hannibal's male crucifixion 3d picture and stories

[Balti]

Longinus slowly approaches me and passes his hand over my back and buttocks, reviving my wounds and making me scream in pain. “No, Hadrianus. I see too much intact skin. I want him to suffer at least a dozen good lashes of the whip again. You are exhausted, I will be happy to whip him. Guard, take my clothes! ”

Indeed, the pre-crucifixion flagellation and whipping of a condemned man is hot and sweaty work and leaves the flogger drenched in sweat before long. Longinus takes off his uniform and all his clothes until he is dressed only in his loincloth. He then heats up the whip, slicing it through the air.

I look back and see a handsome, strong and muscular man. In addition, he is completely rested. I realize that I will suffer like never before.

He is two or three steps from me and says “ready, thief? I bow my head and whisper a weak yes. “Now you will feel what a real flogging is!”

The first blow immediately follows: it is a real explosion of pain that assails me. Longinus is powerful, precise in his lashes and very fast: I have no respite between two lashes. I scream with unparalleled strength so far. The hated whip lacerates my naked body in the most terrifying way. I want this brutal punishment to stop. I stupidly think that my crucifixion after this will be easy. I’m about to faint when he stops.

“Get the thief down! The flagellation is over. I’m going to read out the proclamation of his death sentence and then it will be time to nail and crucify the bastard!”

That executioner in loincloth looks promising .... cant wait for what is about to happend

 

[ShadowGuy]

Longinus slowly approaches me and passes his hand over my back and buttocks, reviving my wounds and making me scream in pain. “No, Hadrianus. I see too much intact skin. I want him to suffer at least a dozen good lashes of the whip again. You are exhausted, I will be happy to whip him. Guard, take my clothes! ”

Indeed, the pre-crucifixion flagellation and whipping of a condemned man is hot and sweaty work and leaves the flogger drenched in sweat before long. Longinus takes off his uniform and all his clothes until he is dressed only in his loincloth. He then heats up the whip, slicing it through the air.

I look back and see a handsome, strong and muscular man. In addition, he is completely rested. I realize that I will suffer like never before.

He is two or three steps from me and says “ready, thief? I bow my head and whisper a weak yes. “Now you will feel what a real flogging is!”

The first blow immediately follows: it is a real explosion of pain that assails me. Longinus is powerful, precise in his lashes and very fast: I have no respite between two lashes. I scream with unparalleled strength so far. The hated whip lacerates my naked body in the most terrifying way. I want this brutal punishment to stop. I stupidly think that my crucifixion after this will be easy. I’m about to faint when he stops.

“Get the thief down! The flagellation is over. I’m going to read out the proclamation of his death sentence and then it will be time to nail and crucify the bastard!”

Literally can't get enough of this scene!

 

[hb21]

Longinus takes back his clothes and look in his uniform for the parchment that will seal my destiny.

The soldiers remove the shims from my crossbar and loosen my feet. They hang, without strength, and unable to hold my exhausted body up. I’m starting to feel the fear of nailing to the cross. I am exhausted and horrified by the intensity of my flogging but I am terrorized afterwards. The nails will soon be hammered mercilessly into my flesh. The guards lift the patibulum and I with it, but unlike my predecessors, when they took their patibulums off their stipes, they let go of everything. I try in vain to hold the patibulum that hits the tree before falling on the ground, the sedile hitting my balls along the way.

I fall face to the ground with my arms still tied in a cross. The guards raise me up and support me against my stipe. I must stand, facing the crowd, humiliated by my nudity, for the reading of the proclamation of my death sentence condemning me to death by crucifixion.

The trunk against my back supports me but the contact of the bark awakens the pain of my lacerated back. It will be even worse when I hang naked on my cross and my back and buttocks rub against it. The soldiers are obliged to support my aching body during the reading out of the proclamation of my death sentence. I shake my head to chase the flies that are already buzzing around me, attracted by the stench of my naked, sweat-drenched body.

From the corner of my eye I can see Gidon and Yonatan fighting up on their crosses with their penises on full view. I don’t want to observe them anymore because it terrifies me to see my future, which is now only moments away from reality. Their piercing cries force Longinus to raise his voice. « ..... he has been condemned to death by crucifixion in the name of Rome, his gods and his people! He is to be crucified!!”

He then approaches me and as for Gidon and Yonathan before me, he pulls my head back to force me to look him in the eyes while he grabs my balls with the other hand and has fun kneading them enjoying my terrified squeaks “So thief, your penis is no longer as stiff as before: obviously being flogged does not have the same effect as watching. But don’t worry, I’ll give you a little gift later that will allow you to proudly show off your manhood unless someone comes to save you but I still don’t see anyone. You will now be nailed to the cross of death and your penis that you wanted to hide under a loincloth on full view to the crowd who have come to watch you being crucified.”

He lets go of me and turns to the guards: “Guards, crucify him. Crucify this dog!! These robbers will never learn that we are not joking with the law. We will always have crosses available for them. We must exterminate the criminals who are disrupting our city. Crucify him!!”

I would like to say that I am a rich merchant, respected in my community, but it would make no difference. What he sees is a naked, dirty, sweating, stinking and bleeding criminal with despair in his eyes. How could someone respectable stand tied to a patibulum, naked, whipped, his hanging balls exhibited in front of the crowd? I became the little thief and I will be put to death as such. My body, like all slaves and condemned criminals, will be denied the dignity of burial. I am condemned to be crucified. I mentally pray to all the gods I know “gods, if you exist, pity, make my death quick.”

 

[hb21]

The guards are content to let go of my patibulum, but unable to stand, I collapse against the trunk skinning my back even more. They then grab my ankles and pull me away from the stipe until I am lying flat on the ground. I scream because of the pain of the gravel rubbing my buttocks and flogged back but I do not resist and do not kick my legs like Gidon and Yonatan did when they were about to be crucified, it would be useless. A guard sits on my thighs and keeps my ankles on the ground with all his weight.

The soldier who will crucify me now arrives and kneels down at my right wrist. His fingers probe my wrist to find the right place between the two bones. I will be able to hang with all my weight without my body detaching or bleeding too much. He marks the position by skinning my skin with the tip of the nail. I start moaning with terror.

My crucifixion is about to begin, it’s real, it’s not a nightmare. I am about to be crucified.

He starts hammering the nail into a small wooden plate that will prevent my wrist from pulling the nail through. That’s it, he’s ready. He places the tip of the nail on the bleeding mark on my wrist and lifts the hammer. I clench my teeth, stiffen my body and hold my breath when I see my crucifier slam the hammer down with all his strength.

I scream with all my strength. The pain is unbearable: the nail penetrates my wrist tearing the flesh and nerves. It’s worse than I imagined. A second blow causes the nail to pierce my wrist fully and embed in the wood of my patibulum. Oh Gods! The third blow is just as painful and I feel the wooden plate slam against my wrist and crush it against the wood of the patibulum.

The pain is phenomenal and I realize that my crucifier is struggling to maintain his balance as I arch my body off the ground so much, pushing up on my feet and arching my lacerated back and ass off the stony earth. My penis and balls jump in all directions against my stomach and thighs. I can’t believe that these piercing cries come out of my mouth. But already the crucifier has moved to my other arm and now holds the nail with the plate against my left wrist and raises the hammer.

The pain is monumental, enormous. My second wrist is now pierced, nailed, forever fixed to the wood of my patibulum in five blows. This pain adds up to the other that radiates along my right arm and explodes into my brain. Pain is added to pain to create a ferocious agony. The pain pulsates in my body as if it had its own life. I scream. I scream like never before. When the guard frees my legs, I arch, I kick off the ground, I twist but nothing reduces the unbearable pain.

 

[hb21]

The soldiers now lift my patibulum up off the ground, sending waves of pain into my arms. I scream as they hoist up my patibulum. I am back on my feet even if I can only stand because the men hold my patibulum upright. The movement of my injured wrists sends discharges of intense pain that run along my body.

I struggle in my torment to lean forward on my feet and bend at my waist to try and relieve my wrists and take the weight of my patibulum into my shoulders But they are nailed fast and the soldiers are now ready to lift my patibulum up into the air to fix it to the stipe.

I’m on my toes. One more push and my feet leave the ground forever, never to go back. The pain is colossal now that I hang by my tortured wrists. I scream and scream!! I’m not trying to put my feet on the stipe because I know that the guards will stop me.

The crucifiers always raise the patibulum higher to pass it over the top of the stipe and place it in the notch. The sedile rubs and scratches my back in the process as my body is dragged up along it. Then a soldier shouts: “Everything is placed correctly. His patibulum is in place on the groove. You can let it go!”

The patibulum falls into the notch and I scream more loudly when the patibulum finally slams into its notch. The shock revives the terrible pain in both my wrists.

In addition, my ass was penetrated by a large wooden cornu that Longinus has attached to the sedile while my wrists were being nailed. I feel my anus being suddenly impaled by the cornu, while the branch acting as my sedile scratches the tender skin between my legs. My penis and testicles hang on the right side. With this damn piece of wood between my legs, I can’t hide them. I am now totally humiliated as I am fucked by the wooden cornu up my ass that now presses on my prostate, making my penis react, which lengthens and grows.

The only positive point is that in settling my ass and hole on both the sedile and cornu they take my body weight and reduce the traction on my wrists.

I can’t really see them because of the wooden plates, but the blood, dark red and syrupy, slowly flows from each plate down along my arms and drips on the ground from my elbows. I look down at my heaving sweat-soaked chest and see that I am splashed with my own blood.

My crucifier is approaching again. Oh gods, it’s the turn of my ankles to be nailed! He will nail them. He will complete the process of crucifying me now. I tremble with terror. A guard bends my right knee and places my ankle flat against the stipe. A nail soon pierces the bone of my ankle. I hear and feel the bone crack as the nail drives through until my ankle is firmly attached to the stipe.

My screams are still increasing in intensity. I have a stupid thought: one more leg, then it will be over. I will have been crucified. My crucifixion process will then be complete and my long crucifixion agony will only then begin.

He now lifts my left leg and places my ankle flat on the other side of the stipe, my leg slightly bent. Another hammer blow, a terrible pain breaks out in my left ankle. I again hear the bone crack and split.

And another blow!

And another!

Finally, it is done. The hammering stops.

The crucifixion process is now complete.

I have been crucified!

I am crucified!!

It’s an infernal torture! I have been crucified. I discover what it means to be nailed naked to a cross.

This is how I’m going to die! I see the merchant who condemned me. He stops to enjoy my torment.

 

[hb21]

next part.... i don't know when but i work on it.

 

[Madiosi]

next part.... i don't know when but i work on it.

Take the time you need. Your work is very remarkable! Thank you for all!

 

[c_laudius]

Good story. Without wishing to infringe on the original author, I am writing my own, alternate, ending and hope to post it soon.

 

[c_laudius]

Disclaimer:
English is not my native language and I would like to apologize for my spelling and grammar which is not quite correct.
If anyone feels inclined to edit my text I would appreciate it.
Parts of the text may be used to add to the original story.
I hope you enjoy it and look forward to your comments and observations.

Claudius


I expected that after the violence of flogging and hammering, the pain would subside a little. But now that I am well and truly crucified, immediately my death struggle begins. I have to fight to survive but every movement hurts. Even not moving, which is seemingly impossible, is painful. The pain is untold, overwhelming and omnipresent. I cannot do anything without torturing myself. When my torturers release me, I can barely lean on my ankles and lower myself. My flogged back rubs on the roughly scraped beam and the wounds are opened further. The cornu pricks my buttocks. I seek support but I can only do so if I let the cornu penetrate my anus. It is the horn of a bovine and the deeper I sink the further my anus is gouged open. It offers little relief but adds a new pain. Eventually the thing is fully inside me and I am more or less supported with my cock and balls hanging askew over the seat support.

Now that my torturers have withdrawn I realize how much I am hanging there unprotected in full view of everyone. All eyes of the crowd are on us. Angry stares because we are criminals, happy stares because we are getting our deserved punishment and mocking stares because we are hanging there open and exposed. Nailed definitively to a sturdy cross with thick nails. Naked exposed to the scorching sun and biting insects and onlookers.
When they hammered the first nail into my wrist, connecting it to the wood like that, I was shocked by the impotence and irreversibility. After the second nail, I realized there was nothing more I could do. With my arms spread out, fixed to the beam I had been rendered utterly defenseless. For a moment I had still supported myself with my feet on the round but now those too were stuck to the wood with heavy, solid nails. I looked at my fingers and even they could no longer move. My thumbs were folded inward but motionless because of the torn tendons.

Despite the seat support, I have to pull myself up to breathe again. My wrists seem to tear open. Infernal pain shoots through my arms which cramp. I run out of breath and desperately turn my head in all directions with my mouth wide open. I stay like this for a while until the pain in my arms becomes too intense and I lower myself again. Then I see my fellow sufferers doing the same thing. How miserable they look. Blood dripping down their arms, gurgling for breath with wide open mouths. With open arms and spread legs, they show their dirty, sweaty, smelly bodies and bare, dangling sex to the onlookers. Their legs tremble and their bellies rise and fall. Moisture is dripping from Gideon's penis. Now that the big crowd has ended and things are getting relatively quieter come the flies. Thick, blue flies feasting on our blood, our sweat, our moisture. They know we can't do anything to them. They are the repulsive flies that eat carrion, sitting by the hundreds on carcasses. They crawl into my mouth and nose. To them, I am already dead. Occasionally I get a vicious sting. At first I want to defend myself by moving but that is too painful or by blowing, which is also too heavy. I resign myself to it. Mercilessly they fly buzzing around me and crawling over me. They are in all my wounds. I feel their paws and dozens of stings. The bites in my mouth make my tongue swell. They don't spare my moist groin, cock and scrotum either.

I get a cramp in a calf and, crying, I let myself hang. It doesn't help. I panic. I push myself up and the pain gets even fiercer. The cramp stays and my foot also cramps. I can't do anything, anything at all. I gasp and have to let myself hang on. My wrists are on fire. I no longer see well. Everything becomes blurred. I will die. In fact, I have to die here; that is my fate. Our destiny. To die lonely, naked and outcast and rot on the cross. Then I startle, I've been gone for a moment and nauseated I try to take a deep breath. I push and pull myself up again. The cornu slides out of my butthole. In desperation to try a new position I thrust my lower belly forward. Some women turn away demurely as I push my cock and scrotum grotesquely in their direction. How perverse they must think I am for showing my intimate parts so unashamedly. One of the guards notices and with the tip of his spear against my sack he pushes me back and I lower myself back onto the cornu. Then I push myself up again and then again I collapse. It is almost a continuous movement in which I scream, cry and whimper. Everything, literally everything about my body hurts. Ants have crawled up along the pole and are now coming up higher along my legs. Some are already on my cock and sack and crawling into my anus and piss tube. A warm gust of wind brings dust scraping into my wounds.
I see a man standing by the Romans passing around a jug of wine. I think I have already seen that one somewhere. But I am too tired, too exhausted. Then he walks in front of Gideon with his eyes fixed on his genitals. Now I know, it is Aden Salehi, nicknamed the Egyptian. He goes around the county markets with his stall. I am afraid of that man because I know what he does. He sells amulets and good luck charms in the form of penises, testicles and ball sacks. Especially penises of black warriors but also of slaves. Rumor has it that he buys up worthless, finished slaves at a bargain price. He takes them to his workshop where the are killed and he prepares their penises and balls. But the most expensive objects are the dicks and ball sacs of crucified slaves that are cut off from them alive. Meanwhile, he has come to stand before me and I know that he can do what he wants with me. I am at his mercy. I am glad he turns around and rejoins the people.

For a long time I have felt I need to relieve myself. I relax but I can't. I want to empty my bladder and bowels. When I pull up I squeeze my buttocks irresistibly with exertion and when I lower myself and relax the cornu is deep in my anus. It is terrible. I feel stinging in my penis. Aggressive ants stab me internally in my piss tube and leave a burning sensation.

In a blur, I see my torturers leaving. They have done their work. We are hanging on the cross and we are going to die. The sun is high and they are relieved. They go contentedly to the barracks to eat something and drink wine. Maybe they will joke about us. How I cried like a woman and begged for mercy. How Yonatan pissed himself. How we all got erections in the face of death. How we howled like dogs as they grabbed our sack and squeezed our balls. How the spectators enjoyed all that and cheered them on to beat even more violently, to flog us even more fiercely, to torture our testicles even more. How dirty flies crawled into our mouths and insects crawled over our sweaty genitals. An insect crawls into my piss tube and there is nothing I can do. When the beast is halfway down my penis I feel a sting. Then another. They are in my ears, nose and mouth. It hurts. But everything hurts.

The spectators starts to leave, one by one and some in groups. They come down the row to enjoy once more. Most are women, but also men and, sporadically, a family. Most look at us expressionless, others smile affably or look at each other approvingly. Unable to do anything or hide anything we hang there. They scold us or spit at us once more. Powerless, we allow ourselves to be looked at from head to toe. If their gazes continue to rest on our waist, it is an additional humiliation. Especially if they are women who look at our genitals and seem to grin at them or smile at each other. Some spit on us even before they turn their backs on us. Like criminals, thugs and troublemakers, we belong here in this place: fully exposed, weakened by severe flogging, firmly nailed down and visible from afar. We hear them say that it is our deserved punishment that we receive. That we must pay for our deeds and that it is only right that we hang here nailed to a cross. We hang and suffer here as examples for other criminals. We are scum, scum that must not only be removed from society but executed in the most painful, degrading and humiliating way. After a life of crime, justice will be done and we will receive our deserved reward. But before they kill us, we will be rendered completely defenseless. Our nailed hands will no longer steal or plunder. They will no longer grope women and children immorally. Our feet, firmly nailed to the wood will no longer go out to plunder or rob. The time of hornily defiling and degrading women and girls is over now that our testicles and filthy cocks are crushed against the wood. As inferior beings we are going to die and not even get a grave. Because of this, our spirits will not leave for our ancestors.
Dead we will remain on the cross for days to come. In the sun, at the mercy of flies and birds of prey who will peck our eyes out of their sockets. Who will tear pieces of flesh from our bodies. They will start with the soft parts first. The sharp jaws will peck testily at our penis first. Then the jaws will bite and pull and tug at the glans like a fat worm that needs to be pulled from the bottom. The skin will yield and recoil. Until a bloody piece will tear off. And then another part. Same with the scrotum that will soon tear and the crows will tear off patches of skin and gobble up the testicles. The vicious birds will take up post on the crossbeam and peck at our ears, cheeks and shoulders. A few days after our terrible death, Romans are going to come with some slaves to clean us up. Mutilated and dishonored beyond recognition, we will be taken off our cross to make way for a new condemned one. First they are going to pull the nails out of our ankles and then push the crossbeam out of the standing post and drop us into the dust like a piece of dirt. The nails will be pulled out of our wrists and returned to the barracks with the patibulum to be used again.
The slaves will take us by a foot and drag us across the ground to below the hill. There is the stinking pit where all kinds of dirt from the town and unmarketable remains such as rotten fish and scraps from the slaughter will be dumped. Our carcasses are dumped among ears, snouts, bones, tails and uteruses of cattle. We will suffer forever, even long after wild dogs, vultures another scavengers have eaten our rotting carcasses bare.

I have to pull myself up again. I cry in silence because I can no longer make a sound. It dizzies me. With the flies also come the big ants which, if possible, are even meaner. The sun is past its highest point. Gideon begs for water. I do too, my lips feeling thick and torn. The two soldiers who have relieved the squad of crucifiers look into the wooden bucket standing there. In it is a branch with a rag they can use to hand us water. I am hot and sometimes I hang shivering. I need to piss and relieve myself but I can't. It is as if I am delirious. I shift my position and the cornu goes a long way out of my body again. Until I sink back onto it. My penis is now trapped between my body the wooden support I am sitting on. The soldiers look into the bucket and seem to confer with each other. I hold my head back again. My neck hurts. My belly is swollen. I lift myself up and relax my bladder. I want to piss and look at my dick dangling there as three women dressed in black stare at me. My cock begins to swell slightly and out of a last vestige of embarrassment I quickly let myself fall back down. I am now on my scrotum and sobbing I lift myself up again. Then, as I lower myself it is better. I look at my fellow convicts. Their bodies are shining and suffering in their death throes and I see black flies crawling over them. They are also in my mouth, nose and crawling over my eyes. Yonathan and Gideon's feet are swollen and blue. Like mine, their hands are almost black. My hands feel warm and thick and I lose feeling in them. My wrists then hurt all the more. I hang by my arms to give my ankles and cramped legs some rest. I let myself hang forward. The nails tug at my wrists and send fierce jolts of pain to my brain. I want to die.
I see Yonathan sucking up water the soldiers hand him with the rag. In a cracked voice, I also beg for water and don't know if they can hear. But they also give Gideon a drink and then come to me. They hand me the dirty rag and gratefully I eagerly suck the liquid. It burns my lips but I suck in more. It is lukewarm and salty; it is their urine. After all, they pissed in the bucket. Maybe they will laugh at this joke in the barracks later. "The rebels and especially the thief were happy and grateful to drink our piss. They even asked for more, that's how much they liked the Roman piss. Hahahahaha..." The other soldiers will laugh along and drink some more wine.

Then there is a stir in the audience. People jab at each other and point at Gideon. All eyes focus on them. With some effort, I turn my head and see that he has an erection. Or at least that his penis is swollen and getting longer. How humiliating must that not be? Not only the fact of being exhibited there naked for every one to see your suffering but on top of that getting an erection. I watch as he desperately searches for air up and down cornu but his lengthening cock now swishes up and down. Then the unthinkable happens. Gideon cums at his crotch. First a gulp of seed shooting out of the bare glans and then a stream, a thick slosh of semen dripping from his penis and landing in front of his crotch. The people boo, cheer, laugh and scoff. They are having fun. Gasping for air, Gideon hangs from his nails sobbing in pain and shame.
I can barely pull myself up and breathe in short, pain-filled breaths. I let my head hang and see my mangled penis with its moist glans. There are flies on it and an ant is half inside my piss tube. As I hang forward like this I push myself up. It hurts but the cornu goes out of my anus for a moment. The thick horn that was in it keeps my anus open and immediately I feel insects crawling in. And they bite into my flesh, into my gut and penetrate deeper into my body. I am being tortured from the inside by insects. I lower myself onto the cornu again. That, too, is another torture.
The sun begins to set and all but a few spectators and children are gone.
Between breaths I doze off for a moment only to wake up panting painfully again. I then have to move again. The flies and ants are more numerous than ever. They bite me persistently.

A moment later, three horsemen rode onto the plain. Two Romans and when I recognize Aden Salehi, the Egyptian a chill runs through my body. They watch us for a moment, dismount, and talk and laugh a little with the two men. Then I see the Egyptian go to Yonatan. He ties a leather lace around the sack and penis for the convict. Then he does the same to Gidun and I too take my turn. I feel him put a lace around my balls and pull it painfully tight. Then he does the same with my penis. The few spectators approach curiously. One of the men goes at Yonathan with a heavy club. They are going to finish us off. They are going to break our legs so that we suffocate. One last torture before we die.
I see him slam the club forcefully against Yonathan's left shin. He groans and his body shakes but the bone does not break. Then he strikes again, harder now. Horrified, I hear the bone break. His leg is all crooked and Yonatan still tries to support himself on his other leg . The Egyptian now expertly cuts the penis and puts it in a pouch on his belt. It hardly bleeds and I see the ligated, blue scrotum hanging. Skillfully he is also cut off and the soldier smashes Yonatan's right shin which now breaks from the first lay. Yonatan's body slumps all the way hanging by the arms and he roars, inhales and roars again. It must be terrible. The men watch quietly and wait for the condemned man to die. Then the crucified man's head drops to his chest and drool runs from his mouth. A soldier pushes with his spear against the chest of Yonatan who gives no more sign of life. He is dead.
Then they go to Gideon. It is the other man now who breaks the legs. The Egyptian also does his work before the condemned man is dead. In a panic, I know my turn is coming. Frightened, I cry softly. I want to show that I am far from dead. Again I hear that terrible blow and Gideon's shin breaking and he lets out a long pained cry with his last breath. Desperately, I straighten up from my horn. I pant panicked and drool runs from my mouth. Gideon is dead and they come to stand in front of me. It is my turn to die. I feel my penis and balls hanging there between my opened thighs swinging grotesquely. I see them laughing. They are going to finish me and they laugh. The man lashes out and I feel and hear my shin crack. The pain is intense and I scream with the air I have left. I sink back down on the horn in one motion and try to lift myself up exhausted with my other leg that twitches and trembles for one last breath. I feel a hand around my penis which is quickly cut off. Much pain I don't feel. I see my dark penis that he puts in his pouch. Soon it will be sold at a market. Then in one motion my sack and testicles are cut off. Following my castration, my other leg is broken. I now hang fully from my cramped and tired arms and feel them being pulled out of the socket of my shoulders. I now hang all the way down and tiredly I lower my head. It is over. I feel the spear and apparently react for a moment. The soldier thrusts the spear into my body and I feel the steel enter my lung. One last rattle. Then it gets blurry and dark. I feel nothing more.
It's over.

 

[marvista]

Disclaimer:
English is not my native language and I would like to apologize for my spelling and grammar which is not quite correct.
If anyone feels inclined to edit my text I would appreciate it.
Parts of the text may be used to add to the original story.
I hope you enjoy it and look forward to your comments and observations.

Claudius


I expected that after the violence of flogging and hammering, the pain would subside a little. But now that I am well and truly crucified, immediately my death struggle begins. I have to fight to survive but every movement hurts. Even not moving, which is seemingly impossible, is painful. The pain is untold, overwhelming and omnipresent. I cannot do anything without torturing myself. When my torturers release me, I can barely lean on my ankles and lower myself. My flogged back rubs on the roughly scraped beam and the wounds are opened further. The cornu pricks my buttocks. I seek support but I can only do so if I let the cornu penetrate my anus. It is the horn of a bovine and the deeper I sink the further my anus is gouged open. It offers little relief but adds a new pain. Eventually the thing is fully inside me and I am more or less supported with my cock and balls hanging askew over the seat support.

Now that my torturers have withdrawn I realize how much I am hanging there unprotected in full view of everyone. All eyes of the crowd are on us. Angry stares because we are criminals, happy stares because we are getting our deserved punishment and mocking stares because we are hanging there open and exposed. Nailed definitively to a sturdy cross with thick nails. Naked exposed to the scorching sun and biting insects and onlookers.
When they hammered the first nail into my wrist, connecting it to the wood like that, I was shocked by the impotence and irreversibility. After the second nail, I realized there was nothing more I could do. With my arms spread out, fixed to the beam I had been rendered utterly defenseless. For a moment I had still supported myself with my feet on the round but now those too were stuck to the wood with heavy, solid nails. I looked at my fingers and even they could no longer move. My thumbs were folded inward but motionless because of the torn tendons.

Despite the seat support, I have to pull myself up to breathe again. My wrists seem to tear open. Infernal pain shoots through my arms which cramp. I run out of breath and desperately turn my head in all directions with my mouth wide open. I stay like this for a while until the pain in my arms becomes too intense and I lower myself again. Then I see my fellow sufferers doing the same thing. How miserable they look. Blood dripping down their arms, gurgling for breath with wide open mouths. With open arms and spread legs, they show their dirty, sweaty, smelly bodies and bare, dangling sex to the onlookers. Their legs tremble and their bellies rise and fall. Moisture is dripping from Gideon's penis. Now that the big crowd has ended and things are getting relatively quieter come the flies. Thick, blue flies feasting on our blood, our sweat, our moisture. They know we can't do anything to them. They are the repulsive flies that eat carrion, sitting by the hundreds on carcasses. They crawl into my mouth and nose. To them, I am already dead. Occasionally I get a vicious sting. At first I want to defend myself by moving but that is too painful or by blowing, which is also too heavy. I resign myself to it. Mercilessly they fly buzzing around me and crawling over me. They are in all my wounds. I feel their paws and dozens of stings. The bites in my mouth make my tongue swell. They don't spare my moist groin, cock and scrotum either.

I get a cramp in a calf and, crying, I let myself hang. It doesn't help. I panic. I push myself up and the pain gets even fiercer. The cramp stays and my foot also cramps. I can't do anything, anything at all. I gasp and have to let myself hang on. My wrists are on fire. I no longer see well. Everything becomes blurred. I will die. In fact, I have to die here; that is my fate. Our destiny. To die lonely, naked and outcast and rot on the cross. Then I startle, I've been gone for a moment and nauseated I try to take a deep breath. I push and pull myself up again. The cornu slides out of my butthole. In desperation to try a new position I thrust my lower belly forward. Some women turn away demurely as I push my cock and scrotum grotesquely in their direction. How perverse they must think I am for showing my intimate parts so unashamedly. One of the guards notices and with the tip of his spear against my sack he pushes me back and I lower myself back onto the cornu. Then I push myself up again and then again I collapse. It is almost a continuous movement in which I scream, cry and whimper. Everything, literally everything about my body hurts. Ants have crawled up along the pole and are now coming up higher along my legs. Some are already on my cock and sack and crawling into my anus and piss tube. A warm gust of wind brings dust scraping into my wounds.
I see a man standing by the Romans passing around a jug of wine. I think I have already seen that one somewhere. But I am too tired, too exhausted. Then he walks in front of Gideon with his eyes fixed on his genitals. Now I know, it is Aden Salehi, nicknamed the Egyptian. He goes around the county markets with his stall. I am afraid of that man because I know what he does. He sells amulets and good luck charms in the form of penises, testicles and ball sacks. Especially penises of black warriors but also of slaves. Rumor has it that he buys up worthless, finished slaves at a bargain price. He takes them to his workshop where the are killed and he prepares their penises and balls. But the most expensive objects are the dicks and ball sacs of crucified slaves that are cut off from them alive. Meanwhile, he has come to stand before me and I know that he can do what he wants with me. I am at his mercy. I am glad he turns around and rejoins the people.

For a long time I have felt I need to relieve myself. I relax but I can't. I want to empty my bladder and bowels. When I pull up I squeeze my buttocks irresistibly with exertion and when I lower myself and relax the cornu is deep in my anus. It is terrible. I feel stinging in my penis. Aggressive ants stab me internally in my piss tube and leave a burning sensation.

In a blur, I see my torturers leaving. They have done their work. We are hanging on the cross and we are going to die. The sun is high and they are relieved. They go contentedly to the barracks to eat something and drink wine. Maybe they will joke about us. How I cried like a woman and begged for mercy. How Yonatan pissed himself. How we all got erections in the face of death. How we howled like dogs as they grabbed our sack and squeezed our balls. How the spectators enjoyed all that and cheered them on to beat even more violently, to flog us even more fiercely, to torture our testicles even more. How dirty flies crawled into our mouths and insects crawled over our sweaty genitals. An insect crawls into my piss tube and there is nothing I can do. When the beast is halfway down my penis I feel a sting. Then another. They are in my ears, nose and mouth. It hurts. But everything hurts.

The spectators starts to leave, one by one and some in groups. They come down the row to enjoy once more. Most are women, but also men and, sporadically, a family. Most look at us expressionless, others smile affably or look at each other approvingly. Unable to do anything or hide anything we hang there. They scold us or spit at us once more. Powerless, we allow ourselves to be looked at from head to toe. If their gazes continue to rest on our waist, it is an additional humiliation. Especially if they are women who look at our genitals and seem to grin at them or smile at each other. Some spit on us even before they turn their backs on us. Like criminals, thugs and troublemakers, we belong here in this place: fully exposed, weakened by severe flogging, firmly nailed down and visible from afar. We hear them say that it is our deserved punishment that we receive. That we must pay for our deeds and that it is only right that we hang here nailed to a cross. We hang and suffer here as examples for other criminals. We are scum, scum that must not only be removed from society but executed in the most painful, degrading and humiliating way. After a life of crime, justice will be done and we will receive our deserved reward. But before they kill us, we will be rendered completely defenseless. Our nailed hands will no longer steal or plunder. They will no longer grope women and children immorally. Our feet, firmly nailed to the wood will no longer go out to plunder or rob. The time of hornily defiling and degrading women and girls is over now that our testicles and filthy cocks are crushed against the wood. As inferior beings we are going to die and not even get a grave. Because of this, our spirits will not leave for our ancestors.
Dead we will remain on the cross for days to come. In the sun, at the mercy of flies and birds of prey who will peck our eyes out of their sockets. Who will tear pieces of flesh from our bodies. They will start with the soft parts first. The sharp jaws will peck testily at our penis first. Then the jaws will bite and pull and tug at the glans like a fat worm that needs to be pulled from the bottom. The skin will yield and recoil. Until a bloody piece will tear off. And then another part. Same with the scrotum that will soon tear and the crows will tear off patches of skin and gobble up the testicles. The vicious birds will take up post on the crossbeam and peck at our ears, cheeks and shoulders. A few days after our terrible death, Romans are going to come with some slaves to clean us up. Mutilated and dishonored beyond recognition, we will be taken off our cross to make way for a new condemned one. First they are going to pull the nails out of our ankles and then push the crossbeam out of the standing post and drop us into the dust like a piece of dirt. The nails will be pulled out of our wrists and returned to the barracks with the patibulum to be used again.
The slaves will take us by a foot and drag us across the ground to below the hill. There is the stinking pit where all kinds of dirt from the town and unmarketable remains such as rotten fish and scraps from the slaughter will be dumped. Our carcasses are dumped among ears, snouts, bones, tails and uteruses of cattle. We will suffer forever, even long after wild dogs, vultures another scavengers have eaten our rotting carcasses bare.

I have to pull myself up again. I cry in silence because I can no longer make a sound. It dizzies me. With the flies also come the big ants which, if possible, are even meaner. The sun is past its highest point. Gideon begs for water. I do too, my lips feeling thick and torn. The two soldiers who have relieved the squad of crucifiers look into the wooden bucket standing there. In it is a branch with a rag they can use to hand us water. I am hot and sometimes I hang shivering. I need to piss and relieve myself but I can't. It is as if I am delirious. I shift my position and the cornu goes a long way out of my body again. Until I sink back onto it. My penis is now trapped between my body the wooden support I am sitting on. The soldiers look into the bucket and seem to confer with each other. I hold my head back again. My neck hurts. My belly is swollen. I lift myself up and relax my bladder. I want to piss and look at my dick dangling there as three women dressed in black stare at me. My cock begins to swell slightly and out of a last vestige of embarrassment I quickly let myself fall back down. I am now on my scrotum and sobbing I lift myself up again. Then, as I lower myself it is better. I look at my fellow convicts. Their bodies are shining and suffering in their death throes and I see black flies crawling over them. They are also in my mouth, nose and crawling over my eyes. Yonathan and Gideon's feet are swollen and blue. Like mine, their hands are almost black. My hands feel warm and thick and I lose feeling in them. My wrists then hurt all the more. I hang by my arms to give my ankles and cramped legs some rest. I let myself hang forward. The nails tug at my wrists and send fierce jolts of pain to my brain. I want to die.
I see Yonathan sucking up water the soldiers hand him with the rag. In a cracked voice, I also beg for water and don't know if they can hear. But they also give Gideon a drink and then come to me. They hand me the dirty rag and gratefully I eagerly suck the liquid. It burns my lips but I suck in more. It is lukewarm and salty; it is their urine. After all, they pissed in the bucket. Maybe they will laugh at this joke in the barracks later. "The rebels and especially the thief were happy and grateful to drink our piss. They even asked for more, that's how much they liked the Roman piss. Hahahahaha..." The other soldiers will laugh along and drink some more wine.

Then there is a stir in the audience. People jab at each other and point at Gideon. All eyes focus on them. With some effort, I turn my head and see that he has an erection. Or at least that his penis is swollen and getting longer. How humiliating must that not be? Not only the fact of being exhibited there naked for every one to see your suffering but on top of that getting an erection. I watch as he desperately searches for air up and down cornu but his lengthening cock now swishes up and down. Then the unthinkable happens. Gideon cums at his crotch. First a gulp of seed shooting out of the bare glans and then a stream, a thick slosh of semen dripping from his penis and landing in front of his crotch. The people boo, cheer, laugh and scoff. They are having fun. Gasping for air, Gideon hangs from his nails sobbing in pain and shame.
I can barely pull myself up and breathe in short, pain-filled breaths. I let my head hang and see my mangled penis with its moist glans. There are flies on it and an ant is half inside my piss tube. As I hang forward like this I push myself up. It hurts but the cornu goes out of my anus for a moment. The thick horn that was in it keeps my anus open and immediately I feel insects crawling in. And they bite into my flesh, into my gut and penetrate deeper into my body. I am being tortured from the inside by insects. I lower myself onto the cornu again. That, too, is another torture.
The sun begins to set and all but a few spectators and children are gone.
Between breaths I doze off for a moment only to wake up panting painfully again. I then have to move again. The flies and ants are more numerous than ever. They bite me persistently.

A moment later, three horsemen rode onto the plain. Two Romans and when I recognize Aden Salehi, the Egyptian a chill runs through my body. They watch us for a moment, dismount, and talk and laugh a little with the two men. Then I see the Egyptian go to Yonatan. He ties a leather lace around the sack and penis for the convict. Then he does the same to Gidun and I too take my turn. I feel him put a lace around my balls and pull it painfully tight. Then he does the same with my penis. The few spectators approach curiously. One of the men goes at Yonathan with a heavy club. They are going to finish us off. They are going to break our legs so that we suffocate. One last torture before we die.
I see him slam the club forcefully against Yonathan's left shin. He groans and his body shakes but the bone does not break. Then he strikes again, harder now. Horrified, I hear the bone break. His leg is all crooked and Yonatan still tries to support himself on his other leg . The Egyptian now expertly cuts the penis and puts it in a pouch on his belt. It hardly bleeds and I see the ligated, blue scrotum hanging. Skillfully he is also cut off and the soldier smashes Yonatan's right shin which now breaks from the first lay. Yonatan's body slumps all the way hanging by the arms and he roars, inhales and roars again. It must be terrible. The men watch quietly and wait for the condemned man to die. Then the crucified man's head drops to his chest and drool runs from his mouth. A soldier pushes with his spear against the chest of Yonatan who gives no more sign of life. He is dead.
Then they go to Gideon. It is the other man now who breaks the legs. The Egyptian also does his work before the condemned man is dead. In a panic, I know my turn is coming. Frightened, I cry softly. I want to show that I am far from dead. Again I hear that terrible blow and Gideon's shin breaking and he lets out a long pained cry with his last breath. Desperately, I straighten up from my horn. I pant panicked and drool runs from my mouth. Gideon is dead and they come to stand in front of me. It is my turn to die. I feel my penis and balls hanging there between my opened thighs swinging grotesquely. I see them laughing. They are going to finish me and they laugh. The man lashes out and I feel and hear my shin crack. The pain is intense and I scream with the air I have left. I sink back down on the horn in one motion and try to lift myself up exhausted with my other leg that twitches and trembles for one last breath. I feel a hand around my penis which is quickly cut off. Much pain I don't feel. I see my dark penis that he puts in his pouch. Soon it will be sold at a market. Then in one motion my sack and testicles are cut off. Following my castration, my other leg is broken. I now hang fully from my cramped and tired arms and feel them being pulled out of the socket of my shoulders. I now hang all the way down and tiredly I lower my head. It is over. I feel the spear and apparently react for a moment. The soldier thrusts the spear into my body and I feel the steel enter my lung. One last rattle. Then it gets blurry and dark. I feel nothing more.
It's over.

Superb and dramatic. and erotically gory. I only wish it were illustrated. Maybe HB or someone provide detailed illustrations. I especially have a fetish for the attack of insects on the helplessly crucified, not able to do anything. Also, women as spectators, jeering laughing and pointing.

 

[Masochist Slave]

A wonderful entertainment. The crowd seems to be enjoying this.

This is very sadistic and yes the crowd is enjoying their punishment

Exciting to see the first guy with his cock rubbed up against the wood getting whipped, but the last guy is losing his balls to the rough ride on the wooden stick below. what do you call that?

 

[hb21]

next part

thanks to Pyan for english translation from french

Part eight

Crucified.

I shift slightly. This simple movement sends my brain waves of pain from my ankles, wrists and the painfully impaled cornu up my anus which Longinus attached to my sedile. I re-position my body very slowly so that there is equal weight on both ankles. I sigh. For every movement I make today, my crucified body will pay an exorbitant price. And there would be no negotiation, no bargaining. The full rate will be extorted.

My penis trembles a little with my body, it is still erect because of the cornu up my anus that rubs my prostate with every movement but also because of the sight of beautiful crucified bodies of my young companions of misfortune. I notice the exciting twisting of Gidon and Yonatan’s sweat-drenched bodies on their crosses. Both are very beautiful, even after being tortured all morning.

Yonatan’s leanly muscled and hairy body is seductive, glistening with sweat and blood, as he arches his back out from his stipe and casts it in front of his cross. His flaccid penis and hanging testicles are agitated with each movement. Gidon’s penis was soft but his size shows that he is, like me, in a relatively excited sexual state despite or because of the pain his body is suffering. His beautiful cock slaps his firm lower stomach and thighs and flies in all directions.

I think that if I stay as still as possible, the pain will be less severe. However, by observing the other crucified men, I begin to doubt. Indeed, my pain remains appalling and does not diminish over time. I see Gidon and Yonatan whose bodies do not stay still and are very active on their crosses. They move and twist their bodies in all directions, up and down, forward and backward, right and left. They squirm and twist their crucified bodies in all kinds of strange angles. They perform a dance of suffering on their crosses that excites me.

I wonder if it’s less painful to move constantly than to let yourself hang almost motionless. I start to rise my body up by pulling on my wrists. Flashes of pain burst in my arms up to my shoulders. I scream and push on the bones of my nailed broken ankles. It’s a real torture but by lifting my body up I realize that I breathe more easily and that the pain in my chest and arms decreases.

After a few tens of seconds, the pain in my legs is too strong and I collapse again and involuntarily I push the cornu further up into my body. The cornu painfully impaling my anus does not permit my body to move much beyond going up and down. I am fucking myself on my cross. I have no choice but to endure suffering, shame and total humiliation.

The effect of the cornu impaling my anus causes my
penis to become hard and erect to the delight of the crowd that makes fun of my humiliation. I am shamed beyond belief. I can’t do anything to hide it. I try all imaginable positions but they are all equally painful and none allows me to hide my genitals.

Fighting against the cross is stupid: it will defeat crucified men anyway. But our instinct is to fight it, to fight to try to stay alive a little longer.

 

[Balti]

next part

thanks to Pyan for english translation from french

Part eight

Crucified.

I shift slightly. This simple movement sends my brain waves of pain from my ankles, wrists and the painfully impaled cornu up my anus which Longinus attached to my sedile. I re-position my body very slowly so that there is equal weight on both ankles. I sigh. For every movement I make today, my crucified body will pay an exorbitant price. And there would be no negotiation, no bargaining. The full rate will be extorted.

My penis trembles a little with my body, it is still erect because of the cornu up my anus that rubs my prostate with every movement but also because of the sight of beautiful crucified bodies of my young companions of misfortune. I notice the exciting twisting of Gidon and Yonatan’s sweat-drenched bodies on their crosses. Both are very beautiful, even after being tortured all morning.

Yonatan’s leanly muscled and hairy body is seductive, glistening with sweat and blood, as he arches his back out from his stipe and casts it in front of his cross. His flaccid penis and hanging testicles are agitated with each movement. Gidon’s penis was soft but his size shows that he is, like me, in a relatively excited sexual state despite or because of the pain his body is suffering. His beautiful cock slaps his firm lower stomach and thighs and flies in all directions.

I think that if I stay as still as possible, the pain will be less severe. However, by observing the other crucified men, I begin to doubt. Indeed, my pain remains appalling and does not diminish over time. I see Gidon and Yonatan whose bodies do not stay still and are very active on their crosses. They move and twist their bodies in all directions, up and down, forward and backward, right and left. They squirm and twist their crucified bodies in all kinds of strange angles. They perform a dance of suffering on their crosses that excites me.

I wonder if it’s less painful to move constantly than to let yourself hang almost motionless. I start to rise my body up by pulling on my wrists. Flashes of pain burst in my arms up to my shoulders. I scream and push on the bones of my nailed broken ankles. It’s a real torture but by lifting my body up I realize that I breathe more easily and that the pain in my chest and arms decreases.

After a few tens of seconds, the pain in my legs is too strong and I collapse again and involuntarily I push the cornu further up into my body. The cornu painfully impaling my anus does not permit my body to move much beyond going up and down. I am fucking myself on my cross. I have no choice but to endure suffering, shame and total humiliation.

The effect of the cornu impaling my anus causes my
penis to become hard and erect to the delight of the crowd that makes fun of my humiliation. I am shamed beyond belief. I can’t do anything to hide it. I try all imaginable positions but they are all equally painful and none allows me to hide my genitals.

Fighting against the cross is stupid: it will defeat crucified men anyway. But our instinct is to fight it, to fight to try to stay alive a little longer.

finally some action

 

[hb21]

Unfortunately with all the movement of my body, which can only go up and down, the cornu moving in and out of my anus as I move my body up and down causes my penis to go completely erect and pre-ejacatory fluid is soon starting to pearl from my glans. I see the merchant Demetrius talking with Longinus, giving him a gold coin and approaching me.

“I told you that I would come back to play with you. I waited all morning for this moment when I will be able to totally humiliate you.” He moves himself to my side, slides one hand behind my buttocks and starts kneading them while with the other he grabs my rigid penis and starts masturbating it. I try to escape his contact but the pain is too strong and I start screaming and begging him in vain to stop. I am totally at his mercy with his hands on my body and squeezing my penis.

The crowd laughs more loudly and I am humiliated and totally shamed to feel my cock respond to his stimulation. Quickly the mixture of pain and pleasure increases, my body is seized with spasms and I can’t help but ejaculate, crying with shame in front of the public. As I ejaculate, I can feel my anus wildly gripping the cornu with each shot I release, causing me further pain.

Demetrius prolongs the torture by long minutes by continuing to massage my glans lubricated with sperm and squeezes my balls. I moan more despairingly and I try to lift my body up despite the pain. When I finally collapse my exhausted body back down fully onto the cornu, now totally defeated and broken, he lets me go and leaves after one last slap on my cock.

 

[Balti]

Unfortunately with all the movement of my body, which can only go up and down, the cornu moving in and out of my anus as I move my body up and down causes my penis to go completely erect and pre-ejacatory fluid is soon starting to pearl from my glans. I see the merchant Demetrius talking with Longinus, giving him a gold coin and approaching me.

“I told you that I would come back to play with you. I waited all morning for this moment when I will be able to totally humiliate you.” He moves himself to my side, slides one hand behind my buttocks and starts kneading them while with the other he grabs my rigid penis and starts masturbating it. I try to escape his contact but the pain is too strong and I start screaming and begging him in vain to stop. I am totally at his mercy with his hands on my body and squeezing my penis.

The crowd laughs more loudly and I am humiliated and totally shamed to feel my cock respond to his stimulation. Quickly the mixture of pain and pleasure increases, my body is seized with spasms and I can’t help but ejaculate, crying with shame in front of the public. As I ejaculate, I can feel my anus wildly gripping the cornu with each shot I release, causing me further pain.

Demetrius prolongs the torture by long minutes by continuing to massage my glans lubricated with sperm and squeezes my balls. I moan more despairingly and I try to lift my body up despite the pain. When I finally collapse my exhausted body back down fully onto the cornu, now totally defeated and broken, he lets me go and leaves after one last slap on my cock.

i love how they all got horny it is time for the guards to make some money and the crowd to enjoy

 

[hb21]

From the corner of my eye, I watch Gidon and Yonatan and see that the spectacle of my humiliation has excited them both in spite of themselves and who also now have beautiful erections standing out hard from their naked sweat-glistened bodies.

Longinus who wants to punish Gidon approaches him and after masturbating him ties his balls with a tight rope around his penis and testicles so that his erection does wilt and go down with pain like that of Yonatan and mine. Then he caresses his penis again but stops just before orgasm and moves away leaving Gidon humiliated and frustrated. Gidon begins to cry with shame but refuses to beg Longinus to make him ejaculate.

After this interlude, a soldier climbs to the top of Gidon’s cross. There he takes out a knife and cuts the ropes that bind Gidon’s arms to his patibulum. No need for them now that we are attached to the wood with nails. Then he removes the titulus from Gidon’s neck and nails it over the cross.

The man repeats the same task with Yonatan and me. I feel demoralized that this titulus is nailed above me in evidence of why I am being put to breath by crucifixion, telling all who pass by why I have been crucified. Now every person on this road would think that I am a thief, me, the rich merchant with the beautiful house and the servants. I was respected by all those who knew me. Until today.. Now I am less than nothing. I have been crucified!

I had the fine woven clothes made of cotton and canvas and even silk from the East. Now I am crucified completely naked, totally vulnerable, my hard penis exhibited in front of the public! Ah, that I would have liked to wear a loincloth to hide my genitals! This concession to my modesty would mitigate other humiliations. But the Romans know that the physical suffering of a crucified man is not enough to serve as an example. He must be made to suffer mentally by degrading and humiliating him, by preventing him from retaining the slightest dignity.

I look down and see my penis still covered in sperm and my balls too. Not only is the pain appalling, but my exposed penis makes me die of shame. My once-beautiful body is now disgusting. The hairs of my chest and pubes are caked with a mixture of sweat, dust and soil. My wrists are nailed to the patibulum. I can no longer perform simple tasks such as removing dirt from my skin. My whole body is coated with sweat mixed with the dust of the march to the crucifixion site and my back crusted with dirt and stones when they laid me on the rocky ground to nail me to the patibulum. Added to this is the manner in which my body now stinks.

 

[crassuswild]

finally some action

Ironic as it was written in English in the first place although allot has been changed

 

[yohanicus]

Unfortunately with all the movement of my body, which can only go up and down, the cornu moving in and out of my anus as I move my body up and down causes my penis to go completely erect and pre-ejacatory fluid is soon starting to pearl from my glans. I see the merchant Demetrius talking with Longinus, giving him a gold coin and approaching me.

“I told you that I would come back to play with you. I waited all morning for this moment when I will be able to totally humiliate you.” He moves himself to my side, slides one hand behind my buttocks and starts kneading them while with the other he grabs my rigid penis and starts masturbating it. I try to escape his contact but the pain is too strong and I start screaming and begging him in vain to stop. I am totally at his mercy with his hands on my body and squeezing my penis.

The crowd laughs more loudly and I am humiliated and totally shamed to feel my cock respond to his stimulation. Quickly the mixture of pain and pleasure increases, my body is seized with spasms and I can’t help but ejaculate, crying with shame in front of the public. As I ejaculate, I can feel my anus wildly gripping the cornu with each shot I release, causing me further pain.

Demetrius prolongs the torture by long minutes by continuing to massage my glans lubricated with sperm and squeezes my balls. I moan more despairingly and I try to lift my body up despite the pain. When I finally collapse my exhausted body back down fully onto the cornu, now totally defeated and broken, he lets me go and leaves after one last slap on my cock.

Worth the wait, thanks for these great illustrations

That executioner in loincloth looks promising .... cant wait for what is about to happend

Agree. Hope there'll be a sequel where Longinus (the executioner) himself ends up naked on a cross

 

[Patrizio]

Yes it is beautiful, the images are also beautiful, but how would it be more beautiful with real people and not 3D ......

 

[Madiosi]

@hb21 your art is amazing!