carloscruz
Governor
The RL and my job are interfering with my literary perversions. I will try to post the next chapter as soon as possible. Give me two or three days please.
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MEMBERS of the CruxForums (Male and Female) end up Crucified for Real!
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fat slave girl
Regina Servorum
So this is it. This is how our twisted life of pervery together ends. And honestly, it couldn't end any better.
We received the emails separately but at exactly the same time and opened them together. We read them and looked at one another, then smiled. We knew we were both going to the Mediterranean for the holiday of a lifetime. And a deathtime.
And now we stand before the panel, butt naked, watching our last worldly possessions being carried off in bags. As we stood before the headmistress and listened to her reading back some of our posts, the extent of our crucifixion fantasies became clear even to us. When the question is posed as to why we obeyed this final summons, I answered for both of us.
“Because we've done everything else. There isn't an implement, a position, a hole, a sexual coupling or a bodily function we haven't exploited for our dark perverted pleasure. We can go on doing that or we can go out, together, doing the kink to beat all kinks.”
As I finished speaking I looked at nudeboy’s prick. Solid as a rock. I could have hung my hat on it, had I had one. But I didn't. We were both naked.
Our titulus written, the headmistress ordered us to be bound and fitted with our loincloths. It was a struggle to contain nudeboy’s erection, while the guard who fitted mine could not resist slipping a finger inside me to see how wet I was. Very, he discovered.
“Max, take them out and whip them. Together. Hang them up side by side. I want our happy couple to enjoy this experience as a couple.”
As we were marched off to taste the lash, my pussy tingled...
We received the emails separately but at exactly the same time and opened them together. We read them and looked at one another, then smiled. We knew we were both going to the Mediterranean for the holiday of a lifetime. And a deathtime.
And now we stand before the panel, butt naked, watching our last worldly possessions being carried off in bags. As we stood before the headmistress and listened to her reading back some of our posts, the extent of our crucifixion fantasies became clear even to us. When the question is posed as to why we obeyed this final summons, I answered for both of us.
“Because we've done everything else. There isn't an implement, a position, a hole, a sexual coupling or a bodily function we haven't exploited for our dark perverted pleasure. We can go on doing that or we can go out, together, doing the kink to beat all kinks.”
As I finished speaking I looked at nudeboy’s prick. Solid as a rock. I could have hung my hat on it, had I had one. But I didn't. We were both naked.
Our titulus written, the headmistress ordered us to be bound and fitted with our loincloths. It was a struggle to contain nudeboy’s erection, while the guard who fitted mine could not resist slipping a finger inside me to see how wet I was. Very, he discovered.
“Max, take them out and whip them. Together. Hang them up side by side. I want our happy couple to enjoy this experience as a couple.”
As we were marched off to taste the lash, my pussy tingled...
carloscruz
Governor
Good!!!
Very Good!!!
You describe very well the conflict of feelings and the irresistible arousal.
And besides Nudebody, You got me hard too FSG.
And thanks a lot for your help!
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fat slave girl
Regina Servorum
I love being the inspiration for an erection!
carloscruz
Governor
I was guessing that. And I find it is a great virtue in a lady!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
There is no rush! RL interferes with my CF life too!
By the way, some of the 'invited' are still at home and considering :
“I am sorry, Mr. Loxuru! Your bank account is blocked, as is stated here, for security reasons!”
“Security reasons?”
“This is possible in case you would be suspected of criminal activity, money laundering or terrorism financing…”
“But I am not a criminal or a terrorist! You folks know that!? I am a client here already fro decades!”
“Mr. Loxuru, this is not our competence! It is on order from our internal control services, or sometimes even directly by security forces!”
“But this must be a mistake!”
“I could be a mistake, although it never occurred, to my memory. If an error would be involved, I can try to release your account myself. Can I have your identity card, Mr. Loxuru?”
The bank employee entered my identity card into a reader, ticked some buttons and then turned the reader to me.
“Your code, please Mr. Loxuru!?”
I entered the code. But to my surprise, the reader made an uncommon beep; and an annoying message appeared : ‘CARD INVALID!
We tried two more times, ensuring I entered the right code, but that was not the issue. Apparently, my identity card had been blocked too!
“I am sorry, Mr. Loxuru, I cannot help you!”
“What do you suggest me to do then?”
“Perhaps, you best go to the town hall and the police. Perhaps you could also consult a lawyer, if you really are innocent!”
‘If you really are innocent’! Even that bank employee, I am working with for twenty five years, has started doubting about me! Time to go to the town hall to arrange my identity card. Without that, I do not exist, I am illegal! And to the police, although, the same police of last evening. They would like to see me complaining about my blocked bank account, ‘for security reasons’!
A lawyer? I was not used to work with them. But perhaps, my divorce lawyer from years ago might give me a little help. I tried to call her with my cell phone, but instead of connecting, it made an annoying beep and displayed a message : ‘CARD INVALID’!
That was it! All I could do was go home and try internet and e-mail. Not so sure anymore whether my door key would still work!
To my relieve, I still could get in, and, miracle, even internet still worked. But the first thing I struck was this message :
“Loxuru!
Your arrest is imminent!
The prosecution has a strong case against you!
Murder, drug traffic, sexual offender!
Your life is over!
You are socially dead!
Every secret of yours will be made public!
Justice and society will nail you!
The only way out is to accept our offer!
Leave the nailing to us! Discrete and in accordance to your secret desires!
Watch your (paper) mailbox!
Signed:
The Cross Headmistress.”
Then, my internet went dead too!
fat slave girl
Regina Servorum
It'll be wonderful to have you join us my darling!
messaline
Crucified Amazon
An example of loincloth : this is what I sometimes wear when I'm tortured at CruxWinds in SL ...
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
In my mailbox, I found an envelope.
It contained a flight ticket for the next day to the island in the Mediterranean. There was also a hotel voucher for one night with breakfast.
There was some kind of a bankcard, with a prepaid amount ‘for small expenses’.
The envelope also contained a prepaid cell phone card, and an identity card on my name!?
Finally, there were some instructions to be followed, including the appointment for a taxi to the airport (prepaid), that would pick me up at my home, the next day.
On the instructions sheet, there was also a telephone number. I replaced the card of my cell phone by the new one, and dialed the number.
“The Cross Headmistress!”
“It’s… Loxuru!”
“Right! First of all, do not worry, this is a secured line! You got our envelope!? So, I presume you accept our invitation!?”
“I.. don’t know!? Do I have a choice? What is going to happen?”
“You have a choice! Tomorrow at noon sharp, you will be picked up by a taxi! If you take it, you will sleep in a hotel that night, otherwise, you will spend the first of many, many nights in a prison cell, since the police plans to arrest you tomorrow afternoon!”
“But, I...”
“Do not forget to use the identity card we sent you! If you would use your old one, you will not pass across airport security, but still end up in a cell! Follow our instructions, you will find new ones in your hotel room! You can always call me on this number, but restrict it to urgent things! Have a good trip!”
“Hello…?”
No need to say that I had not slept a lot the next night. I walked back and forth, still uncertain what to do. Then I packed (‘minimum needs of clothing’ according to the instructions), leaving me still the option to stay home. The next day, at 12:00 sharp, the taxi came to pick me up. I entered it an let me drive to the airport. Checking in and passing the security went without problems, with my ‘new’ identity card. Soon I boarded the Thomas Cross flight, which would bring me in less than four hours to my destination.
The plane was mainly filled with holiday goers. The island seemed to offer quite a lot of ‘exciting’ and ‘action’ holiday activities. Well, ‘excitement’, that’s what had been promised to me too, I ironically thought. Curiously, I had been planning to make a voyage intended for singles. Some operators offer that. To have company, and hoping for a possible prospect of a more permanent encounter. Some nice widow of my age, why not? I recalled, the first messages of the Cross Headmistress had announced ‘more crosses’, so I would not be the only one there!? Imagine, I would meet other CF members there!? I guess Palo Alto Analytics must have tracked down others of them?
Crucifixion!? I could not believe yet they would do it for real? Were the treats of arrest real, or had it all been a big set-up?
After a smooth flight, we landed on the sunny island. A bus brought me with other passengers to our hotel. We checked in, I went to my room, curious to find more instructions.
There was just one : ‘Tomorrow at 10 am : appointment in front of the hotel. Wear this T-shirt’.
The next morning! The T-shirt (light grey with a cross on it, subtly integrated in the flag of some Scandinavian country) did fit well. After having checked out, I went to the appointment. At 10 am sharp, a black BMW with blackened windows approached.
“Get in!”
The driver was a woman, about 45-50 years old, I estimated. She had straight blonde hair (false blonde I figured) down to her neck. She was rather tall, taller than me, with a not curvy, yet rounded figure. She wore a dark blue polka dotted dress ending above her knees, nearly halfway her thighs, and black shoes with strings above her heels. Her eyes were covered by dark sunglasses. We drove away immediately.
“Are you The Cross Headmistress?” I asked.
“Maybe! Maybe not!” she replied. “It does not matter yet! Look at this first!”
She handed over a tablet. The screen displayed a local newspaper from home. Apparently, there had been arrests in the cocaine shooting. At least one suspect was on the run, it seemed. A person from my town and of my age!
“Don’t worry! We still have time!” the woman replied “Your identity has been covered during your voyage, but people may have recognized you on the plane or in the hotel or elsewhere underway. But before that will be found out, we will be safe! The place we are going to, has diplomatic immunity!”
“What place are we going to?”
“You will see soon, when we get there!”
It was all mysterious to me. They had promised me one night in a hotel, instead of a long term in prison. But what after that one night? Where would I sleep the next night?
To whom am I entrusting my life?
(to CarlosCruz's plot, anyway)!
It contained a flight ticket for the next day to the island in the Mediterranean. There was also a hotel voucher for one night with breakfast.
There was some kind of a bankcard, with a prepaid amount ‘for small expenses’.
The envelope also contained a prepaid cell phone card, and an identity card on my name!?
Finally, there were some instructions to be followed, including the appointment for a taxi to the airport (prepaid), that would pick me up at my home, the next day.
On the instructions sheet, there was also a telephone number. I replaced the card of my cell phone by the new one, and dialed the number.
“The Cross Headmistress!”
“It’s… Loxuru!”
“Right! First of all, do not worry, this is a secured line! You got our envelope!? So, I presume you accept our invitation!?”
“I.. don’t know!? Do I have a choice? What is going to happen?”
“You have a choice! Tomorrow at noon sharp, you will be picked up by a taxi! If you take it, you will sleep in a hotel that night, otherwise, you will spend the first of many, many nights in a prison cell, since the police plans to arrest you tomorrow afternoon!”
“But, I...”
“Do not forget to use the identity card we sent you! If you would use your old one, you will not pass across airport security, but still end up in a cell! Follow our instructions, you will find new ones in your hotel room! You can always call me on this number, but restrict it to urgent things! Have a good trip!”
“Hello…?”
No need to say that I had not slept a lot the next night. I walked back and forth, still uncertain what to do. Then I packed (‘minimum needs of clothing’ according to the instructions), leaving me still the option to stay home. The next day, at 12:00 sharp, the taxi came to pick me up. I entered it an let me drive to the airport. Checking in and passing the security went without problems, with my ‘new’ identity card. Soon I boarded the Thomas Cross flight, which would bring me in less than four hours to my destination.
The plane was mainly filled with holiday goers. The island seemed to offer quite a lot of ‘exciting’ and ‘action’ holiday activities. Well, ‘excitement’, that’s what had been promised to me too, I ironically thought. Curiously, I had been planning to make a voyage intended for singles. Some operators offer that. To have company, and hoping for a possible prospect of a more permanent encounter. Some nice widow of my age, why not? I recalled, the first messages of the Cross Headmistress had announced ‘more crosses’, so I would not be the only one there!? Imagine, I would meet other CF members there!? I guess Palo Alto Analytics must have tracked down others of them?
Crucifixion!? I could not believe yet they would do it for real? Were the treats of arrest real, or had it all been a big set-up?
After a smooth flight, we landed on the sunny island. A bus brought me with other passengers to our hotel. We checked in, I went to my room, curious to find more instructions.
There was just one : ‘Tomorrow at 10 am : appointment in front of the hotel. Wear this T-shirt’.
The next morning! The T-shirt (light grey with a cross on it, subtly integrated in the flag of some Scandinavian country) did fit well. After having checked out, I went to the appointment. At 10 am sharp, a black BMW with blackened windows approached.
“Get in!”
The driver was a woman, about 45-50 years old, I estimated. She had straight blonde hair (false blonde I figured) down to her neck. She was rather tall, taller than me, with a not curvy, yet rounded figure. She wore a dark blue polka dotted dress ending above her knees, nearly halfway her thighs, and black shoes with strings above her heels. Her eyes were covered by dark sunglasses. We drove away immediately.
“Are you The Cross Headmistress?” I asked.
“Maybe! Maybe not!” she replied. “It does not matter yet! Look at this first!”
She handed over a tablet. The screen displayed a local newspaper from home. Apparently, there had been arrests in the cocaine shooting. At least one suspect was on the run, it seemed. A person from my town and of my age!
“Don’t worry! We still have time!” the woman replied “Your identity has been covered during your voyage, but people may have recognized you on the plane or in the hotel or elsewhere underway. But before that will be found out, we will be safe! The place we are going to, has diplomatic immunity!”
“What place are we going to?”
“You will see soon, when we get there!”
It was all mysterious to me. They had promised me one night in a hotel, instead of a long term in prison. But what after that one night? Where would I sleep the next night?
To whom am I entrusting my life?
(to CarlosCruz's plot, anyway)!
fat slave girl
Regina Servorum
And you wear it beautifully!
fat slave girl
Regina Servorum
Not exactly as you described, but this is a fat slave girl in a loincloth.
carloscruz
Governor
Just fantasy. A developing story of members who endvup crucified togheter. As the Thrad’s title describe
carloscruz
Governor
FSG , of course feel free to describe your experience under the whip with Nudeboy if it pleases you.
carloscruz
Governor
One question:
We have more or less accepted to be executed for the sexual pleasure of others and our own perversions. What should I call ourselves in the story?
Prisoners?
Condemned?
...?
Give me your opinions please. And remember that English is not my first language.
We have more or less accepted to be executed for the sexual pleasure of others and our own perversions. What should I call ourselves in the story?
Prisoners?
Condemned?
...?
Give me your opinions please. And remember that English is not my first language.
Wonderful. Will you be with me? Will you stay by me? The need for human contact, for company. Also, the need for someone to participate, to view and actively enjoy his ordeal. This is what he wants, these are the words Carlos dearly needs to hear! His submission and suffering give her joy, and her joy is deep satisfaction for him.
I can understand this all too well. The cross is calling . . . . . no, not this time, I will experience it vicariously through you, Carlos.
nudeboy
Executioner
We are marched from the room by Max, who walks behind us, each of his big fists full of our hair as he pushes us forward relentlessly. Outside we cross the grass towards a tall wooden post. As we approach we see it has two sets of manacles hanging from chains driven into either side of its highest point. I hear my girlfriend gasp as she catches sight of the double whipping post. I feel my hard cock twitch inside my tight loincloth.
Fat Slave Girl has her hands untied first, then her arms are immediately pulled above her head and her wrists buckled into one set of manacles. Her toes just touch the ground and she dangles precariously, her large breasts pushed either side of the rough wooden post.
I watched her being prepared with a kind of mute fascination, almost forgetting it will be my turn next. Max quickly brings me back to earth, slipping my bonds and dragging me to the post where I find myself secured in the same position. We look into my girlfriend's eyes as if we were sharing a romantic dinner.
“Ready?” I whisper hoarsely.
“Ready!” she answers.
Our intimate moment is broken by the crack of the whip. We both flinch and screw our eyes shut, then open them to find neither of us is in pain. Max was torturing us with a practice stroke.
The whip cracks again and this time FSG screams as the leather snakes across her back, from right shoulder to left hip. Max lands five more before he turns his attention to me.
I've been whipped often but never by anyone with Max's strength and accuracy. The man is truly a master of his art in every respect, landing stroke after scorching stroke exactly where he wants on my back, buttocks, thighs and legs.
He alternates between us, six strokes at a time until we've each received thirty and are hanging limp by our wrists. But there are some parts of our bodies which are definitely not limp. I can see FSG's nipples are as hard as bullets, and so can Max.
Approaching the post, he raises a hand and twists first one, then the other, hard, drawing a silent gasp from her. “You are a horny fat slut, aren't you!” He releases my girlfriend’s nipples, only to hock up a mouthful of spit which he directs expertly onto her right breast. I watch as it trickles down, until I feel a powerful right hand grabbing my genitals through my loincloth.
“And you! You are one pathetic arsehole! Getting off on your girlfriend being tortured! Do you even like girls, faggott? It feels like you’re really enjoying having my hand down there!”
I could hold out no longer. As his fingers squeezed my shaft through the white cotton my balls began to pump. I roared with the release of a mighty orgasm, feeling my cum soaking into my loincloth.
Max stood back, laughing as he watched my bloodied and bruised body twitching in ecstasy, laughing at the amount of pain and humiliation he had been able to inflict. “Time to get you pieces of shit down and to the holding cell” he said. “As you can see, we've been following your kinky online lives very closely. That was just how you both describe floggings in your fantasies. And we've only just started...”
Fat Slave Girl has her hands untied first, then her arms are immediately pulled above her head and her wrists buckled into one set of manacles. Her toes just touch the ground and she dangles precariously, her large breasts pushed either side of the rough wooden post.
I watched her being prepared with a kind of mute fascination, almost forgetting it will be my turn next. Max quickly brings me back to earth, slipping my bonds and dragging me to the post where I find myself secured in the same position. We look into my girlfriend's eyes as if we were sharing a romantic dinner.
“Ready?” I whisper hoarsely.
“Ready!” she answers.
Our intimate moment is broken by the crack of the whip. We both flinch and screw our eyes shut, then open them to find neither of us is in pain. Max was torturing us with a practice stroke.
The whip cracks again and this time FSG screams as the leather snakes across her back, from right shoulder to left hip. Max lands five more before he turns his attention to me.
I've been whipped often but never by anyone with Max's strength and accuracy. The man is truly a master of his art in every respect, landing stroke after scorching stroke exactly where he wants on my back, buttocks, thighs and legs.
He alternates between us, six strokes at a time until we've each received thirty and are hanging limp by our wrists. But there are some parts of our bodies which are definitely not limp. I can see FSG's nipples are as hard as bullets, and so can Max.
Approaching the post, he raises a hand and twists first one, then the other, hard, drawing a silent gasp from her. “You are a horny fat slut, aren't you!” He releases my girlfriend’s nipples, only to hock up a mouthful of spit which he directs expertly onto her right breast. I watch as it trickles down, until I feel a powerful right hand grabbing my genitals through my loincloth.
“And you! You are one pathetic arsehole! Getting off on your girlfriend being tortured! Do you even like girls, faggott? It feels like you’re really enjoying having my hand down there!”
I could hold out no longer. As his fingers squeezed my shaft through the white cotton my balls began to pump. I roared with the release of a mighty orgasm, feeling my cum soaking into my loincloth.
Max stood back, laughing as he watched my bloodied and bruised body twitching in ecstasy, laughing at the amount of pain and humiliation he had been able to inflict. “Time to get you pieces of shit down and to the holding cell” he said. “As you can see, we've been following your kinky online lives very closely. That was just how you both describe floggings in your fantasies. And we've only just started...”
carloscruz
Governor
That is exactly the idea Nudeboy!
The main goal of the Group is to get the money from the people eager to pay for the crucifixions.
For that, they have investigated us for some time and planned carefully.
They were sure that we were so twisted, that it would be easy the get enough of us to consent.
They understood after studying our activities that we were quite ripe for the crosses.
And at the same time they will enjoy their side of the cross perversion. They will be able to crucify men and women for real at last.
There is also the particular case of Luxuru. They are doing a big effort in order to get him. We don’t know yet if they will.
Perhaps there is somebody that is ready to pay an important extra amount just to get him crucified.
What do you think Luxuru? Any ideas?
I believe this could be the scenario and up to some extend every “recruit” may have a tailored punishment. The main story line has to be kept coherent.
I am very happy with the way the thread is going. As I said, the idea is to get something will enjoy and get excited with.
Right now there is a little of confusion about the number of participants. I will try to get a final list in the next days.
I am also still waiting for data from some of them. Once I have it, I will try to get everything in order.
And of course if anybody lost interest, there is no pressure at all. Again, this is just for fun and arousal.
Also the time line is a little twisted. I don’t think that is very important right now, we can be a little flexible. Perhaps in the future I could get everything chronologically correct. Now let’s have some fun getting crucified.
I am a little busy in RL now, but I promise to finish the story if you give me some time.
Thanks a lot everybody!
fat slave girl
Regina Servorum
And after that flogging, I can't wait for the crucifixions to start!