
Which they did, and then loudly hailed.

 

[messaline]

as well as others like Messaline, Mp5stab and poor Ms Prudely … who also put their bodies on the line.

... and the shame which was linked : I've to notice that each people who was passing in front of us was introducing a finger into our intimity to verify that we were wet ! ...

 

[bindhertocross]

And here are the photos of the other three lovelies nailed to the cross...



By the way, on my flight back to Canada, I was getting comfortably settled into my seat as the plane made its ascent, and ready to nestle in for a nap...when I felt a cold chill coming from the seat behind me. I look around, and to my surprise I see this....

 

[bindhertocross]

... and the shame which was linked : I've to notice that each people who was passing in front of us was introducing a finger into our intimity to verify that we were wet ! ...

And the guard's spears poking and prodding your breasts and genitals, and anything else they desire, and virtually nothing you can do about it...

 

[twonines]

With Crux girls being stripped and abused,
The norm to which we are used.
We all are smitten,
With what you have written,
And have been both entertained and amused.

Thanks, Barb for providing us with this menu of eroticism and fun.

 

[messaline]

And the guard's spears poking and prodding your breasts and genitals, and anything else they desire, and virtually nothing you can do about it...

Three nails are setting us to the wood : what could we do ?
Never mind, it adds to our pain ( ... or pleasure ? )
... Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm !

 

[Loxuru]

And so, dear diary, that’s the way it was. The Crisis at Cruxton Abbey had been successfully averted, thanks to the dedication and sufferings of so many Cruxgirls like myself … both members of the staff here, as well as others like Messaline, Mp5stab and poor Ms Prudely … who also put their bodies on the line.

That's good news!
Thanks to a common effort of the crux community!

 

[phlebas]

... and the shame which was linked : I've to notice that each people who was passing in front of us was introducing a finger into our intimity to verify that we were wet ! ...

I interviewed them, the early ones said you weren't wet but the later ones said you definitely were.

Three nails are setting us to the wood : what could we do ?
Never mind, it adds to our pain ( ... or pleasure ? )
View attachment 1515135View attachment 1515136 ... Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm !

Messa is well crucified
There is nothing that she can hide
Her body is bare
Her cunt has no hair
Like the others who hang by her side

Ms Prudely from the Department for Culture, Media and Sports’ Office of Entertainment and Licensing

It's good to see the public sector prepared to go the extra mile to achieve stakeholder satisfaction, and a nice job she did too. I'll be nominating her for a gong at the next King's birthday honours.

Good job all round!

 

[Barbaria1]

20.


EPILOGUE: THE MONDAY MORNING AFTER, CA. 10:00 AM


“Welcome back, your Lord and Ladyship. I presume by the exultant expression on your faces, the meeting at the Brampton Investment Bank went well?”

“Indeed it did, Briggs!” Enthused Lady Wragg. “The loan is now fully repaid with interest and the crisis at Cruxton Abbey has been fully laid to rest!”

“And it appears that after paying down all of our expenses, we’ve ended up with a tidy little profit,” added Wragg with a wink.

“And what might m’Lord and Lady be planning to do with such a windfall? If I may take the liberty to say so, a wee increase in wages for staff might very well be appreciated.”

“Something to consider, Briggs. Thank you for suggesting it. Now please be so kind as to ring down to the kitchen and have Mrs Briggs send up some tea and biscuits. Lady Wragg and I shall await them in the morning room.”

“Very good, m’Lord.”


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

“Briggs! What’s keeping our morning tea. It’s been nearly half an hour now!”

“Ahhh, sorry m’Lord. I believe it was Barbara who was assigned to bring it up to the morning room and serve. She’s a bit slow and awkward this morning, you’ll understand, T’was only the night before last, as you may recall, that the poor thing was nailed naked to a cross.”

“But I thought those nails were sterile?”

“They were, indeed, m’Lord … but there’s still a need for a bit of time to heal.”

“Of course, how insensitive of me. That’s quite alright then if Barbara needs to take her time, so long as she doesn’t break anything.”

“Yes, m’Lord, but ….”

“Oh dear,” interjected Lady Wragg. “What on earth did that clumsy girl knock over and break this time? I do hope it wasn’t anything very valuable.”

“I fear that depends on what m’Lady defines as valuable. Rest assured it’s not a smashed priceless vase this time. Something quite different. It seems our Barbara, on her way to the Morning room, has managed to drive the tea cart into that tall and rather opulent 18th century Florentine cabinet that stands out in the hallway … the one with the complex design and elaborate inlays of semi-precious stones. It’s not entirely smashed, thank goodness, I think it’s safe to say, that it’s just somewhat scratched and dented.”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that Barbara will be paying for this one by forfeiting any increase in her wages!” Declared Lady Wragg.

“And an evening of corporal punishment down in the cellar dungeon too,” added Wragg with a noticeable gleam in his eye and an anticipatory rubbing together of hands.

“Yes, I’ll make the necessary arrangements straightaway.” Agreed Briggs. “And I’ll have one of the other staff girls deliver the tea and biscuits.”

“Fine Briiggs, carry on as you always do.”

“Yes, m’Lord.”

Now back to what we might do with our profits,” mused Wragg. “What would you propose, my love?”

“Well, there are of course a great many long overdue improvements that could be made to the old place. And then, there’s restoring the landscape garden that Tree ordered bulldozed and the mess that was made of my rose garden too. But … and I think this is very important, Wraggie … given how all the Cruxgirls and all your friends at CruxForums came to our rescue, I do believe we owe them a gesture of our gratitude.”

“Perhaps, we do … but may I remind you, dearest, we’ve already paid them, as well as paid for their transport here, not to mention putting them up here in the Manor.”

“True, but I still think a grand gesture of some sort would be very much appreciated, don’t you agree?”

“Excuse me for intruding … but …”

“What is it now, Briggs?”

“Perhaps, I might, if I may, suggest:


http://www.image-maker.org/

 

[Jollyrei]

The only respite we received during our time on the cross was a sponge on a stick, soaked in Riesling and pressed to our parched lips about three quarters of the way through our ordeal.

Nothing but the best for our cruxgirls at the Abbey, eh?

I tried to complain but was ignored.

I almost missed this line. Was it important?

We were all relieved to see Tree and Gunner limping along beside us

I don't think I've ever seen those two in anything but top form. Makes one almost sympathetic, doesn't it?

so many Cruxgirls like myself … both members of the staff here, as well as others like Messaline, Mp5stab and poor Ms Prudely

Now, Mp5stab and Messaline might be used to this sort of thing, but our Ms. Prudely has had a rather novel experience, from her perspective. I wonder if she can actually take on her duties as a counsel member or functionary or whatever she was before we found out she had these latent, shall we say, tendencies. Perhaps she might fit in somewhere in the Abbey Staff? Some sort of gatekeeper/secretary function to screen out unwanted callers, like inspectors, government functionaries, environmentalists or human rights activists and the like. You know, riff-raff.

“The loan is now fully repaid with interest and the crisis at Cruxton Abbey has been fully laid to rest!”

Always nice to have a success and avert crisis. The success and complicity, er, participation of so many members of not only the general public, but also people of some celebrity and position will doubtless ensure that nobody will look into the details of how this event actually got approved with anything but the most slipshod approach. Mustn't ruffle the feathers of the powerful, after all.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that Barbara will be paying for this one by forfeiting any increase in her wages!” Declared Lady Wragg.

“And an evening of corporal punishment down in the cellar dungeon too,” added Wragg with a noticeable gleam in his eye and an anticipatory rubbing together of hands.

And at the end of the day, isn't that what everyone wanted; a return to normal? The daily round, the common task. I'm sure Barb will appreciate that as well.

By the way, on my flight back to Canada, I was getting comfortably settled into my seat as the plane made its ascent, and ready to nestle in for a nap...when I felt a cold chill coming from the seat behind me. I look around, and to my surprise I see this....

I DO APOLOGISE. I NORMALLY HAVE MY OWN TRANSPORT, BUT IN THIS CASE I THOUGHT I WOULD TRY FLYING IN COMFORT. UNFORTUNATELY, I SEEM TO HAVE ONLY MANAGED AN ECONOMY SEAT. I'LL JUST TURN DOWN THE LITTLE AIR VENT THING IF IT'S BOTHERING YOU.

YOU KNOW, I NEVER DID FIGURE OUT EXACTLY WHAT MY ROLE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE, BUT I ENJOYED THE WHOLE THING IMMENSELY.

 

[Migoz2]

On Monday morning the Minister for Culture, Media and Sport receives a report from Ms Prudely, proposing that the events at Cruxton Abbey be used as a template for a new charity organisation that could be rolled out across heritage sites and stately homes across the UK. She suggests calling it the National Crux.

 

[Loxuru]

By the way, on my flight back to Canada, I was getting comfortably settled into my seat as the plane made its ascent, and ready to nestle in for a nap...when I felt a cold chill coming from the seat behind me. I look around, and to my surprise I see this....

I DO APOLOGISE. I NORMALLY HAVE MY OWN TRANSPORT, BUT IN THIS CASE I THOUGHT I WOULD TRY FLYING IN COMFORT. UNFORTUNATELY, I SEEM TO HAVE ONLY MANAGED AN ECONOMY SEAT. I'LL JUST TURN DOWN THE LITTLE AIR VENT THING IF IT'S BOTHERING YOU.

Don't worry! He will never be allowed to take with his scythe as hand luggage in the cabin.
Nevertheless, I would suggest not giving him a seat at one of the emergency exits!

 

[Eulalia]

the crisis at Cruxton Abbey has been fully laid to rest!”

But not the ghost in the garden?

 

[Loxuru]

“Oh dear,” interjected Lady Wragg. “What on earth did that clumsy girl knock over and break this time? I do hope it wasn’t anything very valuable.”

“I fear that depends on what m’Lady defines as valuable. Rest assured it’s not a smashed priceless vase this time. Something quite different. It seems our Barbara, on her way to the Morning room, has managed to drive the tea cart into that tall and rather opulent 18th century Florentine cabinet that stands out in the hallway … the one with the complex design and elaborate inlays of semi-previous stones. It’s not entirely smashed, thank goodness, I think it’s safe to say, that it’s just somewhat scratched and dented.”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that Barbara will be paying for this one by forfeiting any increase in her wages!” Declared Lady Wragg.

“And an evening of corporal punishment down in the cellar dungeon too,” added Wragg with a noticeable gleam in his eye and an anticipatory rubbing together of hands.

The crisis is over! The daily fuzz and routine are back in Cruxton Abbey!

But not the ghost in the garden?

Has temporary moved inside, until the garden is restored to its original lay-out!

 

[messaline]

But … and I think this is very important, Wraggie … given how all the Cruxgirls and all your friends at CruxForums came to our rescue, I do believe we owe them a gesture of our gratitude.”

For me, if it's possible, I should like a lond whipping'session with my wonderful lover Judith ...
Thanks by advance ...

 

[Barbaria1]

For me, if it's possible, I should like a lond whipping'session with my wonderful lover Judith ...
Thanks by advance ...

View attachment 1516221

on CF anything is possible!

 

[supplice]

But not the ghost in the garden?

I thought the ghost was inside the great house . EDIT: Saw Loxuru's post above.

Well, since my passport is expired, I can't look forward to being assaulted in my sleep by Cruxton Abbey ectoplasm. Very disappointing - no dungeon; no ghost; no crux. Oh well....

 

[Wragg]

“Perhaps, I might, if I may, suggest:


http://www.image-maker.org/

And then she can be crucified as often as we like she likes!

This was rollicking good fun, @Barbaria1, thank you!