My first crucifixion - Story by Jack Secret

[jack secret]

Crucifixion is the most incredibly erotic and exquisitely cruel form of sadomasochistic play.

Since childhood, I have found thoughts and paintings of crucifixion to be incredibly arousing to the point I came to desire that someday someone would flog and crucify me to enjoy watching me writhe in agony on the cross. Over years of unfulfillment, my desire evolved into a burning need which consumed me. Not knowing where to turn for a dominant who would take me in hand, I joined several bdsm websites. Months and years passed with no contact from anyone with the interest and compulsion to flog me and then crucify me for a few hours. When I had all but given up any hope, I received a message from Ned.

PRELUDE

Ned is a member of a small group known as the Crucifixion Club. They are men and women committed to a bdsm lifestyle with a particular enthusiasm for sadomasochistic play centered around crucifixions. From time to time, for a few hours, they gather together with submissives willing to be tied to crosses. In order to heighten the anticipation and tension, the submissives undergo verbal humiliation, sexual abuse and pre-cross punishment. Flogging is always part of the punishment to enhance the victims’ pain as their bodies writhe and twist against the wood.

The Club meets at a remote, very private property owned by husband and wife members. The secluded property has a decrepit, unoccupied ranch house and equally decrepit barn. The only capital improvements are a whipping post, an old garage door converted into a bondage table, 3 Roman crosses, a Saint Andrews cross and a suspension bar about 8 feet long supported at both ends by heavy metal pipes formed in the shape of triangles. The Roman crosses are lined in a sem-circle with a few chairs and an old sofa facing the crosses for the Club members comfortable viewing.

Male and female submissives are welcome subject to pre-screening. While the Club sometimes conducts a single crucifixion, it has a strong preference for dual and triple crucifixions if enough suitable submissives are available. Ned made clear to me that the Club sets strict limits to SM play for the submissives’ protection. Time on a cross is limited to a minimum of one hour and, with only extraordinary exceptions, a maximum of two hours. The Club does hope that victims will choose to return for future games. He did, however, stress that within the specified limits, victims may not expect that they will be shown any mercy.

Ned’s message asked me to respond promptly if I was interested in attending one of the Club’s get-togethers as a participant. He noted that while the SM play would be intense, it would be an amazing experience I would not want to miss. (He could not have been more correct, which I feel weeks after my time on the cross as well as when I first heard from him.) I did not want to seem too anxious, but neither did I want to miss out on this golden opportunity, so I replied yes within the next few minutes. I fear I gilded the lily by expressing my keen desire to satisfy the Club members’ every desire and expectation. Fortunately, that did not queer my hopes.

The next day, Ned invited me to meet him in 3 days’ time to settle a few preliminaries, including when and where the Club would next meet. In an almost apologetic manner, he noted that the meeting would be a pro forma screening to assess my seriousness - my commitment to sadomasochistic play? - and my physical and mental suitability (he wants to be sure I am not a slob and do have a cock and balls between my legs?). He assured me this would be routine. In any event, my instructions were to be at a specified address at precisely 9:00 a.m. on the coming Monday.

I immediately replied that I would comply.

————————————————————————

Next post: TRIAL AND ACCEPTANCE

 

[jack secret]

TRIAL AND ACCEPTANCE

My initial excitement about the Crucifixion Club Was soon overshadowed by my unease over a preliminary meeting with Ned. Was I not yet accepted to participate in their games? What more was expected of me? Why so - so businesslike? Where was the enthusiasm, the sense of sexual tension and the undercurrent of sadism? Fortunately, my misgivings were completely misplaced.

I drove to the designated address - an hour’s drive to a remote, abandoned industrial park - to find myself at a large, delapidated light manufacturing building. The surrounding wire fence was falling apart, the asphalt grounds were crumbling and punctuated with weeds, the glass in the buildings windows were broken out and the only visible door looked as if it would soon fall off its hinges. Was I in the right place?

I pulled in and parked in front of the door. After waiting nervously for several minutes, a van pulled in and parked next to my car. I got out and waited, legs trembling, at the door. A man - middle-aged and well built - got out of the van, Ned I presumed. To my uneasy surprise a woman also got out. She is young - probably in her 30’s - and while not beautiful, nonetheless very attractive. Ned approached me and said, “Jack?” I replied, “Yes sir.” He directed me to enter the building door, and he and his female companion followed behind. We found ourselves in a large office-like room, then went through another door into the very large manufacturing floor. I was puzzled and unsettled as to why we were meeting in such a cold, inhospitable place. It soon became clear to me.

Ned nudged me off to the side and around a corner into separate, secluded area. I saw nothing there other than two well-worn chairs against a wall. And, yes, a heavy chain hanging down from an overhead cross beam. Ned ordered me to stand below the chain while he and the young woman sat down in the chairs.

”Jack, you no doubt wonder why we are meeting now and here. It must be somewhat confusing to you, but we have a purpose. It is important for you as well as us to first meet outside the place of your crucifixion to get acquainted, settle a few preliminary matters and, quite frankly, to be assured of your commitment to our Club and, not to put too fine a point on it, your suitability.”

I frowned with a puzzled look, then he continued.

”Whether you have a decent, sexually appealing body and whether you are man enough to participate fully in our games. It would do neither you or us any good for you to commit to more than you wish or for you to fail us - and yourself - in the heat of intense sadomasochistic play. You do understand?

”Yes sir.”

”Good. Now take off your clothes … strip naked, now!”

I hesitated momentarily, in part out of embarrassment at striping naked in front of a fully clothed woman. I had no choice, so quickly took off my clothes, pausing briefly before pulling down my briefs.

”Jack, stand tall, put your hands behind your head and slowly turn around until you are facing us again.”

I complied, giving them a full view of my naked body. Never before had I felt so exposed and humiliated.

”Jack, you need to understand that we take crucifixion and its foreplay very seriously. For you to fully realize your fantasy of hanging naked on a cross and for us to fully enjoy your pain and agony, your crucifixion must be carried out, not as a casual game among friends, but as a deadly serious punishment. Neither you nor we will derive full satisfaction from the experience unless it is accompanied by high sexual tension and genuine fear on your part, including the fear that your agony will be unbearable and that you might die on the cross. It must feel very real, and we must be free to express our genuine, sadistic pleasure in humiliating and torturing you. Your pain will be very real - intense and long-lasting - so that you scream with pain, struggle helplessly against your bonds and beg for mercy with a real sense of urgency. So, Jack, now that you understand what is at stake, are you committed to joining our next crucifixion party.”

A heavy quiet descended on us as my mind whirred in confusion and fear, my body trembling nervously. Part of me wanted to bail out, but I did not want to appear unmanly, and I knew deep down that I wanted and needed this experience. I told myself the obvious lie that it could not be that hard.

”Yes sir, I am fully commited to being crucified by you.”

”And you say so freely, knowing that once commited, you may not back out and that no mercy will be shown you until you have hung on the cross as long as it pleases us?”

”Yes sir.”

”Of course, there is still the question whether we find you suitable. Jack, I want you to jerk your cock until it’s hard and erect. Size does matter.“

The woman stood up, and Ned identified her by the name Mercy. “It is an ironic name since she never shows any mercy to her slave boys.”

Mercy stepped in front of me, ordered me to put out my jerk-off hand and then squirted some body oil into my palm. She sat down, and I began to stroke my cock. It was slack and slow to respond. Ned and Mercy became impatient. Mercy barked at me to jerk off hard like a real man. I beat my meat harder with limited success. Mercy, clearly put out with me, stepped forward, put her face in mine, grabbed my balls, squeezed and said, “Here, let me help. If this is the best you can do, I doubt you are man enough for us.”

I quickly succeeded in getting a hard on, and, to my surprise, she just as quickly tied a strip of rawhide tightly around the base of my cock. She ordered me to spread my legs and put my hands behind my head again. She stood back, closely eyeing my pathetic manhood, then stepped aside so Ned could see as well. At his nod, she strapped leather cuffs on my wrists and told me to reach high and stand on my toes while she clipped my cuffs to the overhead chain.

”Dickhead, have you ever had lovers nuts.”

”Yes mame.”

”Good, then you know how bad lovers nuts can hurt.”. She proceeded to stroke my cock with one hand while squeezing my balls with her other hand. I groaned loudly, first with sexual desire, then with pain as I suffered a full-blown case of lovers nuts. After I twisted back and forth in a futile attempt to escape the pain, Mercy slapped my balls several times - hard and harder. I struggled not to cry out or beg for mercy lest I fail her test of my manhood.

Mercy pulled a flogger out of her large bag, stood closely in front of me rubbing her hand over my chest, then my belly and finally up and down my inner thighs. She draped the flogger over my shoulders, walked behind me, caressed my back and with her hand, then flogged my back hard a few times. She stepped back in front of me and flogged by chest and belly a few times, then sat down. Ned spoke.

”Okay Jack, we think you will look good hanging on one of our crosses. You now know what to expect. Are you still fully, heart-and-soul commited to joining our sadomasochistic games?

”Yes sir.”

”And you freely agree to be crucified by us and to give us a good show while you suffer on the wood?”

“Yes sir, I swear that I will show up at your club and give you a good show.”

”Good. I will hold you to that. As a guarantee of your food faith, I will hang on to your driver’s license, bank card and credit cards. I will return them to you after we cut you down from your cross. I am leaving on this chair a paper with the date and time and the directions to the meeting point where another of our members will escort you to the place where you will be crucified.”

With that, Mercy freed me from the chain, removed my wrist cuffs and busted my balls twice. As I grovelled on the floor, Ned and Mercy left.

………………..

MY JOURNEY TO MY CRUCIFIXION is next.

 

[Madiosi]

TRIAL AND ACCEPTANCE

My initial excitement about the Crucifixion Club Was soon overshadowed by my unease over a preliminary meeting with Ned. Was I not yet accepted to participate in their games? What more was expected of me? Why so - so businesslike? Where was the enthusiasm, the sense of sexual tension and the undercurrent of sadism? Fortunately, my misgivings were completely misplaced.

I drove to the designated address - an hour’s drive to a remote, abandoned industrial park - to find myself at a large, delapidated light manufacturing building. The surrounding wire fence was falling apart, the asphalt grounds were crumbling and punctuated with weeds, the glass in the buildings windows were broken out and the only visible door looked as if it would soon fall off its hinges. Was I in the right place?

I pulled in and parked in front of the door. After waiting nervously for several minutes, a van pulled in and parked next to my car. I got out and waited, legs trembling, at the door. A man - middle-aged and well built - got out of the van, Ned I presumed. To my uneasy surprise a woman also got out. She is young - probably in her 30’s - and while not beautiful, nonetheless very attractive. Ned approached me and said, “Jack?” I replied, “Yes sir.” He directed me to enter the building door, and he and his female companion followed behind. We found ourselves in a large office-like room, then went through another door into the very large manufacturing floor. I was puzzled and unsettled as to why we were meeting in such a cold, inhospitable place. It soon became clear to me.

Ned nudged me off to the side and around a corner into separate, secluded area. I saw nothing there other than two well-worn chairs against a wall. And, yes, a heavy chain hanging down from an overhead cross beam. Ned ordered me to stand below the chain while he and the young woman sat down in the chairs.

”Jack, you no doubt wonder why we are meeting now and here. It must be somewhat confusing to you, but we have a purpose. It is important for you as well as us to first meet outside the place of your crucifixion to get acquainted, settle a few preliminary matters and, quite frankly, to be assured of your commitment to our Club and, not to put too fine a point on it, your suitability.”

I frowned with a puzzled look, then he continued.

”Whether you have a decent, sexually appealing body and whether you are man enough to participate fully in our games. It would do neither you or us any good for you to commit to more than you wish or for you to fail us - and yourself - in the heat of intense sadomasochistic play. You do understand?

”Yes sir.”

”Good. Now take off your clothes … strip naked, now!”

I hesitated momentarily, in part out of embarrassment at striping naked in front of a fully clothed woman. I had no choice, so quickly took off my clothes, pausing briefly before pulling down my briefs.

”Jack, stand tall, put your hands behind your head and slowly turn around until you are facing us again.”

I complied, giving them a full view of my naked body. Never before had I felt so exposed and humiliated.

”Jack, you need to understand that we take crucifixion and its foreplay very seriously. For you to fully realize your fantasy of hanging naked on a cross and for us to fully enjoy your pain and agony, your crucifixion must be carried out, not as a casual game among friends, but as a deadly serious punishment. Neither you nor we will derive full satisfaction from the experience unless it is accompanied by high sexual tension and genuine fear on your part, including the fear that your agony will be unbearable and that you might die on the cross. It must feel very real, and we must be free to express our genuine, sadistic pleasure in humiliating and torturing you. Your pain will be very real - intense and long-lasting - so that you scream with pain, struggle helplessly against your bonds and beg for mercy with a real sense of urgency. So, Jack, now that you understand what is at stake, are you committed to joining our next crucifixion party.”

A heavy quiet descended on us as my mind whirred in confusion and fear, my body trembling nervously. Part of me wanted to bail out, but I did not want to appear unmanly, and I knew deep down that I wanted and needed this experience. I told myself the obvious lie that it could not be that hard.

”Yes sir, I am fully commited to being crucified by you.”

”And you say so freely, knowing that once commited, you may not back out and that no mercy will be shown you until you have hung on the cross as long as it pleases us?”

”Yes sir.”

”Of course, there is still the question whether we find you suitable. Jack, I want you to jerk your cock until it’s hard and erect. Size does matter.“

The woman stood up, and Ned identified her by the name Mercy. “It is an ironic name since she never shows any mercy to her slave boys.”

Mercy stepped in front of me, ordered me to put out my jerk-off hand and then squirted some body oil into my palm. She sat down, and I began to stroke my cock. It was slack and slow to respond. Ned and Mercy became impatient. Mercy barked at me to jerk off hard like a real man. I beat my meat harder with limited success. Mercy, clearly put out with me, stepped forward, put her face in mine, grabbed my balls, squeezed and said, “Here, let me help. If this is the best you can do, I doubt you are man enough for us.”

I quickly succeeded in getting a hard on, and, to my surprise, she just as quickly tied a strip of rawhide tightly around the base of my cock. She ordered me to spread my legs and put my hands behind my head again. She stood back, closely eyeing my pathetic manhood, then stepped aside so Ned could see as well. At his nod, she strapped leather cuffs on my wrists and told me to reach high and stand on my toes while she clipped my cuffs to the overhead chain.

”Dickhead, have you ever had lovers nuts.”

”Yes mame.”

”Good, then you know how bad lovers nuts can hurt.”. She proceeded to stroke my cock with one hand while squeezing my balls with her other hand. I groaned loudly, first with sexual desire, then with pain as I suffered a full-blown case of lovers nuts. After I twisted back and forth in a futile attempt to escape the pain, Mercy slapped my balls several times - hard and harder. I struggled not to cry out or beg for mercy lest I fail her test of my manhood.

Mercy pulled a flogger out of her large bag, stood closely in front of me rubbing her hand over my chest, then my belly and finally up and down my inner thighs. She draped the flogger over my shoulders, walked behind me, caressed my back and with her hand, then flogged my back hard a few times. She stepped back in front of me and flogged by chest and belly a few times, then sat down. Ned spoke.

”Okay Jack, we think you will look good hanging on one of our crosses. You now know what to expect. Are you still fully, heart-and-soul commited to joining our sadomasochistic games?

”Yes sir.”

”And you freely agree to be crucified by us and to give us a good show while you suffer on the wood?”

“Yes sir, I swear that I will show up at your club and give you a good show.”

”Good. I will hold you to that. As a guarantee of your food faith, I will hang on to your driver’s license, bank card and credit cards. I will return them to you after we cut you down from your cross. I am leaving on this chair a paper with the date and time and the directions to the meeting point where another of our members will escort you to the place where you will be crucified.”

With that, Mercy freed me from the chain, removed my wrist cuffs and busted my balls twice. As I grovelled on the floor, Ned and Mercy left.

………………..

MY JOURNEY TO MY CRUCIFIXION is next.

Please don't start for new parts a new thread. Use this thread!

 

[jack secret]

JOURNEY TO MY CRUCIFIXION

I left my meeting with Ned and Mercy grappling with two strong and conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I was exhilarated at the realization that I would finally be crucified, and at that in only four days. On the other hand, I was filled with a powerful dread that my punishment would be far harder and more painful than I had envisioned . . . or perhaps could manage. This was so overwhelming that I scarcely noticed how much my balls hurt.

At home, I rubbed lotion over my flesh tormented - only mildly and o be sure -by Mercy’s flogger and put a well wrapped ice bag on my balls to cool them down. That done, I turned again to face my conundrum - realize my life‘s burning desire to be crucified and endure intense pain and agony, or cut and run. While the former was frightening, the latter seemed utterly unacceptable. If I violated my promise to show up, I would lose my driver’s license and credit cards, lose my self-respect as a man and probably be exposed or blackballed on all bdsm websites. Worse, I would forever lose the chance to experience my fantasy of hanging naked on a cross. In the end, my need - my dream - prevailed. I persuaded myself that my torture and crucifixion would not be so extreme that I could not take it and be grateful for doing so.

Very early Friday morning, I got into my car and started my four-hour drive to some remote place in the Sierra foothills. I had to be at the designated meeting place by 10:00 a.m. Why so early? Did the Club want a full day to play with my body and mind?

After driving for nearly an hour on a narrow, winding dirt road over hills and through swales, I saw in the distance a small grove of trees in the otherwise barren countryside. It matched the description in Ned’s written directions. As I neared it, I saw a van parked off the road and just sticking into the woods. I pulled my car to the side of the van, parked, took a very deep breath and got out. A tall, strongly built man, sta ding next to the van asked if I was Jack. I said “yes sir” and he said “good”, motioning me to approach him.

”We are waiting for one more man, then I will take you and him to the grounds where you will be administered your punishments. Its location is secret, so you will be blindfolded in the way.”

I nodded my understanding.

”Strip off your clothes and put them in your car trunk. You’ll not need them for the next several hours . . . if ever.” That sent a chill down my spine.

I was stunned by his abruptness, but quickly took off all my clothes and put them in the trunk, then walked back to the van.

”Turn around and put your hands behind your back.” He tied my wrists together and ordered me to turn back around. As I faced him, he grabbed my cock and balls, squeezed tightly at the base of my cock and slipped a cord loop over my full manhood and pulled the loop closed. He let the loose end of the cord drag on the ground. He smiled as I groaned and pressed my thighs back and forth as if that would free my cock from its bondage.
“On your knees slave!”

I dropped to my knees, and we waited several minutes until another car pulled in next to mine. A young man, good looking and obviously buff, got out and walked toward us, first eyeing the van guy and then me. I am sure that I blushed.

”Alan?”

”Yes.”

”Sir! You address me as sir.”

Alan muttered an apology and said “yes sir” in a strong voice.

The van guy, whose name I later learned is “Brute” - and he looked it - ordered Alan to strip, then bound his hands and genitals the same as mine. He grabbed the cords hanging from our cocks and pulled us into the trees where he face-fucked us. He then pulled us back to the van. As Alan and I stood facing the open double doors at the back of the van, Brute gagged each of us and put hoods over our heads. He pushed me face down into the van and ordered me to crawl forward. He then tied my ankles together and hogtied me using the cord hanging from my cock. I assumed he did the same to Alan.

The drive - at least 20 minutes long - was a torment for me. As we bumped over a bad road and bumpy off-road grounds, my legs jerked back and forth, yanking hard on my cock and balls. We finally stopped, and Brute pulled us out of the van. He removed our hoods, but not our gags. He grabbed the cords hanging from our man parts and pulled us on a five-minute walk over a meadow and scrubby grounds until we came to a ranch house. As we marched past it, I saw out of the side of my eyes a few Club members sitting and standing in the shade of a large front porch. We went another 30 feet beyond the house, then Alan and I dropped to our knees with our backs to the house. I heard BrUte’s steps as he walked to the porch and began talking to his fellow members. I could not understand a word of the Members’ conversation.

As I awaited my fate, I made a furtive glance at Alan. It confirmed what I saw on our hike from the van - he is handsome and buff as well as hung. I felt puny by comparison and was embarrassed. I scanned the horizon to get a fix on my location. All I could see were barren hills with the occasionail scrub bush and a couple of distant small stands of distressed trees. Drought was the order f the day. However, on the house grounds were a few large, leafy trees providing welcome shade.

I then focused on the nearby equipment which would inflict deserved punishment on me and Alan. The whipping post is telephone sized in diameter, standing about 9 feet high. Two pair of cuffs were hanging from its top. The single Saint Andrew’s cross was intimidating, but otherwise very standard. More imposing was the suspension bar, a heavy metal pipe at least 8 feet long and 9 feet high. Metal triangles made of similar pipes supported the bar parallel to the ground.

The more extraordinary devices were a bondage table and three Roman crosses. The table is unusually large, roughly 10 feet by 10 and mounted on several 4x4 boards. The table is between 2 and 3 feet above ground with four strong metal eyes screwed strongly into the wood across each end. The wood looks old and weathered, still sporting some faded paint. I learned later that it once was a barn door.

The crosses, of course, commanded most of my attention. My first sight of them sent a thrill through my body which was followed by a powerful message of doom. I realized that in a few hours I would suffer prolonged agony on one of them and that I could even die on it. The crosses were spaced several feet apart and arranged in a partial semi circle. A Club member could sit in one spot and get a full-on frontal view of each victim. It also crossed my mind that Alan and I would be able to watch each other as we writhed and twisted against the wood.

. . . . . . . . . . .

CRUCIFIXION FOREPLAY next

 

[jack secret]

JOURNEY TO MY CRUCIFIXION

I left my meeting with Ned and Mercy grappling with two strong and conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I was exhilarated at the realization that I would finally be crucified, and at that in only four days. On the other hand, I was filled with a powerful dread that my punishment would be far harder and more painful than I had envisioned . . . or perhaps could manage. This was so overwhelming that I scarcely noticed how much my balls hurt.

At home, I rubbed lotion over my flesh tormented - only mildly and o be sure -by Mercy’s flogger and put a well wrapped ice bag on my balls to cool them down. That done, I turned again to face my conundrum - realize my life‘s burning desire to be crucified and endure intense pain and agony, or cut and run. While the former was frightening, the latter seemed utterly unacceptable. If I violated my promise to show up, I would lose my driver’s license and credit cards, lose my self-respect as a man and probably be exposed or blackballed on all bdsm websites. Worse, I would forever lose the chance to experience my fantasy of hanging naked on a cross. In the end, my need - my dream - prevailed. I persuaded myself that my torture and crucifixion would not be so extreme that I could not take it and be grateful for doing so.

Very early Friday morning, I got into my car and started my four-hour drive to some remote place in the Sierra foothills. I had to be at the designated meeting place by 10:00 a.m. Why so early? Did the Club want a full day to play with my body and mind?

After driving for nearly an hour on a narrow, winding dirt road over hills and through swales, I saw in the distance a small grove of trees in the otherwise barren countryside. It matched the description in Ned’s written directions. As I neared it, I saw a van parked off the road and just sticking into the woods. I pulled my car to the side of the van, parked, took a very deep breath and got out. A tall, strongly built man, sta ding next to the van asked if I was Jack. I said “yes sir” and he said “good”, motioning me to approach him.

”We are waiting for one more man, then I will take you and him to the grounds where you will be administered your punishments. Its location is secret, so you will be blindfolded in the way.”

I nodded my understanding.

”Strip off your clothes and put them in your car trunk. You’ll not need them for the next several hours . . . if ever.” That sent a chill down my spine.

I was stunned by his abruptness, but quickly took off all my clothes and put them in the trunk, then walked back to the van.

”Turn around and put your hands behind your back.” He tied my wrists together and ordered me to turn back around. As I faced him, he grabbed my cock and balls, squeezed tightly at the base of my cock and slipped a cord loop over my full manhood and pulled the loop closed. He let the loose end of the cord drag on the ground. He smiled as I groaned and pressed my thighs back and forth as if that would free my cock from its bondage.
“On your knees slave!”

I dropped to my knees, and we waited several minutes until another car pulled in next to mine. A young man, good looking and obviously buff, got out and walked toward us, first eyeing the van guy and then me. I am sure that I blushed.

”Alan?”

”Yes.”

”Sir! You address me as sir.”

Alan muttered an apology and said “yes sir” in a strong voice.

The van guy, whose name I later learned is “Brute” - and he looked it - ordered Alan to strip, then bound his hands and genitals the same as mine. He grabbed the cords hanging from our cocks and pulled us into the trees where he face-fucked us. He then pulled us back to the van. As Alan and I stood facing the open double doors at the back of the van, Brute gagged each of us and put hoods over our heads. He pushed me face down into the van and ordered me to crawl forward. He then tied my ankles together and hogtied me using the cord hanging from my cock. I assumed he did the same to Alan.

The drive - at least 20 minutes long - was a torment for me. As we bumped over a bad road and bumpy off-road grounds, my legs jerked back and forth, yanking hard on my cock and balls. We finally stopped, and Brute pulled us out of the van. He removed our hoods, but not our gags. He grabbed the cords hanging from our man parts and pulled us on a five-minute walk over a meadow and scrubby grounds until we came to a ranch house. As we marched past it, I saw out of the side of my eyes a few Club members sitting and standing in the shade of a large front porch. We went another 30 feet beyond the house, then Alan and I dropped to our knees with our backs to the house. I heard BrUte’s steps as he walked to the porch and began talking to his fellow members. I could not understand a word of the Members’ conversation.

As I awaited my fate, I made a furtive glance at Alan. It confirmed what I saw on our hike from the van - he is handsome and buff as well as hung. I felt puny by comparison and was embarrassed. I scanned the horizon to get a fix on my location. All I could see were barren hills with the occasionail scrub bush and a couple of distant small stands of distressed trees. Drought was the order f the day. However, on the house grounds were a few large, leafy trees providing welcome shade.

I then focused on the nearby equipment which would inflict deserved punishment on me and Alan. The whipping post is telephone sized in diameter, standing about 9 feet high. Two pair of cuffs were hanging from its top. The single Saint Andrew’s cross was intimidating, but otherwise very standard. More imposing was the suspension bar, a heavy metal pipe at least 8 feet long and 9 feet high. Metal triangles made of similar pipes supported the bar parallel to the ground.

The more extraordinary devices were a bondage table and three Roman crosses. The table is unusually large, roughly 10 feet by 10 and mounted on several 4x4 boards. The table is between 2 and 3 feet above ground with four strong metal eyes screwed strongly into the wood across each end. The wood looks old and weathered, still sporting some faded paint. I learned later that it once was a barn door.

The crosses, of course, commanded most of my attention. My first sight of them sent a thrill through my body which was followed by a powerful message of doom. I realized that in a few hours I would suffer prolonged agony on one of them and that I could even die on it. The crosses were spaced several feet apart and arranged in a partial semi circle. A Club member could sit in one spot and get a full-on frontal view of each victim. It also crossed my mind that Alan and I would be able to watch each other as we writhed and twisted against the wood.

. . . . . . . . . . .

CRUCIFIXION FOREPLAY: Part 1.

CRUCIFIXION FOREPLAY: Part 1


Brute returned to us after several minutes, ordered us onto our feet and proceeded to untie our cocks and remove our gags. We turned around, and he walked us to within 10 feet of the porch and our smiling tormentors. To my astonishment, Brute then untied our hands. I wasn’t sure what to do, but knew that running would make matters worse. In my confusion, I felt that I was suddenly more naked and exposed. Unbound, standing ass naked before the Club members free to move without guidance or orders, I was somehow offering myself for their viewing and salacious pleasure.

Ned stepped forward and set the tone for the next few hours.

”You boys are here to be crucified. You will be tortured and crucified so you suffer the pain, the agony and the indignity and humiliation you deserve. It is our duty, and will be our pleasure, to ensure that happens. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

”Is there any good reason why your punishment should not be carried out?”

”No sir.”

”Is there any reason why we should show you any mercy?”

”No sir.”

”Do you freely acknowledge that we have every right to crucify you and that you freely submit to your just punishment?”

”Yes sir.”

”It is set, then. You will be tortured without mercy, be crucified and hang on your crosses in agony until we decide that you have suffered as much as you deserve. . . Alan, I am confident you are man enough to take it and learn your lesson. Jack, you are a fucking poor excuse for a man. Your walking around with balls hanging between your legs is an embarrassment to real men and an insult to women. You best give a good account of yourself if you do not want to die on the cross.”

I felt all eyes staring at me as my mind reeled and my body trembled.

As if Alan and I, especially me, were not already totally humiliated, Ned then ordered us to jerk off. We hesitated for several seconds until Ned shouted, “Now you fucking boys!”

We immediately began to stroke our cocks. I felt acute embarrassment, more than ever before in my life. Alan got a hard on ahead of me and was told to stop so our tormentors could marvel at the size of his cock. It is magnificent - long, thick and throbbing with sexual tension. I beat my meat harder until I too was hard, but every one (including Alan, I suspected) sniggered at the sight of my cock. It is not small by any means, but looks so next to Alan’s. Then, at Ned’s nod, we resumed our masturbations until we finally came, Alan again ahead of me.

 

[jack secret]

CRUCIFIXION FOREPLAY: Part 2

Our tormentors spent the next few minutes taunting us with a discussion of the ways they would punish us and joyfully speculated how good we would scream as we struggled against our bonds. That settled, the four men other than Ned took Alan and me by our arms and dragged us to the bondage table. They strapped wrist cuffs on us, pushed us down on our backsand pulled us over the table top where they hooked our cuffs to the metal eyes at the far end of the table. That done, they cuffed our ankles and tethered them to the metal eyes on the near end of the table. They stretched our bodies taut, but not so much so that we could not wriggle and twist our bodies from side to side.

For a minute or two, we were left alone to appreciate the helplessness of our naked bodies, spreadeagled so we were fully exposed and vulnerable. I tugged at my bonds and twisted my ass from one side to the other, confirming that I was totally at my tormentors’ mercy. Speaking of which, Mercy grabbed my balls, squeezed hard and pulled them toward my feet. I then had a complete understanding of my helplessness and vulnerability. I cried out and and yanked my arms and legs against their restraints. Mercy gave Alan equal treatment.

So here Alan and I were - spreadeagled next to each other, our cocks and balls hanging loosely between our legs, our muscles taut and our flesh wet with sweat. We glanced at each other, ever so briefly looking each other in our eyes, then turned our heads back to await our first punishment. I raised my head as much as I could to exam my body and observe what our tormentors were doing. I barely made out that Brute had carried out a large truck battery. He placed it on the ground and attached leads to two hand controls placed on the table, one between my legs and the other between Alan’s. He deferred to Mercy in attaching leads to our balls. I groaned in anticipation as she attached one lead to my right ball and another to my left ball.

Ned said to test the connections. Alan and I were each given a few quick shocks to confirm that systems were go. With that, our tormentors - I should say torturers - took turns electrocuting our balls so we screamed loudly and jerked hard against our bonds. This went on for several minutes until we were given a respite. Ned then ordered that the power be turned up two notches, after which I suffered extreme pain in my balls, screaming as I had never before. I was so consumed by my agony that I scarcely noticed Alan’s screams and struggles.

Mercy, whose sheer cruelty was loosed, played games with us - 15 seconds of power on followed by 15 seconds off, then 30 seconds on and off followed by a full 60 seconds on. I screamed and writhed until I was exhausted. Sweat was pouring over my body so my flesh glistened in the sunlight. I could see Alan‘s body dripping wet with his sweat. Mercy caressed and then lightly massaged my aching muscles to heighten my sense of nakedness. In my brief break from torture, I appreciated how much I was at her mercy and that she was intensely sadistic. The extent of her cruelty, not yet fully displayed, and the intensity of my punishment exceeded all of my expectations.

The Club members took a short break for refreshments, then continued to torture Alan and me with ever stronger electric shocks to our balls. I do not know how I managed to scream, struggle and beg for mercy for an hour or more. When done, I was too exhausted to move or talk and, more to the point, my balls hurt real bad even after the electric leads were removed. My body was soaked with sweat so it ran into my eyes and rolled down my chest and belly until it dripped off my cock, pooling between my legs. I remained spreadeagled on the table for several minutes as I caught my breath and tried to relieve the pain in my muscles.

Two of our torturers gave us some water and some kind of energy drink, presumably so we could give them a good show when our punishment resumed. They even loosened the cords which tethered our ankles to the bondage table. Thus ended just the first stage of our ordeal, already more than two hours after I rendezvoused with Brute several miles away.

 

[jack secret]

CRUCIFIXION FOREPLAY: Part 3

While the other members watched, two of the men removed our tethers, pulled us into our feet and marched us onto the porch and into the house. The inside is large with no internal walls. It is sparsely furnished, and what is there is falling apart. Aside from thick, moth-eaten rugs and two large ice chests filled with food and drink for the Club members, nothing else was in the house other than dust, cobwebs and torn curtains on the windows. Alan and I were ordered onto our knees on the rugs.

The two men who brought us into the house then ordered us to suck their cocks. Having shot their cum down our throats, they kicked us in our balls. As Alan and I writhed in pain on the floor, our tormentors left, and two others entered the room. They tof ordered us to suck their cocks and unloaded their cum down our throats. Again, we were kicked in our balls. I groaned with pain and clutched my groin as if that would help.

Minutes later, Mercy and the other female member, Helga, came into the house and examined Alan and me. They commented that we were fucking poor excuses for men and then laughed about how they were looking forward to seeing us hang on our crosses. After exchanging glances and whispers with each other, they moved so they stood closely in front of us. Helga pressed Alan’s head into her pelvis and told him to eat her pussy. As he started to do so, Mercy clasped her hands around my head, pressed her pelvis against my face and ordered me to eat her pussy. I did so until she ecstatically groaned with her orgasim. She then bowed her head close to my left ear and whispered: “You are a piss poor fucker. You will pay for it.”

Mercy and Helga sat down on the two chairs which were reasonably solid. They lighted cigarettes and smoked them while amusing themselves with talk about how Alan and I would be tortured and crucified that afternoon. Once rested and finished smoking, they ordered us to lie down flat on our backs and spread our legs.

Helga kneeled down between my legs, gently massaged my balls and stroked my cock. Once my cock started to firm up, she laid down on me, first pressing her pussy against my cock, then her stomach and boobs against my torso. She clasped my head with her hands and kissed me on my lips. She kissed for several seconds and wriggled her tongue in my mouth. She then pushed her body up and started stroking my cock again, bending down to briefly lick and suck my cockhead. I finally got a hard on. She mounted me and rode my cock, humping me ever more strongly until both of us achieved orgasm and loudly groaned in ecstasy.

Mercy used Alan in the same way. Having then stood up and dressed, she and Helga left the house. My mind raced, first with appreciation for sexual pleasure in lieu of physical punishment, then with fear for what I knew awaited Alan and me. I also reflected on the fact that Ned had not participated in the sex play.

 

[jack secret]

Soon after Mercy and Helga left us panting as we caught our breath from our sexual exertions, four male members entered. They ordered us onto our feet, grabbed our arms and escorted us out onto the grounds in front of the house. Ned, Mercy and Helga looked us over and discussed which of us would be bound to the Saint Andrew’s cross. Mercy said she had special plans for me, so Alan should be tied to the cross. Ned rhetorically asked whether Mercy’s plan might go too far. She replied that I deserved whatever I got. After reflecting on this, Ned commented that he never ceased to be suprised by Mercy’s sadism. He nodded his consent.

I was terrified by the thought that Mercy would unleash her cruelty on me. In the deep recesses of my mind, I had wondered whether Mercy had a special animus toward me and had been treating Alan more gently than me. While I wrapped my mind around this, Alan was spreadeagled and tied on the cross. Helga tied a cord tightly around Alan’s balls and attached a weight which she dropped, yanking Alan’s nuts so he groaned loudly. She caressed his thighs and his belly and chest, then running her hands down his back and cupping his firm ass. After looking him in his eyes for several seconds, she started working his nipples, pinching and twisting them until he cried out. Mercy handed her a pair of nipple clamps - tightly sprung with sharp teeth. After teasing Alan’s face and chest with the clamps, she snapped the teeth on his tender nipples. He screamed in agony.

I lost track of Alan and his torment as the two men holding on to my arms walked me some distance away to a large patch of dirt. They dropped me onto the ground on my back and ordered me to spread my arms and legs. Under Mercy’s watchful eyes, they drove four stakes into the ground, each 2 or 3 feet away from a hand or foot. They tethered my wrists and ankles to the stakes, pulling my arms and legs taut. Mercy walked around me, slapping my chest, belly and thighs with a long-handled paddle. I groaned with each slap, growing more conscious that I was stretched so tight that I could not twist and turn my body.

Mercy kneeled between my legs, pounded a fifth stake into the ground between my knees, and tied a rawhide strip around my ball sack. I raised my head to see what see was doing and noticed, for the first time, that between my legs were two or three anthills. I let out a groan and started murmuring, “No . . . please, not that.” She smiled as she looped the rawhide around the stake, pulled hard and tied it off. I groaned even louder as my balls started hurting real bad. This was only the start.

Mercy held over my face a jar of a thick, gold-colored liquid - honey that had been diluted with just enough water that it could be spread easily. As I repeatedly begged her not to do this to me, she dipped a paint brush into the jar and then coated my balls and cock with the sweet substance. A few more dips into the jar, she spread the honey over my inner thighs. That done, she dripped the honey in a trail from my balls to the anthills. Within a minute, ants worked their way onto my balls until hundreds were swarming over my balls and cock, then spilling over onto my thighs.

I tugged hard on my restraints, trying desperately to pull my body away from the ants. I groaned and pleaded for mercy to no avail. As my agony grew, I cried out again and again and begged for them to stop. The agony became unbearable, but I was left for 15 or 20 minutes to suffer as all the Club members gathered around to enjoy my torment. I did not think things could get worse, but they did. Mercy painted more honey on my bare flesh, running a line from my cock to my chest, then a line to each armpit which she smothered with the honey mix. Hundreds more ants crawled unhampered up my belly and chest and then all over my armpits. I could never possibly describe accurately the incredible agony I endured for the next 20 to 30 minutes. I was exhausted from screaming and begging until I was reduced to whimpering.

Ned watched a while, then nodded to Mercy that it was enough. With great reluctance, she used bottled water to wash the ants and honey off my body and then removed the tethers. I writhed on the ground, relieved that I could move my arms and legs. I was left there for a long time to catch my breath and rub my hands over my body to restore normal sensations to my skin.

 

[jack secret]

CRUCIFIXION FOREPLAY: Part 4

As I lay spraweld in the dirt, I slowly rolled side to side and gently moved my arms and legs to relax my muscles and restore mobility to my joints. I massaged my skin from my armpits down to my thighs to wipe away the stings and itches from the ants, only to have to flick away more ants attracted to my sweat. I was still in pain, but not nearly as much as I knew awaited me on the cross. Thought of flight was futile, but I entertained it briefly until one of my tormentors ordered me to my feet and walked me to the spot in front of the house where Alan was sitting on a log bench with his hands tied to his cock. I quickly found myself similarly situated.

We exchanged knowing glances, then focused our attention on all the Club members. They were dining on lunch, drinking cool beverages and making merry. From their glances and chuckles, I knew they were revelling in their control over us and their unstoppable plans to crucify us. At least they gave us some refreshment to keep us going.

As they were finishing their repast, Brute approached us and ordered us onto our feet. He freed our cocks from their tethers to our wrists. While the other members watched closely, Brute ordered Alan to drop to his knees and suck my cock. A hint of disgust flickered across his face, but he promptly dropped to his knees, firmly cupped his hands on my ass and started licking my cock. It responded slowly until he started sucking. His lips and tongue were strong and quickly brought my cock to a full erection. I confess I enjoyed it and groaned loudly as I came in his mouth.

I enjoyed sucking his cock even more. As I had seen before, when it is hard, it is long and thick. It completely filled my mouth. (If he is straight, there must be many women who worshipped his body.) I cupped one of his buttocks with one hand and nestled his balls in my other hand. He clasped his hands firmly around my head and pulled it tightly against his pelvis so his cock penetrated deep into my throat. He shot his wad, I licked off the remaining cum on his prick and then stood up.

Ned stepped forward and announced it was time to flog and crucify the slaves. He spread fear into our souls by assuring us that our pain would be more intense and prolonged than what we had experienced during the morning.

Two men grabbed my arms and pulled me over to a spot directly below the suspension bar. As two other men positioned Alan next to me, only a couple of feet away, my wrists were cuffed and the cuffs then hooked together. A rope was tied to the link, the loose end thrown over the bar and pulled down until my arms were stretched above my head. One of the men attached a spreader bar to my ankles. Alan was bound in the same way.

I looked up at my hands and the bar, then down my chest and belly where my muscles were tight. My balls and cock were swinging freely between my spread legs. I looked over at Alan. His body was proudly displayed, all his muscles tight and well defined. He has a powerdul chest and thighs. His cock and balls hung magnificently between his legs.

Our torture began. Two men flogged us on our backs and asses. At least six burning lashes each. I cried out loud with each stroke and tried to twist my body away from the flogger. Two other men then flogged us hard on our chests and bellies so we both cried out and between lashes groaned loudly. I could see bright red marks across my chest and belly and knew the ones on my back must be as bad. Alan and I were left to twist left and right in the absurd hope of freeing ourselves from the pain.

We hung there for several minutes so the members could savor our discomfort and helplessness. Finally, Mercy and Helga came forward. They ran their hands over our torsos to incite more pain and drive home that we were completely at their mercy. Helga grabbed my balls and cruelly squeezed and yanked them. I screamed for several seconds, oblivious to what Mercy was doing to Alan. With an exchange of looks, Helga and Mercy flogged us again and again on our backs, asses, chests and bellies. We struggled violently and begged them to stop. They did eventually. Again, we remained strung up to wallow in our agony as minUte after minute passed slowly.

To top off our pain and humiliation, Helga and Mercy teased our cocks to attention and then used small floggers to work our balls and cocks. I screamed over and over and begged for mercy, but was shown none. We remained upright for some time while the members took turns running their hands over our bodies to torment us even further. In Mercy’s case, she clearly enjoyed caressing Alan’s hard body.

I think I briefly passed and only came to as we were cut down in preparation for our extreme torture.

 

[jack secret]

CRUCIFIXION: Part 1

After an extended rest, Alan and I were directed to stand upright, spread our legs and cup our asses in our hands. Brute walked slowly around us, examining our bodies closely, then said to Ned “they’re ready.” All eyes were on us, making me ever more conscious of my nakedness. I felt humiliated all over again.

Ned approached us, stopped, looked us over and spoke.

”Slaves, you have been condemned to be crucified. You will suffer long, slow agony as your punishment. The silver lining s that you will entertain us. We have discussed whether you should hang on your crosses until you have died excruciating deaths. You deserve that. However, we have agreed not to execute you . . . this time. You will, nonetheless, hang for a very long time until we decide to cut you down. Give us s a good show and we will not cut off your balls.”

Ned came close to me and said, “Slave, are you ready to be crucified?”

”Yes sir.”

”Yes sir what?”

”Sir, I am ready to be crucified .”

Ned moved in front of Alan and quizzed him the same way.

That settled, Ned nodded to Brute and the three other male members. Two of them grabbed my arms and dragged me to the Roman cross to Ned’s right. They tied ropes to my wrist cuffs and threw the loose ends over the cross bar. One pulled the rope so my right wrist was firmly against the cross bar, then tied it tightly three times around my wrist and the bar. The other man did the same with my left wrist. They knelt down and tied a rope around one of my ankles, ran it behind the cross and tied the other end around my other ankle. The two other men bound Alan on the cross to Ned’s left. The center cross was left unoccupied. I looked up at my right hand, tugged hard on the rope, confirming my worst fear that I was securely bound. Then, I looked up at my left hand, tugged and confirmed that it too was securely bound. I shuffled my feet and found I could move them only slightly to the side and not at all forward.

Time passed slowly with nothing happening except for all the members taking seats in front of us and closely observing our readiness for torture. Between fear, pain and resignation to my fate, I had many thoughts racing across my mind. I sought refuge in disassociating from reality, looking up at the blue sky and orange sun on a beautiful day. I scanned the horizon, admiring the surrounding hills, perhaps hoping someone was coming to rescue me. I looked again at my arms, then down on my chest, my belly and my cock and legs. I saw sparkles of light as the sun’s rays reflected off the drops of sweat rolling slowly down my body. I unashamedly admired my body - it is quite good and sexy, although not like Alan’s - and fancied that my tormentors, especially Mercy, would enjoy looking at me. I think there is no more beautiful sight in the world than a naked man’s body stretched on a cross.

I recalled that as a child and a young man I had often admired photos and drawings of naked men sprawled on and tied to crosses. That always excited me and led to my imagining that I too might hang naked on a cross for my executioner’s delight. I frequently wished it were so. Of course, I had no real understanding or appreciation of the horrible agony those victims endured. Only when videos of real men hanging on crosses, writhing in agony and groaning helplessly did I come to realize how cruel crucifixion is. Even then, I had a very incomplete understanding such that I still dreamed of being crucified someday.

 

[jack secret]

CRUCIFIXION: Part 2

My daydreaming ceased as I saw Brute and another man walk to Alan’s cross. As Ned said, “Now,” Brute seized the rope binding Alan’s ankles and rapidly pulled Alan’s feet from under him. Alan let out a sharp cry as his body jerked downwards. I could see that his arms were stretched taut, his armpits sunken into his chest and his chest muscles tightened . The other man tied Alan’s ankles to the cross so his feet were off the ground and his knees bent. Alan pressed up with his legs to relieve the pain in his arms and shoulders. He held that position for at least a minute until fatigue forced him to relax his legs and hang in pain from his arms. His dance on the wood began. For the first time, I saw the shadow of fear on his face.

Having now had fear struck into my heart, Brute yanked my feet from under me. An intense pain surged through my arms and down into my shoulders and chest. I screamed and then settled into a steady groan. For several moments, I felt the thrill of hanging on a cross, but pain started slowly evolving into agony. I looked over at Alan, then into the smiling faces of my tormentors. I too began to dance on the wood, struggling to find a position in which my pain was not so bad. I failed. The more I writhed from side to side and used my arms and legs to move my body up and down, the more I felt my utter helplessness, the more my aching muscles barked with greater pain and the more the wood angered the burning flesh on my back.

Mercy came up to me and reminded me that I would suffer more and more agony over the coming hours. She grabbed my balls, yanked them down and squeezed harder and harder. I suppose it helped take my mind off my other pains, but it hurt like hell. I yelped loudly and begged her to stop. She merely squeezed harder. After enjoying her work for a minute, she then clamped an alligator clip on my prick. I screamed again and again and begged for mercy. She laughed and turned away.

I cannot possibly describe the depth of agony I experienced over what seemed to be an impossibly long time but had been only an hour. Each time I thought it could get no worse, it did, and our tormentors got ever happier and more delighted. For a while, I tried to distract myself. I looked from time to time at Alan and watched him writhe in agony, turning his head from side to side and pushing up with his legs, only for them to collapse. Even in distress, his buff body and dangling manhood were beautiful and sexually exciting. I took some small comfort in hearing him groan steadily and let out an occasional cry so I felt less embarrassed by my cowardly pleas. Even he of the magnificent body was reduced to begging for mercy, asking to be cut down.

I even tried to distract myself by looking over my body, taking in its bulging muscles and glittering flesh. I felt a sense of pleasure and pride in my nakedness. I hoped that my tormentors were admiring it as well. When I was not blinded by shards of light reflecting off my profuse sweat, I could just see my cock hanging between my legs and my prick jerking uncontrollably as the teeth of the alligator clip dug into my tender flesh. Even in that time of desperation, I worried that I might never again get hard and enjoy the wet pussy of a beautiful woman or the intense pleasure of having a sexy man at my feet sucking off my cock.

I am afraid I was more pathetic than Alan. All my sense of manliness evaporated as I fought to control my pain and to resist twisting on the wood. I exerted great effort to continue using my legs to take stress off my arms and shoulders, but lacked the strength and endurance to fight on as long as Alan did. I lost all dignity by begging over and over for mercy, and when that exhausted me I murmured quiet pleas for my tormentors to stop. I am sure I lost some consciousness from time to time. When I lapsed into silence and stillness, someone - usually Mercy - managed to bring me back by strapping my chest or shocking my balls with an electric wand. Finally, even that didn’t work as I blacked out. I do not know how long my tormented body hung on the cross, but felt sure it must have been at least two or three hours. Maybe not. In any event, mercy was granted and I was cut down.

I lay still on the ground, too weak and in too much pain to move or flex my joints. I finally rolled over and ran my hands over my body, assessing the damage and trying to soften the pain. I groaned softly non-stop. At last, someone gave me water and a very strong narcotic to tame the pain. I remained sprawled on the ground for a long time, almost completely insensitive to Alan’s presence. Thankfully, I was ignored for quite a while. As I pulled myself together, I dared to believe that I had completed my punishment and could soon go home. I was not yet at the point that I was grateful for having been crucified, but while I was not then looking forward to a reprise, I did not rule it out.

 

[jack secret]

DEJA VU (or Unintended Consequences)

Rest, water, food and, most of all, narcotics left me feeling better. Certainly not pain free, but able to manage my pain and think clearly. I realized that my flesh would burn for at least a few days, that the red streaks on my back, ass, chest and belly would mark me for many days, and that my muscles and especially my joints would hurt then ache for months. Even so, I was able to look forward to going home and perhaps contemplate allowing the Crucifixion Club to crucify me once again.

Sprawled naked on the ground, sporting for all to see my badges of torture, I even began to feel sexy once more. I felt even better when Brute gave us skin lotion to salve our wounds. After Alan and I slathered the lotion on our chests and bellies, we looked at each other and made quiet reference to our backs. We stood up and I proceeded to rub Alan’s back and ass with generous amounts of lotion. He winced and moaned quietly as I ran my hands over his beautiful body. If I was not feeling randy before, I certainly was then. His firm well-shaped muscles and hard buttocks delighted my hands and eyes.

Alan, in turn, lathered my back and ass with the lotion. He seemed less than happy and was none too gentle, but I did not begrudge him that as it felt so good to have him feeling me out. His hands caressing my ass was exciting, almost enough in my current physical state for me to get a hard-on.

After that, Alan got up, cast a quick peek at me, and walked over to Brute. All the other crucifiers had left for their homes, so Brute alone was keeping an eye on us before driving us back to our cars. Alan spoke to Brute in a low voice so I could not understand his words. Brute seemed to reject whatever Alan was saying, but Alan kept on, gesticulating enthusiastically. Finally, Brute seemed to nod assent. Alan seemed relieved as he turned to walk back and sit down close to me.

I was burning with curiosity, although I was not unduly concerned. I suspected Alan merely wanted to confirm that he would soon go home. Nonetheless, I wanted to hear about his exchange with Brute. He remained silent for several seconds, being dismissive of me, but at last said, with a wry smile and calm voice, “None of your business.” Then, more quietly as he turned his face away, “Not yet, anyway.” That most assuredly did not allay any concern I had. I considered going over to Brute and asking him about it, but sensed he might not welcome my interference.

Nothing was said by anyone for a long while until Brute came over to us. “Time to go. On your feet.” He then tied my hands behind my back and gagged me. He did the same to Alan, then prodded us to begin our long walk back to his van. There, he placed hoods on our heads and none too gently shoved us into the back of the van. This time, he did not hogtie us. Even so, with our flesh and bodies so tender, the bumpy ride back to our original meeting place was unpleasant. Each of us yelped through our gags as we went. Only the thought of home compensated me.

Out of the van - free at last? - Alan and I stood side-by-side while Brute removed out hoods. I was surprised when he ordered me onto my knees and then untied Alan and removed his gag. I did not like the feel of that - even less so when Alan and Brute walked together over to Alan’s car. Alan crawled into his back seat, rummaged around and pulled out a sack of large bills, totaling at least $2,000, so I shortly learned. As Brute counted the money, Alan leaned into the front seat of his car and retrieved his phone. Brute stuffed the bills back into the bag and took the phone as he and Alan walked back over to me. My day of torture had not shaken my brain so much that I did not understand that something was afoot to my disadvantage.

Alan reached under my arms and pulled me up onto my feet. He stood behind me and reached his arms around me, cupped my breasts and pinched my nipples. As he smiled over my shoulder, Brute took a photo with Alan’s phone. A few more photos followed: Alan kneeling on one knee in front of me as he grabbed my balls with one hand and pulled on my cock with his other hand, smiling again; Alan kissing me on the lips; Alan on his knees sucking my cock; and me on my knees pretending to suck his cock, gag still in my mouth. Brute said, “Enough,” handed the phone to Alan and walked to the van and drove away.

My mind mind buzzed with questions and fearful thoughts, but realized that I was totally helpless at Alan’s feet. It turned out that the porno photo session was not over. With his phone and mine, which he had taken from my car, he more deeply compromised me with embarrassing poses. I lay flat on the ground on my face, legs spread, to display my bondage; I lay on my back, legs spread of course, to fully display my cock and balls; I knelt on the ground, leaning backwards, as Alan pulled on a rope tied to my balls. Content that he had enough photos, Alan ordered me onto my feet.

 

[jack secret]

He squeezed my balls hard, then harder, so I struggled against my bonds, twisted my body from side to side and cried as loudly as I could through my gag. Still squeezing, he said, “Mine . . . these balls are mine to use as I wish.” He released his grip, and I bent at my waist, squeezing my knees together desperate to relieve the pain in my nuts.

”From this moment forward, you are my slave . . . my pussyboy. I own you and will use your body when and how I choose. I will fuck you and fuck you over at my pleasure. You will obey me at all times and dedicate yourself to serving me. You will address me as “Sir” and talk only when I tell you to. Do you understand me pussyboy?”

I nodded my head.

”I am going to remove your gag in a moment. When I do, you will acknowledge that I am your master and that you are my slave and pussyboy. You will swear on your life that you will be obedient to me at all times.”

Alan removed my gag and prodded me in my chest. I spoke: “Sir, I acknowledge and accept that you are my master and I am your slave and pussyboy. You own me as yours alone. I swear on my life to obey you and commit to serving you.” Of course, I had no such intention if I could get free.

Alan ordered me onto my knees and to suck his cock. He clasped my head tightly in his hands while his thick, long cock pressed deeply into my mouth and throat. Having shot his load down my throat, he kicked me in the balls. While I groveled on the ground, Alan went to his car, opened the trunk, took out his clothes and dressed. My nakedness now embarrassed me and proclaimed that I was his. . .his inferior, his slave. Alan then leaned into my car and took my wallet out of the glove compartment. He walked back and stood triumphantly over me. “Get up!”

I stood up, and he verbally abused me. “Don’t be proud of yourself. You have a fucking pathetic dick and balls, so don’t expect that I will pleasure you very much. You will be lucky if I don’t cut off your balls sometime.”

After a long pause, Alan continued.

”I don’t place shit on your word. You will obey and serve me for four reasons. First, I have a great body, and you like sucking my dick. Second, I have your driver’s license and know exactly where you live. Third, I have several compromising photos of you that you would not like to see on social media and lampposts in your neighborhood.

Fourth, you will know that if you ever disobey me, I will fuck you worse than you can imagine. In fact, if you are disobedient, or do not serve me well, I will crucify you and watch you die a very slow, agonizing death. I will show you no mercy. It is not enough for you to know or mouth your total submission, I will give you a demonstration that will guide you at all times.”

With that, Alan grabbed the rope tied to my balls and pulled me down the road to a stand of old, dead trees, their bare branches and twigs outlined against the still blue sky. He found one with a strong branch parallel to and 7 feet above the ground. He ordered me to stand under it while he tied a rope around my right wrist, threw the loose end over the branch, pulled my wrist firmly against the branch and securely tied it to the tree. He then did the same with my left wrist, tying it to the branch about 3 feet from my right hand. My feet remained firmly planted on the ground.

Alan ran his hands over my arms and chest, then down my inner thighs. “All mine, pussyvoyboy.” He slapped my chest and belly several times then walked behind me and caressed and slapped my back and ass. Completing the circle, he stood in front of me, squeezed my balls and said, “Learn your lesson well.” After slapping my balls hard, Alan kneeled down and tied my ankles together. Moving behind me, he grabbed the rope around my ankles and pulled up thereby lifting my feet off the ground. My body jerked down, and I cried out loudly. He then looped the rope hanging from my balls around my ankles and tied it off.

The weight of my legs stretched my ball sack so I was in intense pain. I do not know what was worse, the pain in my arms and shoulders or the pain in my nuts. Either way, I was crucified for a second time in the same day.

Alan admired his work for a few minutes as I groaned and begged him to cut me down. He responded by walking away stepping slowly toward his car. Once there, he took a bottle of water and bag of food out from the cabin, leaned against the car and enjoyed his meal, modest though it was. His pleasure was much enhanced by looking at me the whole time, watching as I writhed in agony. I did not know how I could endure much more.

After what seemed an eternity, Alan walked slowly back to me. He did not cut me down. Instead, he looked me over and rubbed his hands over my torso and ass, commenting how nice it looked to see my naked body hanging from a tree. “A cross would be nicer, but this will do. Right, fuckhead?”

I weakly responded, “Yes sir”, but spoiled my obeisance by yet again begging for mercy.

Alan leaned against a nearby tree, lit up a cigarette and enjoyed my humiliation. I could only hope and pray that he would end my ordeal soon. He had another idea. He unbuckled his belt, slowly pulled it free of his pants’ belt loops and snapped it in the air. He stood in my face and rubbed his hands over my chest and shoulders. Draping the belt over my shoulder, he moved behind me and rubbed my back. He stepped back and whipped my back hard several times. I screamed with pain. He laughed and then whipped me good on my chest and belly.

 

[jack secret]

Alan stepped back to smoke another cigarette. Done, he finally cut me down. I squirmed and groveled on the ground for at least 15 minutes. When I looked up, I saw Alan drive off in his car. It was several more minures before I could muster the strength to stand up, and then my balls hurt too bad for me to walk. Dusk was upon me, so I knew I had to get going. I stumbled my way to my car and opened the trunk to get my clothes. They were not there. Alan had taken them, leaving me to drive home in the nude. I was, of course, accustomed by then to be bare-assed naked, but did not relish driving home that way. I was mortified by the thought of other motorists seeing that I was naked on the highway. My salvation was that it would be dark by the time I made the highway. I had to wait in any event for my burning flesh to adjust to my car seat.

In my car was a note from Alan. It read:

”Slave, when you get home send my an email putting into print your agreement that I am your master and that you are my slave and pussyboy. Swear in writing that you will always obey me and serve my pleasures.” If I doubted that my ordeal will was over, this was a splash of cold water on my face.

When I arrived home, I dashed into my house and sat down at my kitchen table. I knew I needed food and beverage, but I had to think. Before I could eat and drink, I desperately needed a shower and more pain reliever. I hate cold showers, but a warm shower would punish my very tender flesh, so cold it was. I washed, rinsed off and dried very gingerly. For the first time ever, I took no pleasure in caressing my own skin, but did manage to put on more lotion. I took another narcotic, then returned to the kitchen to eat. I prepared something simple and high in protein and took it to my table.

I saw my phone and Alan’s note which I had brought in from the car. I reread the note and pondered whether I really needed to email him. I screwed up my courage and opened my phone to look at the photos Alan had taken of me bound naked. That and my vivid recollection of being crucified by him erased all doubt.

I opened my Ipad and sent the following message:

”Sir, I humbly and of my we free will acknowledge that you are my master and I am your slave and pussyboy. I swear that I will obey you at all times and serve your pleasure at your bidding. Jack, slave and pussyboy.”

I took no pleasure in eatting my in-delectable meal. I was trembling with anger and fear, made worse by Alan’s reply:

”Good. Very good.
Slave, remember at all times that if you disobey or lie to me, I will fuck you should over good and crucify you. . .to death.
You need time to recover, so I will not summon you for at least 3 to 4 weeks, probably 5 to 6 weeks.

P.S. So you do not forget or wander, I order you to remain naked in your house and do not jerk off without my permission. Master.”