evilmonk
Guard
Seems that she just started another blog:
is this the end of power of money?. Thank you for keeping postingMy legs gave out, and I hung from my outstretched arms for a while, my head sagging, eyes closed. It felt almost peaceful, and the pain in most of my body left as I relaxed. It was only the tendons, bones and muscles of my arms and hands that were screaming out in agony. After a while, I could not ignore them any more and pressed back down with one foot on the narrow foothold. Lifting up, I could feel the relief in my arms, but sweat had trickled down my legs and made my feet slippery. As my foot slid off the support, I jerked back down and yanked my arms once again. I screamed, and the empty air in the meadow seemed to absorb the scream and cast it aside as if it had no meaning.
It was dark; the moon had not risen. There were some lights scattered in the valley in front of me. I imagined homes where people were sitting down to watch TV, children being put to bed, and eventually the adults making love and then falling asleep in each others arms. All this while I hung on a wooden cross above them, dangling and struggling, in horrible pain that slowly increased as my body lost strength and my mind lost tolerance.
I smelled urine. It was a strong smell, and I realized it came from me. The inside of my legs must be covered in it. In fact, I felt the rumblings of a bowel movement inside my intestines. I yelled out for help, asking that anyone that could hear me would come and help. It was no use. I was in a beautiful and isolated area. I began to believe that I might die here.
Diarrhea struck me all at once. The pressure built and then pushed out as my bowels let loose in a massive mix of feces, liquid and gas. The smell was sickening, and the feces covered the back of my legs and trickled down slowly. I had lost both bladder and bowel control now, I knew my body was really suffering up here.
Once again, I let my feet slip off the tilted support and simply hung by my arms. The pain had increased, but there was little I could do. I could no longer support myself.
A wolf came by sometime late that night. It sniffed around, and even tried to nip a bit. I was too high up for it, though it came close. Later, I heard howling.
The SUV came bumping back up the hill sometime later. It's headlights shown in the darkness from quite some ways. When it arrived the headlights covered the whole clearing, including me up on the wooden horror that held me.
I would have screamed at the sadist as he climbed out of the vehicle, but my voice had cracked and basically I could only manage a hoarse whisper. There was something wrong with me, I could tell. It wasn't just the strain from hanging from the cross, it was something worse. The sadist headed over to me with a ladder which he propped against the cross. The video guy was taping of course, the whole exchange.
The sadist got up to my head and took out a bottle. Water. Oh, I suddenly realized what I needed, what was wrong with me. I was dehydrated from no water and the diarrhea. He held the bottle to my mouth and I began gulping, the water flooding my mouth and splashing over my neck, breasts and stomach. I drank the whole bottle, and began to feel a little better. Better enough to begin concentrating on the pain in my back and the lack of feeling in my hands. I couldn't move my fingers.
Giving her water to rehydrate her allowed me to get close to her suffering. Seeing her face close up as she struggled with her situation, the pain, the desire, the fear, the hopelessness that had set in-- it gave me an erection immediately. She was so lovely in her agony.
"Six more hours dear," the sadist said quietly. He actually nuzzled my neck, kissing me slightly, as he spoke. "You can quit now, but all that pain, all that agony, will be for nothing. Keep going, six more hours... that's all..."
I didn't say anything, just hung for a while before struggling up and then falling back down. I let out a loud moan as the weight ripped my shoulders once again.
"Let's give you a little more support, shall we?" The sadist said, and I looked at him with a mixture of hope and fear. I had no idea what he was going to do to me. He wasn't in the business of making girls more comfortable.
The video kept going as he trudged to the SUV and got out some sort of wooden board. He came back to the cross, climbed one rung of the ladder and then said "lift yourself up a bit. I am going to give you a seat to carry some of your weight."
I pushed, raising myself up a bit. The sadist took the short board and slipped it between my legs, pushing it up snugly against my pussy. It fit in another notch of the cross, and he pounded in an additional nail to help keep it in place. He climbed down and removed the ladder. The video guy zoomed in as I lowered my weight onto the 2x4 that stuck out from the cross about a foot.
Thing was, the 2x4 was positioned vertically, the thin side pushing up into my pussy. It hurt. Not as bad as my arms and wrists and back (I don't think anything could have hurt more at that point), but the edges were sharp and dug into my soft flesh. Nevertheless I sat down on it, and breathed a huge sigh.
It didn't take long for me to realize the sedile he had provided was basically adding a wooden pony ride to my crucifixion. After that long on the cross, I was happy for it. It hurt, and after a while, it ached and hurt a lot. But it was at least a choice. It relieved the weight on my shoulders and back, and the cramping subsided some. I could alternate the pain, moving it back and forth, choosing which part of my body would bear the agony at any given time.
The sunrise was beautiful. It flooded from behind me, lighting up the whole meadow and valley below. The hills were green, and a slight breeze pushed past my sweaty flesh and helped dry it.
"How.. much... longer..." I croaked.
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"2 hours, dear," the sadist had his cock out again, and the video guy was going to town examining every aspect of my stretched and agonized body. He zoomed in on my ass cheeks where they split on each side of the cross upright beam, on my pussy where it pressed and split on the wood board, on my breasts that wobbled and heaved as I breathed with difficulty, on my face and the stains of hours of tears, on my straggled hair, on my purple hands that appeared to be in a permanently curled, claw like shape.
The beauty of the morning meant little to me, hanging from the cross. It had been something like 21 hours since I had been tied to it. Memory of what my life was like before had slipped away. It seemed like I was there simply waiting to die, and that in a couple of hours my death would come and relieve me of the pain. My entire body shook, none of the muscles worked. I simply waited, waited for something to happen.
It finally did. The two of them carefully climbed up and untied me. When the ropes gave way, I screamed once again. My arms had been in a raised position for so long that all the muscles cramped as they moved down. Returning blood flow created pain in places that had long since gone numb. Laying stretched out on the ground, I vomited, getting it over me, though all I had to vomit was the water I had received a few hours earlier.
I would have loved to leave her there for another day, two days, three... whatever it took until her body gave out and she succumbed. But then, she really was beautiful and there was money to be made. She would be back, I could tell. Anyone that suffered this much for the money... she would be back.
I lay sobbing on the ground as several buckets of water were thrown over me, washing off the vomit, the feces and urine that covered my body. I was then picked up off the ground, unable to walk, and thrown into the back of the SUV. The trip down the hillside was bumpy, but I hardly noticed. My whole body was wracked in pain from blood which was now flowing back into numb spots, and muscles learning to settle back into place.
They helped me walk into the barn, where they sat me on a wooden chair and gave me a bottle of water and a granola bar. When I was ready for the ride back, the video guy got his camera again, and started taping as the sadist hogtied me.
"What are you doing?" I croaked.
"You have an hour left, babe. We are driving back, but you get to ride in the back, bound and gagged like the pain slut you are," he was pulling my legs back and tying them to my wrists so I was bent backward. "An hour left. When we get back to the studio, you get paid for the whore you are."
I opened my mouth to protest, but instead of sound, my mouth was filled with dirty rags. Duct tape quickly secured them inside and all I could do was moan as they picked me up and threw me in the back of the van.
When I was finally released and paid, they counted cash out for me. Hundreds. 80 of them. My day hanging in agony in the middle of the forest was still with me, but I could feel it fading. The stack of 80 bills in my hand felt thick, and I knew I was set for the next two or three months. It felt good.
As I slowly walked to my car, the sadist came with me, and as I slid gingerly into the driver's seat, he leaned down and said, "So babe... you did good. You want to come back for another scene sometime, when you get low on money? We can think of something unique and fun for you."
I looked at him with a steel face, about ready to curse and damn him to hell. Instead, I surprised myself and said, "Yeah. Maybe. But I want more money."
The sadist laughed, straightened up and said, "You'll be back. We will arrange something."
Posted by Polly Plummer at 12:24 PM (Monday, October 4, 2010)