Jastrow's Pic of the Day

[thehangingtree]

Many technical achievements of Ancient civilisations have been lost throughout the ages. If you can build pyramids, aquaducts, majestic statues and temples, huge circusses, then nailing two girls to one cross must be a piece of cake!

They tend to move around a bit!!!!

 

[Jastrow]

Tuesday, August 7, 2018–Day 218. I had hoped to be able to finish up the Regina series but the Gods of 3-D Graphics are not cooperating. Sometimes they cooperate and sometimes they don’t. Today they are being complete douchebags. If I keep trying to finish this up today given the frustration I am currently experiencing, I would likely throw my computer out the window, so I will take a break and shut things down for the day and hopefully be able to finish the project up tomorrow or Thursday. Sorry. For now, here is another oldie from 2012. A condemned slave-girl on the way to her own crucifixion is made to stop and orally service her already-crucified mistress one final time while the assembled crowd taunts and degrades them. Entitled "A Last Service to her Mistress."

 

[Apostate]

If I keep trying to finish this up today given the frustration I am currently experiencing, I would likely throw my computer out the window,

Jas, I urge you not to do this.

Mind you though, in the old days those CRT monitors made a far more satisfying CRASH!!! than those wimpy, lightweight gadgets around today.

 

[Apostate]

Tuesday, August 7, 2018–Day 218. A condemned slave-girl on the way to her own crucifixion is made to stop and orally service her already-crucified mistress one final time while the assembled crowd taunts and degrades them. Entitled "A Last Service to her Mistress."

I was conducting an excavation over at Foundation and found this preliminary study of two ladies in somewhat forced flagrante.

And I like the finished version, Jas.

Lots.

 

[Jastrow]

I was conducting an excavation over at Foundation and found this preliminary study of two ladies in somewhat forced flagrante.

And I like the finished version, Jas.

Lots.

I'm not sure I have a copy of that image without the background....odd...

 

[phlebas]

Tuesday, August 7, 2018–Day 218. I had hoped to be able to finish up the Regina series but the Gods of 3-D Graphics are not cooperating. Sometimes they cooperate and sometimes they don’t. Today they are being complete douchebags. If I keep trying to finish this up today given the frustration I am currently experiencing, I would likely throw my computer out the window, so I will take a break and shut things down for the day and hopefully be able to finish the project up tomorrow or Thursday. Sorry. For now, here is another oldie from 2012. A condemned slave-girl on the way to her own crucifixion is made to stop and orally service her already-crucified mistress one final time while the assembled crowd taunts and degrades them. Entitled "A Last Service to her Mistress."

Strong image, Jas, very strong, and ties in with the recent cunning thread here
So which one would feel the most shame, the servicer or the serviced? I wonder. Hmm, err Kathy, Barb. Hop over here, I have an experiment I'd like to conduct

I'm not sure I have a copy of that image without the background....odd...

That happens.

Time for me to put out a plea again. There are 2 manips which I lost years ago in a hard disk failure, PH102 and PH104. If anyone has these I would be very keen to see them again. They would date from some time in 2002, and may be non crux. I was able to recover most of the lost work, the finished jpegs anyway I lost the original PSP files, but not these two.

 

[Jastrow]

Wednesday, August 8, 2018–Day 219. Good progress on REGINA. The 12 illustrations are now done (some of which have already been posted.) Now I’m working on the narrative to accompany them which I hope to have completed by tomorrow. In the meantime here’s one from a few years back (2012) called "Rocky Crux".

 

[Jastrow]

Thursday, August 9, 2018–Day 220. With just a few hours to go, here’s today’s rendering–from 2012 and entitled "Hooked on a Cross". I spent most of today redoing a number of the renders for REGINA in order to make the series tie together better. Tomorrow...I promise (although you’ve heard that before!)

 

[Apostate]

With just a few hours to go, here’s today’s rendering–from 2012 and entitled "Hooked on a Cross".

Jas, I’m going on the assumption that the inspiration for that wicked iron cornu was from Damian’s savage parody of the Crucifixion of Julia of Carthage. And I’m torn between and .

Whatever. Well damn done.

 

[Jastrow]

Jas, I’m going on the assumption that the inspiration for that wicked iron cornu was from Damian’s savage parody of the Crucifixion of Julia of Carthage. And I’m torn between and .

Whatever. Well damn done.

Nope. I hadn't seen the Damian pic. I just happened to have a hook prop and th9ught it might be fun to put it ' where the don't shine...'

 

[Apostate]

Nope. I hadn't seen the Damian pic. I just happened to have a hook prop and th9ught it might be fun to put it ' where the don't shine...'

I stand corrected. And you put that prop to good use.

 

[Jastrow]

Friday, August 10, 2018–Day 221. As promised, here are the 12 renderings in the Regina series. Don’t pay too much attention to the details of the backstory of how she came to this fate. This isn’t really Roman history. I can’t even tell you if Regina is her name or merely her title. You decide. Some of these were posted earlier, but I have tried to change the background to unify them into one story. There are some continuity issues, but that is to be expected since I never intended this to be one cohesive story. I’m calling the story, "Regina, the False Queen". Here’s Part 1.
1.) She stood surveying the gardens of the villa reflecting on the recent event. Six months ago, her husband, the ruler of this region had been stricken by a strange illness and had died unexpectedly. Knowing that she would be easy to control for their purposes, his advisors had arranged for her to take his place. She had placed her complete trust in them, not knowing that they were corrupt and cruel. Although she was oblivious to it, dissent and rebellion was in the air. Before his death, her husband had cautioned that any ruler served only by the grace of the guard–so long as they were on his side, all would be well. She had no reason to suspect that anything was amiss. For her part, she had vowed to be a good ruler–to be fair and just, and at times merciful–and she was determined to win the affection of her people. The morning was lovely. All was, it seemed, right with the world. Then she heard the footsteps of guard in the courtyard and heard the crashing sound of the door being broken in...

 

[Jastrow]

REGINA Part 2.) Six hours later she was dragged from the dungeon below the guard’s barracks and led to a courtyard filled with local citizens. She was totally naked. Her clothing had been ripped from her body by the guards, her lovely flowing ashen hair had been crudely hacked off and she had been severely beaten and whipped. As unpleasant as all that had been, the repeated rapes had been even worse. All of her intimate orifices had been brutally violated–again and again and again. She was in a daze as she was forced to her knees before the assembled crowd, a crown of thorns on her head. "Behold your would-be Queen! The False Queen," one of the guards said, addressing the crowd. "She would have made you kneel before her in submission, but now she kneels before like a common whore begging for another cock in her mouth." They all could clearly see what had been done to her–the whipmarks and bruises from her rough treatment that marred her lovely skin. They could also see the cum that leaked freely and lewdly from her ravaged lower openings and they could see the dazed look of disbelief on her face at what had so suddenly and unexpectedly shattered her comfortable existence. "Tomorrow morning she will be paraded, totally naked, through the village. Feel free to abuse and insult her as you wish during this journey. It is what she deserves. And then she’ll be paraded to the shore where we will nail her to the cross and leave her to die and rot. But before that happens, if you are interested, tonight you come to the barracks, and for a small price, you can take a turn at fucking her. I’ve already had her several times and so have my mates and I can tell you, all her holes are still deliciously tight, at least for a little while longer. She’s prime cunny and she makes the most delicious sounds when being fucked. She fancied herself a queen, but she’s really nothing more that a common whore and after a day or so on the cross, she’ll be nothing more than carrion for the hungry vultures..."

 

[Jastrow]

3.) As promised, before dawn the exhausted Regina was dragged to her feet and made ready for her final walk to her death. She could barely stand she was so exhausted from the rapes that had continued without a break since the previous afternoon. A surprisingly large number of the village men had paid for the opportunity to fuck throughout the long night. Her throat was bruised from repeatedly having cocks thrust deep inside her. Her bottom hole had been painfully stretched by numerous cocks and swollen and tender–the lightest touch causing angony. Her pussy was sodden mess–bruised and tender from the repeated rapes and cum and piss oozed from the swollen opening. Her ankles had been hobbled with a short length of rope which meant that she could only take the tiniest of awkward steps. Given the exhausted state she was in from the abuse she had already experienced, they had decided not to have her carry the patibulum. Instead that had tied her upper arms together behind her back which forced her tender, lovely tits out making a tempting target for abuse. Her wrists were tied together and a rope passed between her legs and through the cleft of her womanhood. The rough surface of the rope rubbed and abraded the tender tissues of her labia and her swollen clitoris. One of the men held the other end in his hand and if she hesitated in the slightest, a sharp pull on it provided sufficient motivation to mover her forward, however reluctantly. The parade through the village was filled with degradation and abuse. She was cursed, spit upon and garbage and overfilling piss and shit-pots were emptied on her body and face. Once they had completed their walk through the village, she was led across moor towards the place of her execution on the shore. The footing was not easy and rocks and sharp stones cut into the soles of her feet. Soon her feet and and shins were covered with mud, filth and muck. If she hesitated in the slightest, a quick jerk on the cunt-rope or a painful crack of the leather crop on her naked flesh pushed her forward towards her final destination...her waiting cross...

 

[Jastrow]

4.) Once at there, she had been untied and forced to the muddy ground. As she lay there, the guards had then taken turns fucking her one last time. She had screamed like a madwoman when the first nail was driven into her wrist. Mercifully, she had passed out from the pain and had been spared the anguish of feeling the other three nails driven in. It was a beautiful sunrise but she really didn’t appreciate it. She’d only been nailed to the cross a short while, but already the pain was unbelievable. How would she ever be able to endure it? The reality was that she wouldn’t–that the horrific agony would encompass until her death, which, unfortunately for her, was still some time away...

 

[Jastrow]

5.) The crowd watched her as she writhed on the cross. In addition to the guards, several of the townspeople had journeyed to watch her meet her fate. The sight of a naked woman dancing lewdly on a cross–gasping for breath–seeking comfort that she could never find was always entertaining–for them, at least, if not for her. The fact that she had once been their beautiful ruler, even for a little while, made spectacle of her degradation and destruction that much more special. All agreed, it had been well worth the long walk to be able to see it...

 

[Jastrow]

6.) The return of the soldier brought no comfort to her. She remembered the viciousness with which he had raped her before nailing her to the cross. Now totally helpless–naked and exposed–she feared what he would do to her. He didn’t disappoint her expectations. Her face and breasts were repeatedly and painfully slapped. Her nipples and clit were brutally pinched, squeezed, twisted, tugged until the tears streamed down her cheeks. He thrust his fingers deep inside the most tender and intimate recesses of her body–thrusting, scrapping, probing deeply as she whimpered and sobbing in pain and humiliation. Finally he stopped, looked into her tear-filled eyes, "You’re wearing yourself out too quickly and we want to keep you alive, alert and in agony for a long time. This will help..." From his bag, he extracted a wooden cornu which he nailed to the cross and then forced it deep into her already battered anus. She screamed as it was worked inside her and stretched the tight sheath of her rectum filling her completely. More than anything she wanted it out and she moaned in agony and shame at this crude violation. Still, it did the trick and provided her some support–however degrading it might he. It would keep her alive longer, which was, to be honest, no mercy. He gently brushed a strand of hair from out of her eyes and softly–almost tenderly-- touched her tear-streaked cheek before moving his hand lower and giving her nipple a painful pinch and a twist. He chuckled and whispered softly, "Don’t worry, slut. I’ll be back for more real soon..."

 

[Jastrow]

7.) She tried to image what she looked on the cross–naked, lewdly splayed open, the cornu deep in her battered rectum. She tried to imagine her lovely skin criss-crossed with welts and bruises, covered in filth. She could feel her brutalized cunt lips parted and fluid–a mixture of cum and piss leaked from her. All of the dignity she had once possessed had been taken from her. She tried to visualize her once pretty face imagined it was now nothing more than a mask of suffering, pain and degradation. She looked out on the horizon and saw nothing–nothing but emptiness and despair. All hope for a happy life was now gone and all she could hope for was death. But even that seemed an eternity away–an eternity of endless shame and anguish.

 

[Jastrow]

8.) She heard something fly a little ways above her head and looked up. A vulture flew low and close. "No! Not that!!!!" she cried. Several others circled slowly above her. Waiting...patient...Soon enough they would begin their feast of this tasty morsel spayed out below them. Another dimension of her horrible death was about to begin...

 

[Jastrow]

9.) Her panic grew as more and more of the birds arrived. For now they contented themselves with watching her. They knew that she would last much longer. But when it happened–when she was at last too weak to fight them off, they’d be waiting... Freshly dead flesh was the best...