«Oh no, they have delayed my execution!» [crucifixion, various tortures, semi-cons., reluctant]

Zephirantes · Aug 16, 2024

Amy looked more closely at the naked girl on whom Bill and Jim were “working”—the girl they were executing.
They had already nailed her wrists, and now they moved on to nail her feet.
Amy wanted to say something but didn’t know how to begin. Should she talk to the girl? Or to the executioners, like she did before?
She considered that soon, in a matter of hours probably, she would be in the very same predicament as this poor girl, naked and in pain.
And she wouldn’t want to be ignored. So, she decided to speak directly to the girl.

“What’s your name, darling?” Amy asked, her voice trembling slightly, trying to mask her fear with a friendly tone.

The girl turned her head slightly, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and resignation. “Caitlin,” she replied, her voice strained but steady. “I guess you’re here for the same reason, huh? Dying...”

Amy nodded, forcing a weak smile. “Yeah, I got my notice this morning. Seems we’re all in the same boat… or should I say cross?”

Caitlin managed a weak chuckle, despite the situation. “They both should float! At least we’re in good company. Misery loves company, right?”

"You're very pretty and sweet, darling," confessed Amy with a soothing tone.

"It's so embarrassing to be shown naked and in agony," Caitlin said, a tear slipping down her cheek as she glanced at the crowd of onlookers.

"I can imagine that. But don't worry, you got nothin' to be ashamed of: you're a sight!" Amy tried to comfort her, though the words felt hollow.

"I'm not sure I want to be one," Caitlin murmured, her voice tinged with despair.

Bill, hammer in hand, chimed in with a cheerful tone. “Oh, you two will get along just fine! You can swap tips on how to make the most of your final hours!” He grinned, clearly enjoying the morbid humor.

Jim, lining up the nail with Caitlin’s foot, added with a wink, “And don’t worry, Amy, we’ll make sure you’re just as comfortable as Caitlin here. We pride ourselves on our craftsmanship!”

Amy tried to laugh, though it came out more as a nervous giggle. “Comfortable, huh? Not exactly the word I’d use, but I guess I’ll take what I can get.”

“It’s all about perspective, sweetheart,” Jim replied, driving the nail through Caitlin’s foot with a quick, practiced motion. Caitlin gasped but kept her composure this time, her body tensing as the pain shot through her. She did her best not to scream.

Amy winced at the sight, but she forced herself to keep talking. “So, Caitlin, how are you holding up? I mean, it looks… painful.” She put her hands on the suffering girl's belly, trying to connect with her, to share in her pain—a pain that would soon be hers too.

Caitlin nodded, biting her lip to stifle a groan. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad. But hey, at least I’m getting some attention, right? You know how hard it is to get noticed these days.” She tried to smile, though it was more of a grimace.

“You’re a real trooper, Caitlin,” Amy said, genuinely impressed by the girl’s resolve. “I don’t know if I could be so brave.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised what you can handle when you have no choice,” Caitlin replied with a wink. “Besides, I figure the sooner I get used to this, the better. It’s not like we’re going anywhere.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bill said, giving Caitlin’s shoulder a light pat before stepping back to admire their work. “You’re doing great, Caitlin. You’re really setting the bar high for the other girls.”

Jim nodded in agreement, wiping some imaginary sweat from his brow. “We’ve got a whole day ahead of us, but I think you’re gonna be one of the highlights, Caitlin. You’ve got style!”

Amy glanced at the other crosses, some still empty, others with girls in various stages of agony. “So, what’s it like, hanging there… you know, once the nailing’s done?” she asked, trying to prepare herself for what was to come.

“I suppose it’s not exactly a spa day,” Caitlin said with a dry laugh. “It seems there's no painless position, everybody keeps struggling to find it, with no avail. Anyway, it seems we just have to deal with it.”

Amy nodded, though her stomach churned at the thought. “Yeah, I guess I’ll have to find out soon enough…”

Bill, ever the optimist, piped up. “Hey, remember the bright side, Amy! As said before, at least you’ll get a killer view from up there!”

Jim laughed, slapping his knee. “Good one, Bill! And don’t worry, Amy, we’ll make sure you’re nice and high up so everyone can see you. It’s all about making an impression!”

Amy forced a smile, trying to keep the mood light. “Well, I’ve always wanted to be the center of attention… just not like this. Left naked for my deadly ordeal.”

“It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” Bill said with a grin. “And you’ve got the perfect attitude for it. You’re gonna be a star, Amy!”

Amy sighed, her nerves still jangling but slightly eased by the banter. “I guess I better make the most of it, huh? No point in fighting it.”

“That’s the spirit!” Jim said, giving her a thumbs-up.

As Bill and Jim finished up with Caitlin, who was now fully nailed to her cross and hoisted up for all to see, Amy took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She knew her time would come soon, but at least she wasn’t facing it alone. The dark humor and camaraderie, twisted as it was, gave her a strange sense of comfort.

“Well, Caitlin,” Amy said, looking up at the girl now hanging above her, “I guess I’ll see you up there soon.”

“I’ll save you a spot,” Caitlin replied with a pained but genuine smile, winking. “We can hang out together.”

“Literally,” Amy added, unable to resist the pun.

Jim burst out laughing again. “I like you, Amy! You’ve got a real knack for this gallows humor thing. We’re gonna have a lot of fun executing you!”

Amy’s gaze drifted to the two holes in the large, sturdy vertical pole (called 'stipe'), just south of Caitlin’s groin. “What’s their purpose?” she asked, curiosity overcoming her fear.

Jim grinned wickedly. “Well, not all crucifixions are created equal…”

Bill took over, his voice almost conspiratorial. “Dear Caitlin here is supposed to, well…”

“Receive two wooden sticks in her,” Jim added, his tone playful yet cruel.

Amy blinked, taken aback. “Sticks in her?”

“In her pussy and arsehole, Amy,” Bill clarified, his voice deadpan.

Amy’s eyes widened in shock. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” Jim replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “Some folks think the nails just aren’t enough. Gotta really drive the point home, if you catch my drift.”

"Ancient Romans used sedile and cornu to prolong a crucifee’s suffering, by giving them a point of support…" Bill explained, his tone as if giving a history lesson.

"A point of support? In her genitals and ass?" Amy asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, we modern people prefer to drive two wooden sticks at an angle. It's much more practical and, besides…" Jim continued, his voice casual as if discussing a minor detail.

"Besides?" Amy prompted, feeling a mix of horror and morbid curiosity.

"Well, if you get hold of them, you can piston them deep in or a bit out, basically…" Bill began, pausing for effect.

"Fucking her? A DP?" Amy completed the thought, her voice trembling with the absurdity of the situation.

"Precisely! You're clearly a very knowledgeable girl in this field," Jim responded with a mischievous grin. "I'm sure you're used to watching that kind of pornography, masturbating like a slut..."

Zephirantes · Aug 16, 2024

“Perhaps,” replied Amy, feigning outrage at that innuendo.

“Caitlin, I fear the two gentlemen here wanna give you a... how to call that? A wooden double penetration!” Amy said, her voice trembling with a mix of horror and a surreal attempt at humor.

Caitlin’s eyes widened in disbelief, her breath hitching as she processed Amy’s words. “Oh god! Isn't being crucified enough?” she exclaimed, her voice laced with a desperate mix of fear and disbelief.

Jim chuckled, his tone almost fatherly as he responded. “I'm afraid not, gal. For you, the execution center recommended crucifixion with option F35. Which means, you have to take these two long sticks deep into your lower orifices, my dear.” He said it as if explaining the features of a luxury car.

“F35? Are you serious?” Caitlin gasped, trying to comprehend the absurdity of it all. “And why does it sound like a fighter jet?”

“Fucking government bureaucracy codes,” explained Jim, with equal contempt to hide torture and punishment under meaningless acronyms. “The more a government sucks, the more it feels the need to sugarcoat reality and hide things under acronyms, abbreviations, codes and so on. It takes a fucking dictionary just to understand what they are saying, and what they want.”

Bill grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “Well, whatever the origin of the F35 label, you could say you’re in for a ride, Caitlin. Fighter jet or not, it’s gonna be a hell of a flight for you” He winked, as if the whole situation were some kind of dark joke.

“This is beyond insane!” Caitlin muttered, her voice cracking as she tried to maintain some semblance of composure. “Why me? What did I do to deserve this extra... attention?”

Jim shrugged, his demeanor casual. “I'm note sue, but I think it’s just the luck of the draw, really. Some girls get the basic package, and some, like you, get the deluxe treatment. It’s all about giving the audience something memorable, you know?” He said it with a grin, as if he were proud of the “upgraded” execution.

“There are a number of different protocols in fact, to add some variety to the crucifixions. Yours require a double impaling of your cunt and asshole. You see? These sticks will go through the holes in the vertical beam, and, well directly into you,” Bill explained, as though giving a detailed lesson on the mechanics of execution.

“And even after we're done with you, the crowd might, you know... piston them in and out,” Jim added, his tone playful yet cruel.

“Oh god, they would fuck my holes!” Caitlin’s voice wavered between panic and disbelief.

“Yeah, but the bright side is that with the sticks deep in your colon and vagina, it's gonna be easier for you to raise to breathe... you'll last longer this way,” Bill said, trying to put a positive spin on the gruesome situation.

Amy, trying to lighten the mood despite the macabre situation, chimed in. “Well, Caitlin, I guess you’re just too special for the standard crucifixion.” She forced a laugh, though it came out more like a nervous giggle.

“Special? Is that what you call it?” Caitlin replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’d rather be ordinary, thank you very much.”

Bill laughed heartily at that. “Ordinary’s no fun, Caitlin. You’ve got style, gal! You’re gonna make history with this one!” His tone was both admiring and teasing, as if Caitlin were about to embark on a grand adventure rather than endure a gruesome execution.

Jim, ever the practical one, began adjusting the positions of the sticks, driving them through the holes in the vertical beam, preparing them for their grim purpose. “Alright, Caitlin, time to get these babies in place. You ready?” He asked it almost cheerfully, as if he were merely helping her into a comfortable chair.

Caitlin bit her lip, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Do I have a choice?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Not really, but hey, it’ll all be over soon enough,” Jim replied with a reassuring pat on her leg, as if he were comforting a child before a minor surgery.

Amy, trying to muster some courage, reached out and squeezed Caitlin’s leg. “You’re brave, Caitlin. You can go thru this.”

Caitlin managed a weak smile, though her eyes were filled with dread. “Yeah, I’ll try. Thanks, Amy.” She closed her eyes, trying to mentally prepare herself for what was to come.

Caitlin winced, her body already trembling from the pain of the nails, but she forced herself to stay composed. “I guess I’m in for the full experience then,” she said, trying to sound brave, though her voice wavered.

“That’s the spirit!” Bill said, giving her a mock salute as he positioned the first stick. “Just try to relax, and this will be over before you know it. Well, sorta…”

Amy watched, horrified yet unable to look away as Bill and Jim began their task. Bill held Caitlin’s legs apart, while Jim carefully aligned the first stick with her exposed sex. The two men exchanged a knowing look, a shared understanding of the brutality of their work, but also a certain perverse satisfaction in carrying it out.

“Here we go, darling,” Jim said softly, as if offering comfort. “Just take a deep breath…”

Jim used his fingers to spread Caitlin's labia. “It’s good to see you’re wet, girl. It will make the insertion easier,” he commented, almost as if he were offering praise.

Amy was shocked at the idea that Caitlin, nude and suffering high on her cross, might be wet. But in fact, she could not deny a certain sexy allure in crucifying a naked girl. The cross stretches a girl's body in such a way that makes her even prettier and desirable, and, well, this could be darkly sexy and fun for some people. And not only for the onlookers, even for some of the girls that are crucified, or are about to be.

Amy wondered if it were true for men too. Would some of the crucified men sport an... erection during their execution? Who knows: her grim reality, Crucifixion Hill, was girls-only.

Bill slowly began to insert the stick into Caitlin’s vagina. Caitlin gasped, her body going rigid as the rough wood pressed into her tender flesh. Her ruined hands clenched into fists, her fingers digging into her palms as she fought to endure the new wave of pain that surged through her nailed wrists.

“Easy now, Caitlin,” Bill murmured, his tone almost soothing. “Just let it happen. You’re doing great. Let yourself be entered...”

Amy couldn’t believe what she was seeing, the casual cruelty of it all, the way Bill and Jim treated the entire process as though they were simply going through the motions of a well-practiced routine. She felt a mix of horror and fascination, knowing that soon, this might be her fate as well.
Actually... what was the protocol written on her own notice? She didn't mind it before, it seemed just a meaningless sequence of letters and numbers.
And now the slip of paper was in Jim's pocket.
Oh well, she would ask later.

“And there we go,” Bill said with satisfaction as he finally pushed the stick fully inside Caitlin's cunt. “Nice and snug. You’re a real trooper, Caitlin.”

Caitlin’s breath came in ragged gasps, her eyes wide and glassy with pain, but she managed a weak nod. “Thanks… I guess,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Jim chuckled, patting her on the thigh. “One down, one to go. You’re almost there, darling.”

Without wasting any time, Bill picked up the second stick, positioning it at Caitlin’s anus. He met her gaze briefly, his expression one of grim determination. “Just one more, Caitlin. You can do this.”

"I... I have never done anal!" said the scared yet helpless girl.

"Well, there's a first time for everythin’," Jim said, almost casually.

"In your case, first and last, as, you know, you're gonna die here," Bill added with a grim chuckle.

Amy’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin. She wanted to say something, to protest, but the words caught in her throat. All she could do was stand there, frozen, as Bill began to push the second stick closer to Caitlin’s body, her back star in clear view as Jim spread open her cheeks.

The stick pressed into her tight, puckered anus. Caitlin felt the sharp tip scrape her a bit before Bill centered it... and then pushed true thru her sphincter.

Caitlin cried out, her back arching as the stick was forced inside her, the pain too much to bear in silence. Tears streamed down her face, but she bit her lip, determined not to scream again.

“Almost there, Caitlin,” Jim said encouragingly, though his tone was tinged with a strange amusement. “You’re really making us proud.”

Finally, with one last push, the second stick was fully inserted, deep into her colon. Caitlin slumped against the cross, her body shaking with the effort of enduring the relentless agony.

“Perfect fit,” Bill said, stepping back to admire his work. “You’re all set now, Caitlin. Just hang tight.”

Bad Boris · Aug 16, 2024

Zephirantes said:
“Perhaps,” replied Amy, feigning outrage at that innuendo.

“Caitlin, I fear the two gentlemen here wanna give you a... how to call that? A wooden double penetration!” Amy said, her voice trembling with a mix of horror and a surreal attempt at humor.

Caitlin’s eyes widened in disbelief, her breath hitching as she processed Amy’s words. “Oh god! Isn't being crucified enough?” she exclaimed, her voice laced with a desperate mix of fear and disbelief.

Jim chuckled, his tone almost fatherly as he responded. “I'm afraid not, gal. For you, the execution center recommended crucifixion with option F35. Which means, you have to take these two long sticks deep into your lower orifices, my dear.” He said it as if explaining the features of a luxury car.

“F35? Are you serious?” Caitlin gasped, trying to comprehend the absurdity of it all. “And why does it sound like a fighter jet?”

“Fucking government bureaucracy codes,” explained Jim, with equal contempt to hide torture and punishment under meaningless acronyms. “The more a government sucks, the more it feels the need to sugarcoat reality and hide things under acronyms, abbreviations, codes and so on. It takes a fucking dictionary just to understand what they are saying, and what they want.”

Bill grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “Well, whatever the origin of the F35 label, you could say you’re in for a ride, Caitlin. Fighter jet or not, it’s gonna be a hell of a flight for you” He winked, as if the whole situation were some kind of dark joke.

“This is beyond insane!” Caitlin muttered, her voice cracking as she tried to maintain some semblance of composure. “Why me? What did I do to deserve this extra... attention?”

Jim shrugged, his demeanor casual. “I'm note sue, but I think it’s just the luck of the draw, really. Some girls get the basic package, and some, like you, get the deluxe treatment. It’s all about giving the audience something memorable, you know?” He said it with a grin, as if he were proud of the “upgraded” execution.

“There are a number of different protocols in fact, to add some variety to the crucifixions. Yours require a double impaling of your cunt and asshole. You see? These sticks will go through the holes in the vertical beam, and, well directly into you,” Bill explained, as though giving a detailed lesson on the mechanics of execution.

“And even after we're done with you, the crowd might, you know... piston them in and out,” Jim added, his tone playful yet cruel.

“Oh god, they would fuck my holes!” Caitlin’s voice wavered between panic and disbelief.

“Yeah, but the bright side is that with the sticks deep in your colon and vagina, it's gonna be easier for you to raise to breathe... you'll last longer this way,” Bill said, trying to put a positive spin on the gruesome situation.

Amy, trying to lighten the mood despite the macabre situation, chimed in. “Well, Caitlin, I guess you’re just too special for the standard crucifixion.” She forced a laugh, though it came out more like a nervous giggle.

“Special? Is that what you call it?” Caitlin replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’d rather be ordinary, thank you very much.”

Bill laughed heartily at that. “Ordinary’s no fun, Caitlin. You’ve got style, gal! You’re gonna make history with this one!” His tone was both admiring and teasing, as if Caitlin were about to embark on a grand adventure rather than endure a gruesome execution.

Jim, ever the practical one, began adjusting the positions of the sticks, driving them through the holes in the vertical beam, preparing them for their grim purpose. “Alright, Caitlin, time to get these babies in place. You ready?” He asked it almost cheerfully, as if he were merely helping her into a comfortable chair.

Caitlin bit her lip, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Do I have a choice?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Not really, but hey, it’ll all be over soon enough,” Jim replied with a reassuring pat on her leg, as if he were comforting a child before a minor surgery.

Amy, trying to muster some courage, reached out and squeezed Caitlin’s leg. “You’re brave, Caitlin. You can go thru this.”

Caitlin managed a weak smile, though her eyes were filled with dread. “Yeah, I’ll try. Thanks, Amy.” She closed her eyes, trying to mentally prepare herself for what was to come.

Caitlin winced, her body already trembling from the pain of the nails, but she forced herself to stay composed. “I guess I’m in for the full experience then,” she said, trying to sound brave, though her voice wavered.

“That’s the spirit!” Bill said, giving her a mock salute as he positioned the first stick. “Just try to relax, and this will be over before you know it. Well, sorta…”

Amy watched, horrified yet unable to look away as Bill and Jim began their task. Bill held Caitlin’s legs apart, while Jim carefully aligned the first stick with her exposed sex. The two men exchanged a knowing look, a shared understanding of the brutality of their work, but also a certain perverse satisfaction in carrying it out.

“Here we go, darling,” Jim said softly, as if offering comfort. “Just take a deep breath…”

Jim used his fingers to spread Caitlin's labia. “It’s good to see you’re wet, girl. It will make the insertion easier,” he commented, almost as if he were offering praise.

Amy was shocked at the idea that Caitlin, nude and suffering high on her cross, might be wet. But in fact, she could not deny a certain sexy allure in crucifying a naked girl. The cross stretches a girl's body in such a way that makes her even prettier and desirable, and, well, this could be darkly sexy and fun for some people. And not only for the onlookers, even for some of the girls that are crucified, or are about to be.

Amy wondered if it were true for men too. Would some of the crucified men sport an... erection during their execution? Who knows: her grim reality, Crucifixion Hill, was girls-only.

Bill slowly began to insert the stick into Caitlin’s vagina. Caitlin gasped, her body going rigid as the rough wood pressed into her tender flesh. Her ruined hands clenched into fists, her fingers digging into her palms as she fought to endure the new wave of pain that surged through her nailed wrists.

“Easy now, Caitlin,” Bill murmured, his tone almost soothing. “Just let it happen. You’re doing great. Let yourself be entered...”

Amy couldn’t believe what she was seeing, the casual cruelty of it all, the way Bill and Jim treated the entire process as though they were simply going through the motions of a well-practiced routine. She felt a mix of horror and fascination, knowing that soon, this might be her fate as well.
Actually... what was the protocol written on her own notice? She didn't mind it before, it seemed just a meaningless sequence of letters and numbers.
And now the slip of paper was in Jim's pocket.
Oh well, she would ask later.

“And there we go,” Bill said with satisfaction as he finally pushed the stick fully inside Caitlin's cunt. “Nice and snug. You’re a real trooper, Caitlin.”

Caitlin’s breath came in ragged gasps, her eyes wide and glassy with pain, but she managed a weak nod. “Thanks… I guess,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Jim chuckled, patting her on the thigh. “One down, one to go. You’re almost there, darling.”

Without wasting any time, Bill picked up the second stick, positioning it at Caitlin’s anus. He met her gaze briefly, his expression one of grim determination. “Just one more, Caitlin. You can do this.”

"I... I have never done anal!" said the scared yet helpless girl.

"Well, there's a first time for everythin’," Jim said, almost casually.

"In your case, first and last, as, you know, you're gonna die here," Bill added with a grim chuckle.

Amy’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin. She wanted to say something, to protest, but the words caught in her throat. All she could do was stand there, frozen, as Bill began to push the second stick closer to Caitlin’s body, her back star in clear view as Jim spread open her cheeks.

The stick pressed into her tight, puckered anus. Caitlin felt the sharp tip scrape her a bit before Bill centered it... and then pushed true thru her sphincter.

Caitlin cried out, her back arching as the stick was forced inside her, the pain too much to bear in silence. Tears streamed down her face, but she bit her lip, determined not to scream again.

“Almost there, Caitlin,” Jim said encouragingly, though his tone was tinged with a strange amusement. “You’re really making us proud.”

Finally, with one last push, the second stick was fully inserted, deep into her colon. Caitlin slumped against the cross, her body shaking with the effort of enduring the relentless agony.

“Perfect fit,” Bill said, stepping back to admire his work. “You’re all set now, Caitlin. Just hang tight.”

Loving the story. How will she cope with her DP?

Zephirantes · Aug 16, 2024

Amy hesitated for a moment, the surreal weight of the situation crashing down on her as Caitlin’s words echoed in her mind.

The sight of Caitlin, impaled and tortured, yet still managing to feel something disturbingly close to pleasure, twisted something deep within her. The crowd, the executioners, and the macabre scene had all blended into a nightmarish reality that Amy could barely comprehend.

"Oh god! I feel so full and stuffed down there," Caitlin gasped, her voice strained but tinged with an odd mix of pain and resignation.

Amy turned to look at the crowd, eager to drink in the suffering of the crucified girls. There were a couple of perverts with their hands in the pants, jerking off. But even a few women visibly aroused by the show Caitlin and the other crucified girls were giving.
And that she would soon be giving, Amy regarded with horror.

And then, Amy noticed that a girl to be crucified, already naked, probably next on Bill and Jim's death-list, was also masturbating with great gusto. She was digging into her own cunt with ardor. So, indeed, there are girls that are sexually stimulated by the thought of being put down this way.

“Say, wouldn't you like to piston your new friend?” Jim asked breaking the silence and catching Amy by surprise, his tone suddenly conspiratorial, as if offering a secret thrill.

“How?” Amy asked, feeling a cold sweat break out across her skin.

“Push those poles up and down inside her,” Bill suggested, his voice almost gleeful at the thought.

Amy hesitated, her mind reeling at the suggestion. The sheer cruelty of the idea clashed with the surreal, almost dream-like logic of the situation. But there was a strange pull, a dark curiosity that made her wonder—just for a moment—what it would feel like to have such power over someone else’s suffering. To fuck her nether holes with wooden sticks.

Caitlin, catching Amy’s hesitation, managed a weak smile, despite the agony she was in. “Go ahead, Amy. Might as well make the most of it, right? After all, we're not getting out of here alive,” she said, her voice wavering but filled with a resigned acceptance.

"R... really?" replied Amy hesitantly, undecided about what to say and especially what to do.

"I always fantasized about DP, but never acted on that. It seems this is my last chance, right?" Caitlin added, her voice tinged with a bitter irony.

"You really fancy being DPed?" Amy was shaken not so much by the revelation itself, because she too had fantasized about similar things. But about the fact that poor Caitlin would think of confessing such an intimate thought while being crucified and penetrated, in public.
Oh, well, it seems that the cross loosens people up a bit.

"Yeah, but you know... a boyfriend ain't enough! You need two of 'em! Difficult setup!" Caitlin tried to joke, but her voice cracked under the weight of her situation.

Jim and Bill exchanged a look, clearly amused by the twisted camaraderie forming between the two girls. “That’s the spirit, Caitlin. You’re taking this whole ordeal like a champ!” Jim said with a nod of approval.

Amy, feeling a mix of horror and strange solidarity with Caitlin, reached out tentatively toward one of the sticks. Her hand shook as she touched the rough wood, feeling the vibrations from Caitlin’s body as she hung there, impaled and helpless. “I... I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Sure you can, Amy,” Bill encouraged, his voice softening slightly, as if he were coaxing her into trying something new. “Just give it a little push. You might be surprised at how easy it is.”

Amy swallowed hard, then slowly began to apply pressure to the stick, feeling it shift slightly inside Caitlin’s twat. The movement elicited a sharp gasp from Caitlin, her body tensing in response. The mix of pain and something else—something darker—flickered in Caitlin’s eyes as she looked down at Amy.

“See? Not so hard, is it?” Jim said, his tone almost playful as he watched Amy’s reaction.

Amy felt a surge of conflicting emotions—horror, and an odd sense of power—as she continued to move the stick up and down.
For real, Caitlin's body, or at least, her most sensitive orifices, were in Amy's hands now, and she could dispose of them as she pleased. What is power, if not clutching in her hand two wooden stakes driven into a girl's ass and snatch?

Caitlin’s breathing grew more ragged, but there was also a strange determination in her expression, as if she were forcing herself to endure this final humiliation with some semblance of dignity.

"You're very wet, gal. You're leakin'!" Bill noted with a twisted grin, clearly entertained by the sight.

"Ah... ah..." Caitlin gasped, her body trembling under the conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure.

“You’re doing great, Amy. And you, Caitlin, you’re really something,” Bill said, his voice filled with a twisted kind of admiration.

"The other one, too, please... the other stick. Fuck me like the dirty slut I am," Caitlin’s voice was shaky, but there was a dark, almost desperate need behind her words. "Fuck my ass!"

Amy hesitated for a moment, her mind struggling to process the surreal, horrific reality of what she was doing. But the twisted encouragement from Caitlin and the dark fascination of the situation pushed her forward. She reached out to the second stick, her hand trembling as she touched it. “Okay, Caitlin... here it goes,” she whispered, almost as if seeking permission.

As Amy began to push the second stick deeper into Caitlin’s penetrated asshole, the girl's body convulsed in response, a mix of pain and something disturbingly close to pleasure contorting her features. “Oh god, Amy... you’re really doing it...” Caitlin gasped, her voice filled with a strange blend of agony and dark, twisted satisfaction.

"Am I hurting you?" Amy asked, her voice wavering with a mix of guilt and dark curiosity.

"A bit, but... that's the whole point of being crucified with protocol F35, isn't it?"

"Precisely, DPed girl!" Jim added, chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

"Lucky me you've lubricated the stick in my ass!" Caitlin managed to joke, despite the pain etched across her face.

"Sure, Caitlin: no anal without some good lubricant. Those are the fucking ropes!" Bill quipped, clearly enjoying the macabre banter.

"Or... the ropes for fucking?" quipped Caitlin, suppressing a groan of pain and desire.

Jim and Bill watched with a mix of amusement and approval, clearly enjoying the perverse performance they had orchestrated according to protocol F35. “You’re both really something else,” Jim commented, his tone admiring as he watched Amy continue to piston the sticks inside Caitlin.

“This is what you call industrious teamwork!” Bill added with a laugh, clearly reveling in the dark humor of the situation.

Amy, her heart pounding and her mind spinning, couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of camaraderie with Caitlin as she continued. “It seems we're in this together, Caitlin,” she said, her voice trembling as she pushed the sticks a little deeper.

Caitlin, despite the agony she was in, managed a weak, grim smile. “Yeah... oh... we are indeed,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the crowd and her own labored breathing. “Thanks, Amy... for being here... for this.”

Amy felt a pang of something—guilt, horror, a twisted sense of connection—as she continued to move the sticks inside Caitlin, fucking rhythmically her anus and pussy both. One in, one out, and then vice versa.

Caitlin's body responded, in heat: a mixture of pain, dread, and sexual desire. A body in need to be used before her required death. A desire to be exhausted and exploited to the max, before the inevitable end.

"I think I'm... oh god... I'm gonna cum," Caitlin gasped, her body convulsing as the wave of a powerful, twisted orgasm began to slowly overtake her, mingling with the excruciating pain of her crucifixion.

Zephirantes · Aug 16, 2024

Amy looked up at Bill and Jim, her emotions a chaotic mix of relief, fear, and a strange sense of disbelief.

"That's good Caitlin, taste all the powerful feelings you can, gal. A good orgasm will make you feel better," Jim encouraged, his voice carrying an unsettling mix of kindness and cruelty as he watched Caitlin writhe on the cross, prey to spasms of pain and approaching orgasm.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming like a dirty whore!" Caitlin gasped, her body trembling violently as the wave of her orgasm crashed over her, blending with the excruciating pain of her crucifixion.
Her naked, sweaty body arched as a rush of sexual pleasure hit her mind, as if to erase her individuality, just for a moment, in an explosion of carnal enjoyment. The agony and ecstasy merged into one overwhelming sensation, leaving her breathless and gasping.

"Good girl, that's a good girl. Big enough to suffer, die, and, well, climax at the same time," Bill said, a twisted grin spreading across his face as he watched Caitlin’s final moments of pleasure.

Amy, still in a state of shock and disbelief, whispered to herself, "I... I made Caitlin cum." The realization of what she had just done, the power she had wielded over Caitlin’s suffering and pleasure, left her reeling.
Her nude body struggled from the aftershock of her unholy pleasure.

"You're good too, Amy. You gave your new friend there a pleasant gift. You should be proud," Jim said, his tone almost congratulatory as he patted Amy on the shoulder, as if she had accomplished something admirable.

Caitlin, her breathing ragged but more steady now, managed a weak smile. "Thank you, Amy. Strange as it might seem... in my twisted mind, I needed an orgasm, really. Thank you." Her voice was filled with a mix of gratitude and resignation, as if she had come a bit more to terms with her fate in those final, orgasmic moments.

"Do you feel better, Caitlin?" Amy asked, her voice trembling with a mix of concern and disbelief. She couldn't fully grasp the surreal reality she was living, but she clung to the connection she had forged with Caitlin, however dark and twisted it might be.

"Yeah, quite. Thank you. It's so much better to deal with my execution after a good cum. I feel much more... relaxed? Yeah, that's the most suitable word, I think. It's strange." Caitlin’s voice was calm, almost peaceful, as if cumming provided her with a brief escape from the torment of her crucifixion and looming death.

"I cummed to a DP, while crucified and dying... I would have never imagined somethin' like that," Caitlin added, her tone a strange mix of horror, disbelief and... erotic satisfaction, perhaps?

"When you've nothin' left to lose, you can go all in with what you really like, gal," Jim said, his voice carrying a twisted sort of wisdom.

"You know, being free from mortal constraints, as, technically speaking, for the law you're already an executed girl. A female corpse, formally," Bill added, with a knowing nod.

"I don't feel like a corpse. Not at all. I feel so alive," Caitlin murmured, the irony of her words hanging in the air.

"They say that as long as you can feel pain, you're alive, so... I fear you'll be very alive in the coming hours and days, gal," Jim said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the twisted truth of his words.
Some might think Caitlin was a piece of meat, now to be tortured, now to be aroused, so in sequence, until she dies. Like a worthless toy, to be played with, and to be thrown away when broken. To tell the truth, many have thought and still think this.
But not Amy, no, she did not think anything like that!

For her, the crucified girl was a person, all right. Alive but condemned to death, who precisely as a person lives the last, tremendous experience of her short life.
And who, nailed to the top of her own wooden patibulum, communicates with her peers, makes them part, as much as possible, of the atrocious sensations she feels.
Amy could not deny that there was some dark charm in this. Something that soon she herself would be forced to experience, on her own flesh, bared for all to see and enjoy.

Bill nodded in approval, clearly satisfied with the outcome. "Good. Now we can proceed with the next executee..." He said it casually, as if the horrific process they had just witnessed was nothing more than a routine task to be checked off a list.

Bill’s gaze shifted to the girl who had been shamelessly fingering herself as she watched Caitlin’s ordeal. She was still panting, her fingers glistening with her own pussy juices as she met Bill’s eyes with a mix of excitement and dread.

“Looks like you’re next, gal.” Bill’s voice was almost playful, as if he were inviting her to join in a game.

"M-Me? Now? can't we just..." she stammered, her fear palpable.

"It's your turn, gal. Ready to feel what Caitlin just felt, uh?" Jim prodded, his voice filled with dark amusement.

The girl, her breath hitching with fear, nodded. “N-No I'm not ready. I'm not! But, it doesn't matter anymore at this point, right?” she stammered, her eyes flicking to Caitlin’s trembling, crucified and impaled body before looking back at Bill.

"No, it doesn't. Please come here. This pretty cross is ready for you," Bill said, his tone businesslike yet tinged with a cruel edge. "To slowly execute you, I mean."

Jim chuckled, clearly amused by the girl’s trembling response. “Come on then, let’s get you up on that cross. We wouldn’t want to keep the crowd waiting,” he said with a grin, gesturing for her to step forward.

As the girl approached the cross, Amy watched in a daze, still reeling from what she had just done to Caitlin. Inflicted to her defenseless body and, in particular... to her horny orifices.
The reality of her own impending crucifixion loomed ever closer, but for the moment, she was transfixed by the weird spectacle unfolding before her.

The girl, now fully naked and stretched out on the cross, let out a soft whimper as she felt the cold steel of the nails against her skin. “I… I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like… to be… like this…” she murmured, her voice trembling with anticipation and fear.

“Well, darling, you’re about to find out,” Bill replied with a grin, as he raised the hammer high above her.

"But now, I'm so scared... oh god, I don't wanna die! Not like this!" she yelled, scared.

"May I..." Amy’s voice was tentative, her mind still grappling with the horror of what she was about to suggest.

"What?" Bill asked, curiosity piqued.

"May I... you know, finger her? She might find her nailing more... bearable," Amy's voice quivered with both fear and the strange compulsion she felt to repeat the twisted ritual.

Bill paused, considering the request with a twisted grin. "Let's ask. Hey gal, do you wanna Amy here masturbate your cunt?"

The girl, her eyes wide with fear and arousal, nodded shakily. "I'm Jess, and... that's so humiliating, but... yeah, maybe it will help. Thanks, I guess," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You heard her, keep this minx well excited as we join her to the wood," Bill said with a wicked smile, clearly relishing the dark irony of the situation.

Amy, her heart pounding, reached out to Jess, her fingers trembling as they found their way to the girl's wet, throbbing pussy. Jess’s body tensed, both from the unexpected touch of Amy's fingers on her delicate nether folds, and from the expected pain of the nail in her young body.

With a sickening thud, the first nail drove through her wrist, sending a sharp cry of pain reverberating through the air. The crowd, eager for more, surged closer, their eyes gleaming with morbid fascination.

“Hang in there, Jess... I’m here,” Amy whispered, her voice a mix of compassion and horror as she moved her fingers, manipulating her wet inner lips, trying to bring Jess some semblance of comfort in the midst of the agony.

“Ah... ahh... thank you... Amy,” Jess gasped, her body torn between the searing pain of the crucifixion, the awareness of her now inevitable death, and the strange, dark pleasure of Amy’s touch.

Jim, watching with dark amusement, added another nail to Jess’s wrist. “You two make quite the team. Keep it up, Amy. We’ve got a show to put on here,” he said with a wink.

Bill drove the next nail through Jess’s other wrist, her scream filling the air as her body jerked against the restraints. “That’s it, girl. Feel every bit of it. Like the good, hot crucifee you are,” he said, his voice laced with a cruel satisfaction.

Amy continued to move her fingers, trying to bring Jess to the edge, her own emotions a whirlwind of confusion, guilt, and a strange sense of duty. “You’re strong, Jess. You’re so strong and brave,” she whispered, her voice shaking as she fought to maintain her composure.

Jess’s breathing grew ragged, her body trembling with the intense mix of pain and arousal. “I... I think... oh god, Amy, I’m... I’m gonna cum,” she gasped, her voice barely audible through the pain. "It's so twisted, they are destroying my hands and feet! I shouldn't cum!"

“It is precisely because we are destroying you hands and feet that it is time to come without restraint in front of everyone, gal,” said Jim in a grotesquely professorial tone.

“Good, Jess. Let it all out,” Amy whispered, her own tears mingling with the eerie reality they were both trapped in.

As Jess’s body tensed in an agonizing spasm, she let out a broken cry, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave, mingling with the excruciating pain of her painful crucifixion. The crowd, captivated by the brutal spectacle, watched in awe as the final nail was driven into Jess’s feet, securing her to the cross for the remainder of her short life.

There were cheers and claps. "You go girl!"

“Do you hear them? The crowd is excited about you two girls. And what better music than the enthusiastic approval of the audience?” said Jim affably and contentedly.

"Well done, girls. You’re both good at this,” Bill said, stepping back to admire Jess now nailed on her cross, her nude body glistening with sweat, tears, and the aftermath of her horrific ordeal. With Bill's help, they raised her cross, and her pinned body on it.

"But we're late on schedule. Very late," Bill continued, his tone turning more businesslike.

"Amy, I'm afraid that at this pace we cannot crucify you today," Jim said, glancing at the lineup of crosses still waiting to be occupied.

"We have to put off the meeting with your own cross at least until tomorrow, I fear" Bill added with a hint of regret. "I confess, I looked forward to execute you today!"

"Are you sorry about the delay?" Jim asked, a curious smirk on his face as he awaited Amy’s reaction.

thecuriousone · Aug 16, 2024

Looks to me like Bill and Jim will lose their job eventually. They work so slow, all the time allowing themselves to be distracted by talking to their work....

Zephirantes · Aug 16, 2024

thecuriousone said:
Looks to me like Bill and Jim will lose their job eventually. They work so slow, all the time allowing themselves to be distracted by talking to their work....

They're civil servants, they're entitled to be inefficient and distracted!

Zephirantes · Aug 16, 2024

And then she paused, her mind racing as she considered the surreal and grim reality of her situation.

"I... I dunno, really. I feel like, you know, on borrowed time," Amy said, her voice wavering as she tried to process the surreal nature of her delayed execution.

"You are, by all means," Bill replied with a smirk, his tone carrying a mix of amusement and dark realism. "Your imminent meeting with death is only postponed by a day."

"I mean, I should be happy to have more hours to live as a... well, un-nailed person. Without pain, and, well, clothed..." Amy continued, her voice trailing off as she glanced at the crosses and the suffering girls.

"But instead, you're feeling that weird mix of relief and dread, huh?" Jim chimed in, his tone sympathetic but still tinged with that unsettling executioner's edge. "Like, sure, you're not hanging there today, but tomorrow’s still coming."

Amy nodded, biting her lip. "Yeah, exactly. It’s like I’m relieved, but at the same time, knowing I’m just postponing the inevitable... it’s eating at me."

Bill chuckled softly. "Ah, the existential dread. Gotta love it. But hey, look at it this way—one more day to enjoy the little things, right? Maybe find something fun to do with your extra time."

"Fun? In a place like this?" Amy asked incredulously, glancing around at the grim surroundings, the crosses, the impaled body of Caitlin...

"You can still use your hands and feet. Put 'em to good use. You won't anymore, after we'll nail you," Jim added with a twisted grin, clearly enjoying the dark humor of the situation.

"You’ve seen how some of these gals get... creative. Who knows? Maybe you’ll surprise yourself." Jim said with a wink.

"You mean... masturbate? Here, in front of half the town?" Amy's voice was a mix of shock and morbid curiosity as she considered the suggestion.

Bill clapped her on the back with a grin. "That’s the spirit! Just take it one moment at a time. After all, you’re technically living on bonus time now. Might as well make it count. Get some good cum."

"I'm not sure I deserve that. I mean, I abused Caitlin and Jess," Amy whispered, her guilt starting to bubble up.

"No, you didn't abuse anyone, Amy. Actually, you made 'em a big, big favor," Bill countered, his voice softening a bit.

"Did I? I felt... I had power over them. Over their helpless bodies," Amy admitted, struggling with her emotions.

"And you had that power, indeed. But you used it to make them feel good," Jim pointed out, trying to reassure her.

"That's very sweet, actually," added Bill.

"Maybe, I... I'm not sure. I'm confused," she continued, her voice trembling.

"Sure you are. You're scheduled to be put down soon, and you find yourself in the midst of dying girls..." Bill began, his tone serious.

"... and two cruel, heinous executioners like us, after all," Jim added with a grim chuckle.

"That's very distressing and confusing, for sure," Bill concluded, nodding in agreement.

"I'm not sure you two are really as cruel and efferate as you pretend to be," Amy said, a hint of doubt in her voice.

"Just wait until we nail your pretty naked body to the cross, darling," Bill replied with a dark smile.

"Yeah, okay, you're executioners, and you execute people, that's obvious. And yet, at least you're gentle and kind," Amy added, still trying to make sense of it all.

"No point in not being kind when you are about to kill a girl," Jim said, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"I think you're paraphrasing Winston Churchill, by the way," Amy said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"Probably," Bill chuckled.

"Anyway," Amy sighed, the absurdity of the situation weighing heavily on her. "I guess... I should make the most of this borrowed time. I mean, what else can I do?"

Jim nodded approvingly. "Exactly. Who knows? You might find something that makes you smile, even in a place like this."

Bill laughed, his tone oddly encouraging. "Hell, maybe you'll start a trend—'Last Day Before Execution: How to Spend It Right!'" He said it with mock cheerfulness that made the whole situation feel even more surreal.

Amy couldn't help but chuckle, the dark humor finally breaking through her fear. "Yeah, maybe I’ll write a guidebook," she said, her tone laced with irony. "'101 Things to Do Before You Die... Literally.'"

Jim grinned. "Now you're getting it. See? A little gallows humor goes a long way."

Bill nodded in agreement. "You’ve got one more day, Amy. Make it count in whatever way feels right to you. Tomorrow’s gonna come whether you’re ready or not, so why not enjoy the time you’ve got left?"

Amy took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll... try to find something to keep my mind off things."

Amy hesitated, her fingers lingering under her skirt as she listened to the unsettling yet oddly comforting advice from Bill and Jim. The surreal nature of her situation made everything feel distant, like a twisted dream she couldn’t wake up from.

"Good girl. Give yourself some pleasure with your hands, as long as you can still freely use them," Bill encouraged, his tone a mix of twisted mentorship and cruel amusement.

Amy bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. "But, if you want a suggestion, it's better if you don't come," Bill added with a sly grin.

"Uh?" Amy looked up, confused by his words.

"Try to stay on edge. It will make you more... responsive for what's in store for your body tomorrow," Jim chimed in, his voice laced with dark humor.

"But... it's difficult to remain on edge for sooo long!" Amy protested, her voice wavering as she tried to process the bizarre advice. "I mean... I'm not a slut who just thinks about cumming, but... here, if I start doing something, I generally wanna finish it."

"Think that your life will finish tomorrow," Bill said, his tone almost gentle, as if offering comforting advice.

"Well, you just have to learn to... frustrate some of your instincts, honey," Bill continued, almost as if he were offering sage wisdom.

Amy sighed, a mixture of anxiety and resignation washing over her. "Perhaps, I'll try. Thanks for the advice, I guess," she muttered, her fingers twitching slightly as she contemplated the strange suggestion.

"Okay, okay, I'll try masturbating without cumming... as long as I can," she added, her voice filled with a mix of determination and uncertainty.

"Perhaps do you want some incentive not to cum?" Bill asked, his eyes gleaming with twisted amusement.

"Yeah, I think she needs it," Jim chimed in, clearly relishing the idea.

"If we notice that you have an orgasm, we will... I dunno... what ELSE could we do to a girl we must crucify?" Jim mused, his tone playful but with a dark edge.

"Uhm... maybe... yeah, hear this, if she cums today, we shall nail her labia to the vertical beam. She'll be crucified with her slutty pussy obscenely and painfully spread apart! For all to see her inner pink!" Bill suggested to Jim with a sinister grin.

"That's a good idea!" Jim agreed, nodding, clearly enjoying the twisted game they were playing.

"Hey, but... shouldn't you adhere to the codes in the execution notice? Like the F35 before for Caitlin?" Amy asked, her voice trembling.

"Sweetheart, there's a code for anything. Even for nailing your fuck-flaps to the stipe to spread open your fuck-hole," Bill replied, his tone darkly playful.

"And we, as your executioners, can choose to add as many torture-codes we want to your execution warrant," Jim added, his voice dripping with dark humor.

Amy tried to picture herself like that, crucified, with her intimate flower in full view, her petals torn and nailed to her own cross, her love canal fully exposed, her most private flesh leaking girly juice. The horrific vision, with some twisted eroticism in it, was enough to... damn, take her close to that orgasm that now she has to avoid at all costs!

"Gulp, I'll do my best not to climax then!" Amy replied, her voice trembling with both fear and determination.

The stakes had been raised, and the surreal, nightmarish logic of her situation twisted further into dark absurdity. Amy's heart raced as continued to move her hand under her skirt, trying to focus on anything but the forbidden pleasure that now felt like a dangerous trap...

Zephirantes · Aug 16, 2024

The thought of being crucified with her most intimate parts painfully displayed was enough to make Amy’s heart race. She felt a sick thrill at the idea, a twisted blend of fear and arousal that left her shaking.

Jim gave her a pat on the back. "That's the spirit, Amy. Go on, finger yourself. Keep yourself on edge, and you'll make tomorrow's show even more... spectacular."

Bill chuckled darkly. "Just think of it as... practice. You're getting yourself ready for the big day. Stay on the brink, but don't fall over the edge, darling. Tomorrow's going to be a day to remember."

Amy nodded, her resolve firming. "Yeah, I'll try. I mean, it's not like I have many alternatives, right? You're my executioners, you decide everythin' for me..." she said, forcing a weak smile despite the turmoil inside her.

"That's right, girl. And who knows, maybe you'll even enjoy the anticipation," Jim added, his tone almost teasing.

"Or at least, you'll enjoy not having your pussy lips nailed to the cross," Bill quipped with a wicked grin.

Amy took a deep breath, her mind racing as she tried to focus on anything but the growing pressure inside her. "Yeah, I'll definitely try to avoid that," she said with a nervous laugh, her fingers reluctantly reaching her pussy under the skirt, determined to find the difficult balance that will keep her excited... but not so much as to come publicly!

Amy glanced around, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She could see the other girls, naked and terrified, awaiting their own horrific fates. She felt so embarrassed masturbating in public, but... she noticed that the bystanders seemed more interested in the naked girls destined for crucifixion rather than in her.

"Yeah, that's reasonable. It's their time on stage. Mine will come tomorrow," she thought to herself, trying to find some solace in the twisted logic.

As she touched herself, trying to find some semblance of pleasure amidst the chaos, she felt a strange detachment. It was as if her mind was trying to protect her from fully grasping the horror of what was happening. But even in her numbness, there was a flicker of fear, a small voice inside her reminding her that tomorrow, she would be in the same position as the girls she now watched.

Jim, always the professional, approached one of the waiting girls—a pretty nude blonde, just like Amy, who was visibly trembling with fear. He put his arm on her shoulder, his touch both firm and strangely gentle, guiding her toward the cross that would soon become her final resting place. The blonde looked at him with wide, terrified eyes, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she realized that her time had come.

"Come on, sweetheart. It’s your turn," Jim said, his voice almost soothing as he led her to the wooden beam. "No need to be scared; not too much, at least, we’ll take good care of you."

The blonde, her voice barely a whisper, replied, "I don’t want to die... please, there must be some mistake..."

Jim shook his head with a sympathetic smile. "No mistake, darling. But don’t worry, we’ll make sure you’re comfortable... or as comfortable as you can be."

Amy watched the exchange, her heart aching with a mixture of empathy and dread. The surreal, dream-like logic of the situation made it all feel like a twisted performance, with each girl playing her part in a macabre play. Well, more nightmare-like than dream-like...

As Jim and Bill prepared to nail the blonde to the cross, Amy couldn’t help but feel a strange kinship with her. They were all trapped in this horrific reality, forced to confront their mortality in the most brutal way possible.

The blonde was laid on the cross, her body trembling as Jim positioned her arms. "Just relax, sweetie. The more you struggle, the worse it’ll be," he advised, his tone almost fatherly.

Bill lined up the first nail, his eyes meeting the blonde’s for a brief moment. "You’ll do fine, darling. Just a little sting, and then it’s over," he said, his voice calm and almost reassuring.

The hammer came down, and the blonde let out a scream as the nail pierced her wrist, pinning her to the wood. Amy watched in horror, knowing that tomorrow, it would be her turn to feel that same pain, that same helplessness.

"Hang in there, sweetie. You’re doing great," Jim encouraged as he moved to her other arm, preparing to drive the next nail.

Amy’s heart pounded in her chest as she continued to touch herself, trying to distract herself from the reality of what was happening. But the fear and dread were too strong, and she knew that no amount of pleasure could truly numb the terror she felt.

As the final nail was driven into the blonde’s feet, securing her to the cross, Amy felt a tear slip down her cheek. "Tomorrow... tomorrow it’s my turn," she whispered to herself, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Bill stepped back, admiring their work as Jim hoisted up the cross and the blonde on it, her body writhing in pain as she was left to hang in agony. "Well done, darling. You’re quite the sight," Jim said with a nod of approval. "Conventional, but very pretty."

Amy’s fingers stilled, the weight of reality crashing down on her. She knew that no matter how much she tried to distract herself, there was no escaping what was to come. Tomorrow, she would be up there too, her body stretched out on the cross, her life slowly slipping away as the crowd observed everything in morbid fascination...

Zephirantes · Aug 16, 2024

Amy did her best to follow the twisted advice given by Jim and Bill, keeping herself on edge while they continued their grim work.

She watched in a surreal daze as they crucified three more girls—another blonde, a brunette, and a black girl with dreadlocks—each one screaming as the steel spikes pierced their flesh and pinned them to their wooden crosses. All the while, Amy’s hands moved under her skirt, trying to balance between pleasure and restraint.

She felt a pang of guilt as she found herself deriving some satisfaction while witnessing the others' brutal punishments. But Jim, ever the professional executioner, reassured her.

"Don't worry. You're to be executed too, like them. Just not today. It's like... you know..." Jim started, with a grin.

"... like you paid the ticket for a show." Bill concluded with a dark chuckle. "You have pawned your life to pay for access to this spectacle of death. Today you have earned yourself the right to enjoy their performances as you see fit."

It was hard work crucifying all those girls, and by noon, the two men were tired and in need of food and some beverages.

"We're gonna go to the restaurant. You coming?" Jim asked, wiping the sweat from his brow with a casual grin.

"Huh? What?" Amy blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected invitation. "No, I didn't come," she answered, confused and scared.

"No, I wasn't talking 'bout your pussy-fingering, sweetheart. I meant, do you wanna come with us, to the restaurant?" Jim clarified, amused by her response.

Amy was surprised by the question and relieved she wasn’t being accused of cumming... she was in no hurry to feel the nasty nails piercing her vaginal lips!

"Well, it's not like you can stay here with no food and nothing to drink..." Bill explained, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Amy glanced around, still processing the bizarre situation. "But, the other girls..." she started, her voice tinged with concern as she looked at the crucified figures writhing in agony.

"Oh, they have to suffer. But not you, not today," Jim replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if the suffering around them was just a minor inconvenience.

"Besides, we plan to give 'em some water anyway. We'll buy some bottles on the road. It's a bit against regulation, but you know..." Bill added with a smirk.

"Your good heart?" Amy asked, her tone laced with dark humor.

"Precisely!" Bill nodded with mock sincerity, clearly enjoying the twisted joke.

"I told you before: you're not as cruel and efferate as you want others to believe," Amy said, her tone almost teasing as she glanced at them.

"Think what you will. This is a free country. Or at least, it was before we ran out of planetary resources a decade ago and started culling some of the population," Jim mused, almost philosophically.

"Consider, however, that preventing you girls from becoming dehydrated once you're crucified... well, it will lengthen your painful experience on the cross. So, you still feel like saying we wouldn't be cruel and heinous, huh?"

"Efferate," Amy corrected him with a small grin.

"What?"

"I said 'cruel and efferate,'" repeated Amy, feeling wicked and, well, reckless in teasing her own torturers like that!

"I didn't even know that was in the vocabulary," Bill chuckled, not seeming irritated at all.

"So, do you come with us?" Jim asked again, his voice light and inviting, as if they were just a group of old friends heading out for a casual lunch.

Amy hesitated for a moment, the surreal nature of the situation pressing down on her. She looked at her fingers, still wet from her own vaginal juices.

"But, can I leave this hill? I mean, I should be executed sooner or later, and this is the execution ground. If I leave..."

"Sure you can. As long as you're with us, two registered executioners, and we guarantee that you left with our full consent, you're not breakin' any laws," Jim reassured her with a grin.

"This is all very reassuring, really," Amy muttered, her mind still reeling from the absurdity of the situation.

"Basically, now it's like the two of us are your—how should I say—your legal guardians. Kind of like you were our 'daughter', that is," Bill said, his tone almost paternal.

"Happy?" asked Jim with a good-natured smile on his face.

"Great. Always dreamed of having those who will execute me as 'parents'," Amy responded, her sarcasm dripping.

"Because you were a bad daughter!" laughed Bill.

"Well, at the very least, I can call you 'daddy' then," Amy quipped, the dark humor helping to keep her grounded in the bizarre reality.

"We can't deny anything to a girl we're going to strip and nail to the cross tomorrow," Bill chuckled.

"Well, why not? It's not every day that a girl has the privilege to have lunch with her two executioners," Amy finally answered, forcing a weak smile as she tried to push the horror of her impending fate to the back of her mind.

"Or, said even better... with her two new 'daddies,'" Jim added with a wink.

"That’s the spirit! A condemned girl with a sense of humor, I like it!" Jim said with a hearty laugh as he patted her on the back. "Come on, we’ll have a nice meal, and who knows, maybe you’ll get some inspiration for how to spend your last few hours tomorrow."

As they walked away from the execution site, Amy couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation pressing down on her even more heavily. The screams of the crucified girls faded into the background, replaced by the casual chatter of her executioners as they discussed what they might order for lunch.

"I’m thinking steak today, what about you, Bill?" Jim asked, his tone cheerful and completely detached from the horrific scene they had just left behind.

"Steak sounds good. Maybe with a side of mashed potatoes. Gotta keep our strength up for the afternoon shift," Bill replied with a grin, as if they were just discussing an ordinary day at work. "Crucifying girls is so tiring!"

Amy, walking between them, felt a surreal detachment herself, as if she were watching the whole scene from outside her body. "I’ll just have a salad," she said quietly, her mind still reeling from the absurdity of it all.

"A salad? Can’t let yourself go on your last day, right?" Jim joked, nudging her playfully. "Well, I guess you gotta watch your figure, huh?"

"Stay sure, many people will watch in the morrow, especially when your tits and sex will be exposed," Bill added, grinning.

Amy forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to her own ears. "Yeah, wouldn’t want to ruin my final performance," she said, trying to keep up with the dark humor that seemed to be the only thing keeping her sane.

Marcus's Diner was waiting for them, like two old, regular customers.

As they reached the restaurant, the contrast between the normalcy of the setting and the nightmare reality of Crucifixion Hill felt like a punch to the gut. Amy couldn’t help but wonder how the world outside could just keep turning while she and the other girls were facing such a brutal end.

But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the strange camaraderie she had somehow developed with her executioners.

If she had to face her death, she might as well make the most of the time she had left, even if that meant sharing a meal with the men who would end her life tomorrow. Her newfound 'daddies.'

Who, apart from this small, negligible detail that they will kill her in excruciating torment, seem, moreover, to be two very respectable, nice, and easygoing people.

It is said that evil lurks in ordinary, banal people, who seen from the outside seem good and respectable. But isn't it that perhaps the opposite is also true? Among the cruelest people, there is still something kind and affable hidden deep inside?

"Hi Marcus, a steak for me, medium rare," Jim ordered casually, as if it were any other day.

"Rare for me," Bill added, leaning back in his chair.

"And for the pretty lady with you?" Marcus asked, glancing at Amy with a polite smile.

"She's... our long lost 'daughter' in a way," Jim explained with a wink.

"The prodigal 'daughter' coming back," added Bill, laughing with gusto.

"Daughter? I didn't know that you two..." Marcus started, raising an eyebrow.

"No, not what you're surely imagining," Bill clarified.

"Actually, We have to do some nasty, horrific things to this pretty morsel here. Death penalty and stuff, you know. But only tomorrow: we're too busy today, unfortunately," Jim added with a casual wave of his hand.

"So, for now, we are something like her guardians, and, so, she is more or less like our 'daughter'," Bill concluded with a smirk. "In a way, at least."
"I see," Marcus replied, nodding as if it all made perfect sense. "You're lucky, girl. Bill and Jim here are the best executioners I’ve ever seen."
He paused, than added, with emphasis: "A pair of very kind, fine lads. They will treat you with respect... at least, as much as possible given your predicament. You'll be in good hands tomorrow, when they will torture and execute you."

"O-Okay..." Amy stammered, still grappling with the surreal reality of it all.

"Your order, dear lady?" Marcus asked, turning his attention back to Amy.

Amy hesitated for a moment, the surreal nature of the situation once again pressing down on her. "I'll have a salad," she said quietly, her mind still trying to process the bizarre reality of her circumstances. "With some roasted potatoes. I like 'em."

"A salad and the roasted potatoes for the doomed lady, then. Coming right up," Marcus said, jotting down the order without missing a beat.

thehangingtree · Aug 16, 2024

Zephirantes said:
The thought of being crucified with her most intimate parts painfully displayed was enough to make Amy’s heart race. She felt a sick thrill at the idea, a twisted blend of fear and arousal that left her shaking.

Jim gave her a pat on the back. "That's the spirit, Amy. Go on, finger yourself. Keep yourself on edge, and you'll make tomorrow's show even more... spectacular."

Bill chuckled darkly. "Just think of it as... practice. You're getting yourself ready for the big day. Stay on the brink, but don't fall over the edge, darling. Tomorrow's going to be a day to remember."

Amy nodded, her resolve firming. "Yeah, I'll try. I mean, it's not like I have many alternatives, right? You're my executioners, you decide everythin' for me..." she said, forcing a weak smile despite the turmoil inside her.

"That's right, girl. And who knows, maybe you'll even enjoy the anticipation," Jim added, his tone almost teasing.

"Or at least, you'll enjoy not having your pussy lips nailed to the cross," Bill quipped with a wicked grin.

Amy took a deep breath, her mind racing as she tried to focus on anything but the growing pressure inside her. "Yeah, I'll definitely try to avoid that," she said with a nervous laugh, her fingers reluctantly reaching her pussy under the skirt, determined to find the difficult balance that will keep her excited... but not so much as to come publicly!

Amy glanced around, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She could see the other girls, naked and terrified, awaiting their own horrific fates. She felt so embarrassed masturbating in public, but... she noticed that the bystanders seemed more interested in the naked girls destined for crucifixion rather than in her.

"Yeah, that's reasonable. It's their time on stage. Mine will come tomorrow," she thought to herself, trying to find some solace in the twisted logic.

As she touched herself, trying to find some semblance of pleasure amidst the chaos, she felt a strange detachment. It was as if her mind was trying to protect her from fully grasping the horror of what was happening. But even in her numbness, there was a flicker of fear, a small voice inside her reminding her that tomorrow, she would be in the same position as the girls she now watched.

Jim, always the professional, approached one of the waiting girls—a pretty nude blonde, just like Amy, who was visibly trembling with fear. He put his arm on her shoulder, his touch both firm and strangely gentle, guiding her toward the cross that would soon become her final resting place. The blonde looked at him with wide, terrified eyes, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she realized that her time had come.

"Come on, sweetheart. It’s your turn," Jim said, his voice almost soothing as he led her to the wooden beam. "No need to be scared; not too much, at least, we’ll take good care of you."

The blonde, her voice barely a whisper, replied, "I don’t want to die... please, there must be some mistake..."

Jim shook his head with a sympathetic smile. "No mistake, darling. But don’t worry, we’ll make sure you’re comfortable... or as comfortable as you can be."

Amy watched the exchange, her heart aching with a mixture of empathy and dread. The surreal, dream-like logic of the situation made it all feel like a twisted performance, with each girl playing her part in a macabre play. Well, more nightmare-like than dream-like...

As Jim and Bill prepared to nail the blonde to the cross, Amy couldn’t help but feel a strange kinship with her. They were all trapped in this horrific reality, forced to confront their mortality in the most brutal way possible.

The blonde was laid on the cross, her body trembling as Jim positioned her arms. "Just relax, sweetie. The more you struggle, the worse it’ll be," he advised, his tone almost fatherly.

Bill lined up the first nail, his eyes meeting the blonde’s for a brief moment. "You’ll do fine, darling. Just a little sting, and then it’s over," he said, his voice calm and almost reassuring.

The hammer came down, and the blonde let out a scream as the nail pierced her wrist, pinning her to the wood. Amy watched in horror, knowing that tomorrow, it would be her turn to feel that same pain, that same helplessness.

"Hang in there, sweetie. You’re doing great," Jim encouraged as he moved to her other arm, preparing to drive the next nail.

Amy’s heart pounded in her chest as she continued to touch herself, trying to distract herself from the reality of what was happening. But the fear and dread were too strong, and she knew that no amount of pleasure could truly numb the terror she felt.

As the final nail was driven into the blonde’s feet, securing her to the cross, Amy felt a tear slip down her cheek. "Tomorrow... tomorrow it’s my turn," she whispered to herself, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Bill stepped back, admiring their work as Jim hoisted up the cross and the blonde on it, her body writhing in pain as she was left to hang in agony. "Well done, darling. You’re quite the sight," Jim said with a nod of approval. "Conventional, but very pretty."

Amy’s fingers stilled, the weight of reality crashing down on her. She knew that no matter how much she tried to distract herself, there was no escaping what was to come. Tomorrow, she would be up there too, her body stretched out on the cross, her life slowly slipping away as the crowd observed everything in morbid fascination...

Excellent story. I just read what is up. Tree thinks... oh, never mind. I'll read whatever you post :rolleyes:

Zephirantes · Aug 16, 2024

"Not too soon, Marcus, give her some time to wash her hands," Jim added with a grin, clearly enjoying the situation.

"Jim!" Amy exclaimed, horrified as she understood immediately where this talk would lead them.

"You know, she spent the whole morning masturbating to her fellow executees, who were suffering and dying," Jim continued, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to discuss over lunch.

"You suggested I should finger my pussy! And to remain on the edge without cumming!" Amy replied, almost yelling, her face turning crimson as the whole restaurant turned to look at her. Realizing she had drawn attention to herself, she wished she could die on the spot out of sheer embarrassment. Which was funny as, well, she knew tomorrow she’d be executed.

"And you went on as we said, without too much of a fuss, honey," Bill added, not missing a beat, as if they were merely discussing a minor detail of their day.

Marcus, ever the professional, nodded in understanding. "I see... an uncommon, but not unheard of reaction. The restroom is the second door on the left, young lady, but..."

"Yes?" Amy asked, still flustered.

"...please, don't climax in the restroom. The other customers may need to use it," Marcus added with a straight face, though the corner of his mouth twitched as if he was suppressing a smile.

"Sure, sure, t-thanks," Amy mumbled, her face burning as she rushed to the restroom, doing everything she could to avoid the curious stares of the other diners who had overheard the conversation.

As Amy hurried away, Jim leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Thanks, Marcus. In fact, if you hadn't rushed her, I'm sure our young 'daughter' would have finished her finger-work and cummed all over the bathroom, where we wouldn't have been able to check on her."

"Just imagine, girl juice everywhere!" added Bill.

"In fact, it seems to me that you wanted to keep her... on her toes, so to speak," Marcus replied, his tone light but perceptive.

"Precisely. We enjoy the idea that she remains sexually excited like a bitch in heat, but frustrated until tomorrow, when we will execute her properly," Jim explained, his grin widening.

"You two gentlemen are real connoisseurs of executions, aren't you?" said a customer from a nearby table, raising his glass in a mock toast.

"Well, at least we try," Bill replied with a modest shrug, though his eyes gleamed with amusement.

As Amy washed her hands in the restroom, she couldn't help but reflect on how absurdly different the contexts of her embarrassment were. On a beach, being nearly naked in a bikini was acceptable, even expected. But here, in a restaurant, the thought of being even slightly underdressed filled her with deep mortification. Similarly, masturbating on Crucifixion Hill had seemed almost natural, given the circumstances, but the memory of it being discussed so casually at the dining table made her wish she could just hide.

"Oh well, I won't be able to hide anything when I'm gonna be crucified naked on the hill overlooking the town, alas," she muttered to herself with bitter irony as she dried her hands.

Meanwhile, back at the table, as Bill watched Amy's run for the restroom, he commented with a strange expression on his face, half amused, half saddened. "I'm really starting to like that lass," he admitted, as if surprised by his own feelings.

"Yeah, too bad we have to kill her," Jim replied, a touch of genuine regret in his voice.

"Well, it wouldn't be so funny and enjoyable to tease and talk with her if not for that: the fact that we all know how it will end. With us putting Amy on her cross, to die," Bill reflected, his voice tinged with a strange sort of affection.

"Yeah, I know. And still, I fear I'm gonna miss her when that happens," Jim admitted, sounding almost wistful.

"This is the drama of us executioners. Sometimes we get attached to our... clients. We should simply execute them and then forget about them, quickly moving on to another one... without even talking to them! Without treating them like people, but just like... things. Pieces of meat," Bill mused at first, his tone turning more serious as he progressed.

"Like your rare steak?" Jim joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Exactly," Bill replied with a chuckle, though there was a hint of melancholy behind it.

"We would probably finish our job much sooner if we behave as you said. And the government would appreciate us much more..." Jim added, nodding.

"Of course! We’ve never been so late as today," Bill agreed, shaking his head.

"But, as much as you enjoy saying these cynical things, you’d be the first one who couldn't behave like that," Jim pointed out, his tone gentle but firm. "Treat 'em like steaks, I mean."

"I know, I can't really be as cruel and efferate as I would like, just like that little girl said," Bill sighed, a small smile playing on his lips.

"True. But hell, the important thing is that we remain just cruel and efferate enough for our job," Jim reminded him, a sadistic grin on his face. "To torment and execute our clients as they deserve."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that." Bill replied, with a chuckle, though the weight of their task loomed heavy over their heads.
"In fact, we'll have to be cruel and efferate... quite a lot, with her," Jim said, maintaining an enigmatic face.

"What do you mean?" Bill asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know, when she wasn’t looking, I read Amy's execution notice, and she is in for some really excruc—" Jim began, but he quickly stopped when he noticed Amy returning from the restroom.

"Shhh, shut up, she's coming back," Bill warned, cutting Jim off mid-sentence.

"Okay," Jim muttered, quickly changing the subject as Amy rejoined them, still visibly upset.

As they waited for their food, the conversation between Jim, Bill, and Amy continued, filled with the same dark humor and strange camaraderie that had marked their interactions on the hill.

"So, any thoughts on what you’ll do before your big moment?" Jim asked, his tone light, as if discussing weekend plans.

Amy shrugged, trying to keep her voice steady. "I don't know... I guess I'll just try to keep calm and, well, maybe spend some time on my own. You know, before everything starts."

"It’s not like I have much time left to do anything," she added, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to push away the thoughts of what awaited her. Of what the two diners at her own table would soon do to her body.

"Some girls indeed like to have a bit of alone time before their execution. Helps them focus, clear their minds... or whatever else they want to do before we start," Bill said, nodding approvingly.

"However, I think it would be best for you to just follow our work on your, well, fellow executee today. You might learn somethin' more 'bout executions and, well..." Jim added, but couldn't finish his sentence before Amy interrupted him.

"Basically, you like my presence and you enjoy my company, right?" Amy asked brutally with a small, teasing smile.

"Having you around is... refreshing. I admit it, I like your attitude. Unusual in an executee," Jim admitted, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"You act like you're not scared of us, even though you know what we're gonna do to you," Bill observed, leaning forward, intrigued.

"It's not that I'm not scared, it's just..." Amy paused, searching for the right words.

"Go on: why don't you treat us with deference, your cruel and heinous executioners?" Jim prompted, his tone light but curious.

"I said 'efferate'," Amy corrected with a smirk.

"Efferate, effervescent, whatever," Jim quipped with a grin.

"Whatefferate!" Bill chimed in, laughing.

Amy chuckled along with them, feeling oddly at ease despite the morbid topic. "Probably I'm just too bubbling, too easygoing, too happy golucky —you name it— to care too much and treat you with deference," she explained. "It's just the way I am. I like personal connections, and... well, the guys who will put me down seem rather important figures in my life. In a sense, we are, or are gonna be, very close."

"It will be a very unidirectional relationship, however," Jim pointed out with a sardonic grin.

"Oh, please, you yourself don't believe this truly. Sure, you'll hurt my bare body, give me pain and death and whatever is required in my execution notice," she said, her tone almost playful, "but I've seen you get attached to your victims too. At the very least, we executees leave an impression on you."

Bill and Jim exchanged a look, their usual banter momentarily giving way to something more reflective.

"You're not wrong," Bill admitted, his tone softening. "Every girl we crucify, every last moment we share with them... it stays with us. We remember."

"For a while, at least. Don't be too sentimental," corrected Jim.

"Even if we pretend we don't," Bill added, a touch of sadness creeping into his voice. "But it’s our job, Amy. We can’t let it get to us too much."

Amy nodded, her expression more serious now. "I get it. It's a tough job. But, well, I appreciate that you’re human about it, even if you have to be... cruel and efferate."

Jim smirked, the playful glint returning to his eyes. "Well, we're still executioners, after all. And tomorrow, we'll be the best damn executioners you’ve ever seen."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Amy replied with a brave smile, even as her heart raced with the knowledge of what was to come.
"You see? This girl we just met a couple of hours ago pretends reading us like from an open book," Jim said, shaking his head with a grin.

"So she thinks at least," Bill added, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.

"She'll have a big surprise tomorrow," Jim continued, his tone dark but playful.

"We shall see," Amy replied, faking a courage and a self-confidence she didn't really possessed.
In fact, she considered that the strange duo might well surprise her tomorrow, in ways that are quite painful even to think about.

Amy, catching onto their banter, jumped in with a mischievous grin of her own. "You're my 'daddies', remember? As my legal guardians, you're the closest thing to being my parents. And a daughter knows her parents. I know you," she said confidently, trying to sound reassuring. To herself, mainly.

Jim chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, do you now? You think you've got us all figured out, huh?"

"Well, I’ve picked up a few things," Amy replied, shrugging nonchalantly, though her heart pounded in her chest. "You pretend to be all tough and cruel, and okay, you are. But deep down, you’ve got something of a soft spot, also."

"Human, huh? That’s a stretch," Bill said with a laugh, though there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. "But I’ll give you this, Amy—you’ve got guts. Not many girls would be chatting like this with the people who are about to crucify them."

"Well, it’s not like I have much choice, do I?" Amy replied, trying to keep her voice light. "And besides, I’d rather spend my last day getting to know my... executioners than wallowing in fear. You’re interesting guys, in a dark, twisted way."

"Interesting? Now there’s a compliment I didn’t expect," Jim said, grinning. "But don’t let that fool you into thinking showering us with compliments we will make tomorrow's tortures easier for you."

"Quite the contrary, in fact," specified Bill. "We’ve got a job to do, and it’s not going to be... pretty."

"I know that," Amy said quietly, her expression turning serious for a moment. "But at least I’ll face it knowing who you are. And maybe... just maybe, you’ll remember me too."

"Remember who?" joked Jim, getting a well-deserved tongue-lashing from Amy.

"Just remember to keep yourself on edge without cumming, sweetheart," Bill reminded her with a sly grin.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Amy muttered, trying to sound nonchalant, but the fear in her voice was unmistakable.

"You don’t want us to have to add those nails to your pretty pussy, do you?" Jim teased, though there was a slight edge to his voice that made Amy shiver.

Amy quirked an eyebrow, trying to deflect her unease with humor. "How do you know I've a 'pretty' pussy beneath my skirt and panties?"

Jim leaned in, his grin widening. "Call it a professional guess. Executioners have a sixth sense for these things, you know."

"Plus, you’ve got that confidence about you," Bill added, with a wink. "Only a girl who knows she’s got something pretty under there would be brave enough to tease her executioners."

Amy couldn’t help but laugh, despite the tension in the air. "You two really are something else. But you’ll just have to take my word for it—or wait until tomorrow to see for yourselves."

"Looking forward to it," Jim said, his tone light but with that ever-present undercurrent of dark humor. He could not deny that he wanted to see Amy's most intimate nudity soon.

"And besides, if you wanna go on calling us 'daddies', well, keep in mind that it cuts both ways, you see. I mean, a 'daddy' knows how good his daughter's vagina is!" Bill said, finally leaving that sassy little girl speechless.

Zephirantes · Aug 17, 2024

A hearty laugh broke the tension as their food arrived, the conversation shifting to something more mundane, though the underlying dread never truly left. The diner, with its normal, almost cozy atmosphere, seemed like a stark contrast to the brutal reality of what awaited Amy.

“Do you enjoy your meal?” Jim asked, cutting into his steak with the ease of a man who had done this countless times before. His tone was light, almost as if they were just friends sharing a casual lunch.

“Yeah, these potatoes are quite good. I like the rosemary they use to season them,” Amy replied, trying to keep her voice steady. The food was delicious, but every bite felt like lead in her stomach, weighed down by the knowledge of what tomorrow would bring.

“Never been here before. I should’ve come sooner,” she added, trying to make conversation despite the dark thoughts swirling in her mind.

“Well, better late than never,” Bill said with a grin as he savored his meal, the normalcy of the moment clashing with the gruesome reality that hung over them.

Suddenly, the relative calm of the diner was shattered by a voice from a nearby table. “Oh, but that’s… she is Amy! With two men,” the girl’s voice carried a note of malicious curiosity and thinly veiled hostility.

“I recognize them: they're Bill and Jim, the executioners of Crucifixion Hill,” another voice added, this one tinged with intrigue and morbid fascination.

Amy froze, her fork suspended halfway to her mouth as the realization hit her—they were being watched. The normalcy of their meal was a fragile façade, and it had just been shattered.

She turned and saw them: Karen, her old high school nemesis, and Beatrix, the ever-present sycophant who never seemed to have a thought of her own. Amy’s heart sank.

“Hey, Amy. What’re you doing here with them? Scheduling your appointment with the cross?” Karen called out, loud enough to draw the attention of the entire diner.

Amy forced a smile, though her heart raced in her chest. “You’re close, Karen. These two... gentlemen will do me tomorrow,” she replied, injecting as much nonchalance into her voice as she could muster. “They’ll nail my naked body to a cross. Fancy coming to see me suffer? I hear I might last a couple of days…”

Jim leaned back in his chair, his grin wide. “That’s right. We’re just giving our lovely ‘daughter’ here a last meal before her big day,” he said, his tone dripping with twisted humor.

Karen’s eyes widened with a mix of shock and intrigue. “I didn’t think they let girls out before their execution. And… what’s this about ‘daughter’?” she asked, her tone both curious and mocking.

“Special circumstances,” Bill chimed in, taking a sip of his drink. “We’re her legal guardians for the day. Making sure she’s well taken care of before tomorrow.”

“And she’s spending her last day with you two? The men who will enforce the capital punishment on her?” Karen’s voice was laced with disbelief and dark amusement.

Amy shrugged, playing along as best she could. “Well, it’s not like I have many other options, right?” She forced a laugh. “Might as well get to know the men who’ll be... crucifying me.”

The other diners exchanged glances, the atmosphere in the room shifting from idle curiosity to morbid fascination. Amy could feel their eyes on her, as if she were already a part of the macabre spectacle they were anticipating.

“You’d be surprised what you can do when you don’t have a choice,” Amy said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Karen’s smile turned cruel. “I look forward to seeing you squirm on that cross, Amy. I’ll make sure to savor every moment, especially when you’re laid bare for all to see,” she said, her words dripping with sadistic pleasure.

Amy met her gaze, her smile tight. “That’s how the cross works, Karen. I know I’ll be exposed for all to see—friends,” she paused deliberately, “and foes.”

Karen’s eyes gleamed with malice. “If there’s anything I can do to make your time on the cross more painful and humiliating, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll do my best—or rather, my worst.”

“Lucky me, my executioners do their best to keep my spirits up,” Amy shot back, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

“It’s all part of the job,” Bill said cheerfully, finishing off his drink. “We like to keep things light. Can’t have our clients going to their crosses all mopey and depressed.”

“Exactly! A smile doesn’t make the nails hurt less, but it might help the executee put up less of a fuss about it,” Jim added with a grin, clearly enjoying the morbid banter.

Amy forced another laugh, though it felt like it was tearing her apart inside. “Well, I’ll do my best to keep smiling when you kill me,” she said, unsure if she was trying to reassure herself or them.

“Anyway, Karen, Amy here has given a DP with two wooden sticks to a crucified girl this morning, so...” said Bill, “... if Amy's execution warrant requires that, you could do the same to her.”

“Sure, Mr. executioner...” Karen passed her tongue over her lips for added effect, “penetrating your 'daughter' 's holes with some wooden sticks has always been a goal of mine. I will push deep in your cervix and colon hard, girl.”

The rest of the diner buzzed with a mix of conversation and uneasy glances. Actually, all customers were interested in Amy's execution and her, well, sexual debasement.

Jim’s gaze shifted to Karen, his smile never faltering. “You’re welcome to come and watch tomorrow. Even participate, in case the crowd might have some role in Amy's punishment. I can see you and Amy have some… history.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Karen replied, her eyes gleaming. “It’s not every day you see a girl like Amy get what’s coming to her. And Amy... well, she’s always been fascinating, hasn’t she?”

Amy swallowed hard, her mind racing as she tried to push away the fear. She focused on the food in front of her, but it was impossible to ignore the reality of what was coming.

“I'll enjoy seeing your pussy twitch as you feel yourself slowly, slowly die on the cross,” Karen continued, her voice dripping with sadistic glee. “I'm sure you're one of those death-sluts that take carnal pleasure even in their demise...”

“Hey, don't call our dear 'daughter' here names...” Bill intervened, but there was little conviction in his tone, almost as if he found Karen’s words amusing.

Amy, refusing to let Karen have the last word, responded with a sharp edge. “Perhaps I am, Karen. But there’s nothing wrong with being a death-slut. A death-slut pays the ultimate price for her enjoyment; it's something to be respected. But you,” Amy’s voice was cold as ice, “you are, and will always remain, 'a Karen'.”

Karen’s face twisted into a scowl, but she quickly recovered, her smile as malicious as ever. “Say what you want. Tomorrow, I’ll enjoy watching your reaction to the horrors these two kind gentlemen have in store for you, Amy,” she said, her tone filled with venom. “You might be smiling now, but I’ve seen them at work. They won’t show you any mercy.”

Amy met her gaze with defiance, her heart pounding. “Nor do I expect it from them. But you see, Karen,” she paused, her voice steady, “I’m not having lunch with them because I expect favors. That’s how you think, but not me.”

Jim leaned in, his tone almost conspiratorial. “She’s a good ‘daughter,’ after all. Dutiful to the end.”

Amy nodded, but the pit in her stomach only grew deeper. Reality and nightmare blurred, and she wasn’t sure which was worse—the waiting or the knowing.

Bill leaned forward, his expression serious. “Just remember, Amy. Tomorrow’s your big day. Save that smile for the crowd—they’ll love you for it. Even Karen, maybe.”

Amy looked down at her plate, her appetite gone. “I’ll try,” she whispered, the weight of her fate pressing down on her like a heavy blanket.

"We'll be again at Crucifixion Hill in the afternoon, Karen," said Jim, to Amy's desperation.

"You and your friend can come watch and entertain Amy there: you know, she seems a bit anxious about her death penalty, I'm sure you two can help her mood," he added with a grin as he watched Amy put her hands on her face.

Zephirantes · Aug 17, 2024

“I was thinking that you two could, well, play with Amy as she looks at this afternoon's executions on the Hill,” Bill suggested, his tone casual yet laced with dark intentions.

“Play?” Karen asked, her curiosity piqued. There was a glint in her eye as she leaned forward, eager to hear more.

“Sure. We suggested she should masturbate as she watches her fellow executees being crucified,” Jim explained with a smirk, his voice light as if discussing something as ordinary as a daily routine.

“And she surely said ‘yes’ to that suggestion,” Karen responded with a twisted smile, her tone dripping with mock innocence. She glanced at Amy, who shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to maintain a brave face.

"A death-slut indeed," said Beatrix, repeating her friend's previous statement. "Taking pleasure watching others dying... and perhaps imagining herself in their place too."

"Oh, tomorrow the death-slut here is gonna be in their place for real, to suffer and snuff it," added Karen, with disgust. "No imagination will be needed, then. The whole town will watch her naked agony."

“Point is, masturbating alone for so long… might be boring. You could help her,” Bill continued, his eyes gleaming with perverse delight. His words hung in the air like a dark promise.

“Besides, you may want to know that we put a caveat there: she has to remain on the edge, without cumming, otherwise...” Jim added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as if revealing a delicious secret.

Karen’s smile widened, a sadistic gleam in her eye. “Otherwise?” she prompted, her voice filled with eager anticipation.

“Otherwise tomorrow, after we have crucified her, we will also spread her pussy lips wide open and nail her labia to the wood, for maximum… vaginal opening,” Bill said, his tone almost too casual for the horrific image his words conjured.

Karen’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Oh, such a splendid idea!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together as if she had just heard the most wonderful news.

Amy’s heart raced, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to process the horror of what was being planned for her. The thought of having her most intimate parts brutally nailed to the cross made her shiver with fear again.

“We will help gladly to… stimulate Amy here. With pleasure,” Karen continued, her voice taking on a sickly sweet tone as she looked directly at Amy, her gaze filled with malicious intent.

"Yeah, we can go to the sex shop and buy some nasty toys," said Beatrix in an unusual surge of initiative, autonomous from Karen. It is no accident that it concerns sex, the one area in which Beatrix seems to have something of her own to say, considered Amy.

Amy’s face flushed with a mix of fear and embarrassment, but she forced herself to meet Karen’s gaze with as much defiance as she could muster. “You'll do what you can to make me cum, don't you?,” she spat, though her voice trembled.

“Yes. Today we will give you orgasms, and thus, tomorrow," Karen sneered, her words a cruel taunt as she leaned in closer to Amy, savoring her fear, "be prepared to say goodbye to your labia, death-slut.”

"You'll lose your nether lips, death-slut," repeated Beatrix.

"It's a deal, then. Amy, go with them to buy some toys, and then," said Bill, "come back at Crucifixion Hill. Let the two helpful ladies here work on your intimate parts as they fancy..."

"Gulp! Not just my... my vag?" said Amy, unpleasantly surprised.

"No, they are so eager that they might wanna do something interesting to your nipples and asshole too, no need to ban those places," clarified Bill with a cruel grin. "They have 'carte blanche' to stimulate that pretty body of yours."

“You should be grateful, Amy,” Jim chimed in, his tone suddenly shifting to one of false sympathy. “Not everyone gets this kind of attention before their execution. Consider it... a special treatment.”

Amy bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. She was terrified, humiliated, and angry all at once, but she refused to give Karen and the others the satisfaction of seeing her break down.

“You know, if you’re really lucky,” Bill added with a grin, “maybe you’ll find some enjoyment in it too. After all, there’s a thin line between pleasure and pain.”

Amy shuddered, but she forced herself to speak. “I won’t give you the satisfaction of breaking me. Do your worst,” she said to Karen, her voice trembling but defiant.

Karen chuckled darkly. “Oh, we will, Amy. We will. But who knows? Maybe by the end of it, you’ll be begging us to nail your cunt-lips to that cross.”

“That’s the spirit, Karen,” Jim said approvingly. “Make sure Amy knows exactly what she’s in for. It’s all about the anticipation.”

“And the build-up,” Bill added, his grin widening as he watched Amy squirm in her seat. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us, Amy. You might as well try to enjoy it.”

Amy clenched her fists under the table, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep her composure. “I can handle this,” she whispered to herself, though the words felt hollow even as she spoke them.

Karen’s smile was wicked as she reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against Amy’s arm. “We’ll see about that, darling. Let’s see how long you can keep that bravado,” she said, her voice dripping with malice.

“Come on, Amy. We’ll be heading back to Crucifixion Hill soon,” Jim said, standing up from the table and throwing some bills onto the counter to cover the meal.

"We need also some bottled water for the other crucified girls. Don't want them to dehydrate too soon," added Bill.

Amy swallowed hard, knowing that the worst was yet to come. She stood up on unsteady legs, trying to steel herself for whatever horrors awaited her on that hill. “Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

As they exited the diner, the bright sunlight outside felt like an alien force, casting sharp shadows that seemed to mock the gravity of her situation. Karen and Beatrix walked beside Amy, heading to 'Pussy Frenzy', a sex shop in town dedicated to, well, stimulation of the female parts. Their demeanor more akin to schoolgirls heading to a fun event than accomplices in a grotesque ritual.

Jim and Bill slowly went back to Crucifixion Hill, their steps confident, almost jaunty, as if they were heading back to an ordinary workday. The contrast between their casual attitudes and the brutal reality of their profession was unsettling to normal people, but, hey, who still is in this day and age?

soumise · Aug 22, 2024

What a beautiful crux story! Your writing is rich and strange and opens my imagination in so many ways. You make me to discover sexuel excitement on so many things I never have thought before

Zephirantes · Aug 22, 2024

soumise said:
What a beautiful crux story! Your writing is rich and strange and opens my imagination in so many ways. You make me to discover sexuel excitement on so many things I never have thought before

Thank you, Soumise.

It's a pleasure to hear these things from a reader... that my story has stimulated new fantasies in someone who didn't have them before, I mean.
That's no small compliment at all, thank you again, really.
Un baiser sincère pour avoir vraiment illuminé ma journée.

Personally, for as long as I can remember sexual interests, I have always found the idea of crucifixion, with its forced abandonment to the elements and the touch of others, as very stimulating.
But one of the stimulating things about crucifixion, again on the level of mere erotic fantasy, is that the victim's body is helpless and stretched to the utmost: like a canvas on a frame.
In short, a crucified body can also be the beginning of a long series of new erotic tortures, like a canvas in the hands of a painter.

Zephirantes

Magistrate

Zephirantes

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Zephirantes

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Bad Boris

Magistrate

Zephirantes

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Zephirantes

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thecuriousone

Governor

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Zephirantes

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Zephirantes

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thehangingtree

Proconsul

Zephirantes

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Zephirantes

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soumise

Spectator

Zephirantes

Magistrate

«Oh no, they have delayed my execution!» [crucifixion, various tortures, semi-cons., reluctant]