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Facing The Wood

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Do it again until you get it right, Barb...[/QU
personaly i am fsscinated by the image of the dsrk haired german girl facing her cross with nails through the backs of her wrists and pinning her heels in place.her sweating body is barely off the ground
her aching pussy is brutally impaled on a rough wooden phallus stretchinng her middlle hole to its limits. her generous ass mounds rise on either side of a deep crack. clearly visible in thst flershy

that sweaty crevice is her wrinkled brown back hole. as the german groans and pulls herself up on the nails to gain some brief re.spite for her violated fuck hole, her butt cheeks flex with the agonized effort to rise. her vulnerable anus opens just a bit and whispeers " rape me, fill my asshole with cock juice and complete my humiliation"!

that sweaty crevice is her wrinkled brown back hole. as the german groans and pulls herself up on the nails to gain some brief re.spite for her violated fuck hole, her butt cheeks flex with the agonized effort to rise. her vulnerable anus opens just a bit and whispeers " rape me, fill my asshole with cock juice and complete my humiliation"!
I slip two fingers into the barbarians ass to see what will happen
y

oh gracious me. how very hot
 
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You yourself will be crucified facing the cross, fat slave girl. Everybody passing by will verbally abuse you. They will complain about the "fat useless whore hanging around lazily".

Some of them will complain to the police that it's causing psychological harm to them when they have to look at such an ugly, giant white ass, dancing on the cross. Especially the slim business women will ceaselessly mock you for you being fat and ugly.

But the men will be aroused by that fat wench screaming for help on top of her high pitched voice.
 
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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 went through my script book, and I have this Story, when two criminals, Andra and Cire, are marched to the crucifiction site.
As the two arrive there at the scene, the soldiers just got done crucifying a slave girl along with two of her male friends. The guys hanging naked with the arms tied behind the Crossbar, and the girl has been forced, after she has been stripped, to climb up a little ladder that the soldiers had leaned to the upright of an already rosen and secured cross.
She has just gotten tied to the cross, facing the wood. The soldiers have also placed a plug as a seat, and a footrest on the back of the cross for her. Her legs are sort of wrapped around the Stipes and there is all kind of bitching and cursing going on, while the Titulus for that obviously stubborn slave girl is placed.
The soldiers are creating a maximum of Entertainment for the crowd at this point, by the way they are handling the condemned.
Even though the Slave Girl has been flogged, her body is still intact and so is her mind.
She is strongly abusing the Crucifiers and the crowd, that has gathered on this afternoon nearby the roman castle by the Border, to watch the victims struggle on their crosses.
Laughter and mumbling is filling the place, while her crucifiction is executed. You can read the Titulus now stating, that she is crucified for insurgent behaviour. The Slave guys are crucified just for being her friend.
With the back to the crowd she has a hard time watching the scene, just when a spectator is walking around her cross, she can curse right into his face. Meanwhile she tries to find comfort on the cross, sometimes pulling herself to the Stipes, having her beasts separated by the raw wood, to breathe free, sometimes standing up and pulling herself completely aside off the Stipes.
She can get a glance to her crucified Slave friends and when she is turning her head she is able to monitor the crucifiction of the criminals, that is now taking place just a few yards away behind her back.
By all the laughter, bitching and cursing it is hard to believe that the crucified are facing the ultimat death:).
 
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The system has kicked me out, this is how I wanted it:
I went through my script book, there is this Story, when two criminals, Andra and Cire, are marched to the crucifiction site after their trial and the whipping.
As the two arrive there at the scene with the crossbeams on their backs, the soldiers just got done crucifying a slave girl along with two of her male friends.
The guys hanging, almost naked besides a loincloth, with the arms tied behind the Crossbar. The girl has been forced, after she had been completely stripped by the soldiers, to climb up a little ladder that the executers had leaned to the upright of an already rosen and secured cross.
She has just gotten tied to the cross, facing the wood. The soldiers have also placed a plug as a seat, and a footrest on the back of the Stipes for her. Her legs are sort of wrapped around the Stipes and there is all kind of bitching and cursing going on, while the Titulus for that obviously stubborn slave girl is placed.
The soldiers are creating a maximum of Entertainment for the crowd at this point, by the way they are handling the condemned.
Even though the Slave Girl has been flogged, her body is still intact and so is her mind.
She is strongly abusing the Crucifiers and the crowd, that has gathered on this afternoon nearby the roman castle by the Border, to watch the victims struggle on their crosses.
Laughter and mumbling is filling the place, while her crucifiction is executed. You can read the Titulus now stating, that she is crucified for insurgent behaviour. The Slave guys are crucified just for being her friend.
The whole thing was triggered by their Slave owner, who would like to discipline the rest of his Slaves.
With the back to the crowd it is not easy for her watching the scene. Just when a spectator is walking around her cross, she can curse right into his face.
Meanwhile she tries to find comfort on the cross, sometimes pulling herself to the Stipes, having her breasts separated by the raw wood.
Sometimes standing up and pulling herself completely aside, off the Stipes.
When she is sitting on the plug, her arms are completely stretched, giving her trouble to breathe. From time to time she is throwing her head back, to get more air into her lungs. Then the seat plug is stressing punctual, rising again, searching for comfort.
She can also get a glance to her crucified Slave friends and when she is turning her head she is able to monitor the crucifiction of the two criminals, that is now taking place just a few yards away, behind her back.
The laughter, bitching and cursing making it almost impossible to believe, that the crucified are facing the ultimat death:).
 
This worthless,pathetic cur has failed to satisfy his Mistress,Domina...she will have him beaten,and perhaps if she feels the need,follow it with his crucifixion. !!
His screams of agony,will be music to her ears !!
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disclaimer....I really was flogged,and enjoyed every bit of it !! Lol.
 
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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
How did I ever miss this???
 
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