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Crown Of Thorns: Pictures

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Thessela said:
I bow my head.
My heart beats faster.
"I accept it."
Click to expand...
crown(ramon-martinez).jpg
The Crowning of Thessela
I hold this crown for you, but you did not ask for it. I did not want to give it to you. Not really.
This crown is not heavy, but it is hard, and you are young and beautiful, and I want to save that, not take it away.
You say you will accept it, although I may also have no choice but to give it to you, whether you accept or not.
They're all looking at me now, and you are standing naked, surrounded by this crowd, waiting.
I know I will give it to you. I have to.
I raise the crown, a circlet of long sharp thorns, to your bowed head.
I touch your soft hair, so silky, a contrast to the noisy place where you stand, surrounded by a court of derision.
You should be somewhere else, somewhere with bright colours, music, and soft laughter.
But here we are instead.
I place the crown on your head and a small soft cry escapes your lips and a wincing look of pain flashes on your face
As I press it into place, the thorns tearing and penetrating soft skin.
Small red streaks run down your pale forehead as you raise your eyes. Is there excitement there, a connection, amidst the fear and pain and trembling. I still want to touch your hair.
But you are going - they want to take you up the hill.
But oh the moment as I touched your hair and felt the thorns bite, a primal quickening of arousal, and for that moment you were my queen.
And now, the moment has passed for me, but still you wear my crown.
 
Whew, Jolly, that is pretty remarkable stuff, it almost feels as if I am there in front of her, seeing that mix of fear, resignation and excitement. The glow of her hot, sweaty body as she prepares for the final walk, for the ordeal to come.

I think I'd better go lie down for a while!
 
Jollyrei said:
View attachment 428308
The Crowning of Thessela
I hold this crown for you, but you did not ask for it. I did not want to give it to you. Not really.
This crown is not heavy, but it is hard, and you are young and beautiful, and I want to save that, not take it away.
You say you will accept it, although I may also have no choice but to give it to you, whether you accept or not.
They're all looking at me now, and you are standing naked, surrounded by this crowd, waiting.
I know I will give it to you. I have to.
I raise the crown, a circlet of long sharp thorns, to your bowed head.
I touch your soft hair, so silky, a contrast to the noisy place where you stand, surrounded by a court of derision.
You should be somewhere else, somewhere with bright colours, music, and soft laughter.
But here we are instead.
I place the crown on your head and a small soft cry escapes your lips and a wincing look of pain flashes on your face
As I press it into place, the thorns tearing and penetrating soft skin.
Small red streaks run down your pale forehead as you raise your eyes. Is there excitement there, a connection, amidst the fear and pain and trembling. I still want to touch your hair.
But you are going - they want to take you up the hill.
But oh the moment as I touched your hair and felt the thorns bite, a primal quickening of arousal, and for that moment you were my queen.
And now, the moment has passed for me, but still you wear my crown.
Click to expand...
Well written Jollyrei.
 
Jollyrei said:
View attachment 428308
The Crowning of Thessela
I hold this crown for you, but you did not ask for it. I did not want to give it to you. Not really.
This crown is not heavy, but it is hard, and you are young and beautiful, and I want to save that, not take it away.
You say you will accept it, although I may also have no choice but to give it to you, whether you accept or not.
They're all looking at me now, and you are standing naked, surrounded by this crowd, waiting.
I know I will give it to you. I have to.
I raise the crown, a circlet of long sharp thorns, to your bowed head.
I touch your soft hair, so silky, a contrast to the noisy place where you stand, surrounded by a court of derision.
You should be somewhere else, somewhere with bright colours, music, and soft laughter.
But here we are instead.
I place the crown on your head and a small soft cry escapes your lips and a wincing look of pain flashes on your face
As I press it into place, the thorns tearing and penetrating soft skin.
Small red streaks run down your pale forehead as you raise your eyes. Is there excitement there, a connection, amidst the fear and pain and trembling. I still want to touch your hair.
But you are going - they want to take you up the hill.
But oh the moment as I touched your hair and felt the thorns bite, a primal quickening of arousal, and for that moment you were my queen.
And now, the moment has passed for me, but still you wear my crown.
Click to expand...

I wear a crown.
But I do not feel like a queen.
I feel like a slave, condemned.
The thorns do hurt me.
I think my pain has just begun.
They watch me in my shame.
You watch me too, but in a different way.
Why do I feel so alive?


Beautiful Jolly!
 
Last edited:
I found these pics in my "to post" folder and they immediately made me thing of Thess.

Some wood, some nails and a crown
shesus1-web.jpg

Gifts for you, dear Thess, now wear your crown, you will have your wood and nails soon enough.
Portrait of the female Jesus no 3.jpg

And you will look beautiful as you accept your gift, and offer yourself as a new gift, innocent and willing.
shesusDSC_1941-web.jpg
 
phlebas said:
I found these pics in my "to post" folder and they immediately made me thing of Thess.

Some wood, some nails and a crown
View attachment 430123

Gifts for you, dear Thess, now wear your crown, you will have your wood and nails soon enough.
View attachment 430124

And you will look beautiful as you accept your gift, and offer yourself as a new gift, innocent and willing.
View attachment 430125
Click to expand...
Beautiful images and scenario. That captures the whole scene. Perfect.
 
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