Zephirantes
Magistrate
My previous story "The Man with the Van" started in medias res, so to speak.
You can find it here: https://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/the-man-with-the-van-female-crucifixion-reluctant.11367/
So now I've created a prequel to it.
This prequel is fully stand alone, as it depicts Susan sentencing and crucifixion.
If the response is good, I might consider creating a sequel too...
Prequel to "The Man with the Van"
It was a blistering summer day, and the air inside the courtroom was stifling. The spectators fanned themselves, their faces glistening with sweat as they awaited the verdict. The judge, notorious for his harsh sentences, sat sternly on the bench, his eyes fixed on the trembling young woman standing before him.
"Damn, it’s so warm today! And in this courtroom too!" one of the spectators whispered, wiping his brow.
"Yeah, but the hangin' judge is in session. I'm so curious to hear what he has in store for this little minx here..." another replied, nodding towards Susan.
"Susan? That cute gal with the nipples perking through the fabric of her top?" the first man asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Precisely!"
Susan stood there, her small breasts heaving with each nervous breath, her eyes wide with fear. Her nipples were indeed visible through her thin top, a testament to the cool drafts that sporadically offered some relief from the oppressive heat.
"She just stole a perfume, I think..." one of the men commented, shaking his head.
"Well, here that may be just enough for the electric chair!" the other replied with a grim chuckle.
"Oh, cool! Well, we shall see..."
The judge banged his gavel, silencing the murmurs in the room. He leaned forward, his expression severe as he addressed Susan.
"Susan, for the crime of theft, you have been found guilty."
"Please, Your Honor, it was a mistake! I didn’t mean to steal it!" Susan's voice was desperate, her eyes filling with tears.
"I have carte blanche to determine your punishment and... please don't be angry at me, but I really think you should be... executed. The sentence will be carried out at once..."
Susan's heart sank, her knees nearly giving way beneath her. "No, please, Your Honor, I don't want to die, I'm so young, there are so many things I want to do..." Her voice cracked with desperation, her hands trembling.
"I'm afraid you won't do those things anymore, Susan, 'cause you're gonna die. Really, that's what you deserve, in my not-so-humble opinion," the judge replied, his tone unyielding.
"Please, at least give me a couple of days," she begged, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm not ready, I'm not ready to die now!"
The judge shook his head. "Don't worry, you'll be executed now, but you won't actually die now: you will be crucified, nailed to a wooden cross."
Susan's eyes widened in horror, her mind reeling. "Crucified?"
"Technically, you'll be an executed person just after you're nailed on the cross and you're raised with it, a corpse in other words... but actually, a young, fit felon like you can be expected to survive for two, maybe even three days on the cross," the judge explained.
"You see, Susan? You won't die today. A healthy, young female like you can survive on the cross, in agony of course, for at least two days, maybe more. So you'll live... for a while."
Susan's pleas grew more frantic. "Please, there must be another way? Give me a month... no, a week would suffice, please..."
"Oh god, this sounds worse than dying immediately!" one of the spectators muttered.
The judge smirked. "Perhaps... or perhaps not. You might find your slow agony crucified somewhat intriguing, or so I'm told. Particularly, if a wooden sedile is inserted between your legs..."
"You'll grind the sedile with your pussy, slut!" someone in the crowd jeered.
"Look forward to seeing your vagina split by it!" another added, their voice dripping with malicious glee.
The judge banged his gavel again for silence. "Executioner, please be a good man and look for a spot under a tree, with some shade to shield our dear Susan here from too much sunlight and let her live... and suffer, longer."
The executioner nodded, his face impassive. "Sure, Your Honor. And I've already sent Karen to look for a suitable sedile, so to have her... entertained as she awaits her death," he said, his voice gruff but obedient.
Susan was led away, her world spinning. Her pleas for mercy were ignored as she was taken outside into the blazing sun. They walked for what felt like miles, her bare feet burning on the hot ground, until they reached a large tree. The shade it provided was a small mercy in the otherwise unbearable heat.
Karen, a young woman with a kind face, was already there, holding the sedile in her hands. "I’m Karen. I’ll be helping you through this, Susan. It’s going to be hard, but we’ll make it as bearable as possible," she said softly, her eyes full of sympathy.
Susan looked at the wooden seat, her stomach turning. "Now strip please. I'm sure you hide a pretty body under those clothes. And you won't need them anymore; you'll die naked, pussy and tits for all to see..." Karen instructed gently but firmly.
Susan’s cheeks burned with humiliation. "It's so embarrassing," she muttered, her hands trembling as she began to undress.
"Honey, that's the last of your problems, really. Now, please, show yourself in the nude," Karen replied, her tone sympathetic but unyielding.
Once Susan was stripped, her naked body glistening with sweat, she was positioned on the cross. Her arms were stretched wide, her legs slightly parted. The executioner worked methodically, positioning her carefully.
Karen couldn't help but comment, "You're so pretty, Susan. Small pretty tits, and a prominent pussy: so cute! Once crucified and all stretched out, you'll be even prettier!" she said with a sing-song voice.
"Please, don’t do this," Susan pleaded, her voice trembling with fear.
"We have to, Susan," Karen said gently, brushing Susan's hair from her face. "The executioner will give you so much pain... but still, he’ll be as kind as he can."
The executioner picked up a long, sharp spike, his eyes meeting Susan's. "This will hurt, badly, but please, try to be brave, gal," he said softly.
Susan's eyes widened in terror. "It will shatter my wrist!" she cried.
"Oh, absolutely not, my dear. We don't want you to snuff it too soon from blood loss or infection. The nails are carefully disinfected and designed to join you with your wooden killer without much damage to your precious bones or blood vessels!" he explained.
Susan's voice was a choked whisper. "My... wooden killer?"
"The wooden killer is your cross, silly. It will execute you slowly, in a couple of days, maybe more. It will give you the suffering and death you've been sentenced to," he clarified.
As the first spike was driven into her wrist, Susan screamed, her body writhing in agony. The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt before, searing through her with a brutal intensity.
"Please, stop, make it stop pleaseee!" she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Karen leaned in, her fingers opening Susan's labia. "Look what we have here, your pleasure bud. Just poking out of its hood. Ready to mix some enjoyment in your death cocktail?" she said softly.
Karen began to massage Susan's clit gently, her touch bringing some measure of pleasure that confused Susan's tormented mind. "What are you doin'?" Susan gasped.
"Me? Masturbating you, isn't that obvious? With some good ol' friggin' and fingerin' of your sex, I'm sure you will deal with your ordeal much better, honey," Karen replied with a sadistic smile.
"You’re doing great, Susan," Karen said softly, her voice soothing. "You’re so brave."
"Please, it hurts so much," Susan sobbed, her body trembling with the overwhelming sensations.
"It has to. You're sentenced to be hurt and killed, so you have to accept that you're gonna be in a great deal of pain for the rest of your short life, I'm afraid," Karen replied matter-of-factly.
The second spike followed, the sensation of her flesh being torn and impaled overwhelming her senses. Susan's body convulsed, her screams echoing through the trees.
Meanwhile, Susan's body responded involuntarily to Karen's masturbating fingers, her hips bucking against Karen's hand. "Oh God... my pussy..." she gasped, her breath hitching.
"Just try to focus on the pleasure, Susan," Karen murmured. "It will help with the pain."
As Karen continued to stimulate her, the executioner drove the spikes through Susan's feet, each blow sending waves of agony through her body. She cried out, her voice raw and desperate.
"It’s almost over, Susan," Karen whispered, her fingers still twisting and pulling Susan's perky clitoris. "You’re so strong. You can do this."
The cross was lifted, and Susan's weight shifted, the spikes in her wrists and feet bearing the strain. She was positioned over the sedile, the wooden seat pressing into her pussy, splitting her labia wide open. The rough wood rubbed against her clitoris, adding to the strange mix of sensations.
"Oh God, it hurts," Susan moaned, her body writhing on the cross.
"I know, sweetheart," Karen said softly. "But you’re doing so well. Just keep focusing on the pleasure. Let it help you through this."
Susan's body was slick with sweat, her muscles trembling. The pain was relentless, but Karen's touch brought moments of fleeting relief. Her hips moved involuntarily, grinding against the sedile, the rough wood stimulating her clit.
"You’re amazing, Susan," Karen praised, her voice filled with a twisted kind of affection. "I can't wait to see you cumming on this sedile, your fluids mixing with the sweat and blood on your body."
Susan's eyes were filled with tears, her cheeks flushed. "I don’t want to die," she whispered, her voice filled with dread. "I’m so scared."
Karen’s fingers continued their gentle ministrations. "I know, honey. But you have to face this. You’re a big girl now. Big enough to be hurt and killed by a wooden cross and scream in pain. You've been a bad girl, and you have to pay. It's all just that simple."
Susan’s breaths came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with a mix of agony and arousal. "Please, stay with me," she begged, her voice breaking.
"Sorry honey, so many people to execute today," Karen said, stepping back as the executioner finished securing her to the cross.
Susan’s world spun as she was left alone, her body hanging from the cross, her legs spread and her vulva split wide open by the wooden sedile. Sweat dripped from her skin, mingling with her tears and the juices from her pussy.
As the minutes passed, Susan's suffering continued, the pain unrelenting. Her body was a mass of conflicting sensations, the agony of the spikes and the sedile mixing with the unwanted pleasure from her pussy rubbing on the latter. The sun moved across the sky, casting long shadows over her naked, tormented form.
Susan’s eyes fluttered open, filled with a mix of pain and confusion. She was aware of every sensation, the rough wood rubbing against her clitoris, the spikes in her wrists and feet, the strain on her muscles. Her body was slick with sweat, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath.
"How can I endure so much horror done to me?" she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. "I dunno if I have to look at death with fear or... relief," she murmured, her voice filled with dread.
The minutes dragged on, each moment an eternity of pain and fear. Susan’s body was a battleground of sensations, the agony of the crucifixion mixed with the perverse pleasure from the sedile. She was a living, breathing testament to human suffering, her naked form exposed to the harsh reality of her execution.
She was all alone: it was a workday after all, most people had to go on with their lives, just as Susan had to go on her road to death, paved with agony.
You can find it here: https://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/the-man-with-the-van-female-crucifixion-reluctant.11367/
So now I've created a prequel to it.
This prequel is fully stand alone, as it depicts Susan sentencing and crucifixion.
If the response is good, I might consider creating a sequel too...
Prequel to "The Man with the Van"
It was a blistering summer day, and the air inside the courtroom was stifling. The spectators fanned themselves, their faces glistening with sweat as they awaited the verdict. The judge, notorious for his harsh sentences, sat sternly on the bench, his eyes fixed on the trembling young woman standing before him.
"Damn, it’s so warm today! And in this courtroom too!" one of the spectators whispered, wiping his brow.
"Yeah, but the hangin' judge is in session. I'm so curious to hear what he has in store for this little minx here..." another replied, nodding towards Susan.
"Susan? That cute gal with the nipples perking through the fabric of her top?" the first man asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Precisely!"
Susan stood there, her small breasts heaving with each nervous breath, her eyes wide with fear. Her nipples were indeed visible through her thin top, a testament to the cool drafts that sporadically offered some relief from the oppressive heat.
"She just stole a perfume, I think..." one of the men commented, shaking his head.
"Well, here that may be just enough for the electric chair!" the other replied with a grim chuckle.
"Oh, cool! Well, we shall see..."
The judge banged his gavel, silencing the murmurs in the room. He leaned forward, his expression severe as he addressed Susan.
"Susan, for the crime of theft, you have been found guilty."
"Please, Your Honor, it was a mistake! I didn’t mean to steal it!" Susan's voice was desperate, her eyes filling with tears.
"I have carte blanche to determine your punishment and... please don't be angry at me, but I really think you should be... executed. The sentence will be carried out at once..."
Susan's heart sank, her knees nearly giving way beneath her. "No, please, Your Honor, I don't want to die, I'm so young, there are so many things I want to do..." Her voice cracked with desperation, her hands trembling.
"I'm afraid you won't do those things anymore, Susan, 'cause you're gonna die. Really, that's what you deserve, in my not-so-humble opinion," the judge replied, his tone unyielding.
"Please, at least give me a couple of days," she begged, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm not ready, I'm not ready to die now!"
The judge shook his head. "Don't worry, you'll be executed now, but you won't actually die now: you will be crucified, nailed to a wooden cross."
Susan's eyes widened in horror, her mind reeling. "Crucified?"
"Technically, you'll be an executed person just after you're nailed on the cross and you're raised with it, a corpse in other words... but actually, a young, fit felon like you can be expected to survive for two, maybe even three days on the cross," the judge explained.
"You see, Susan? You won't die today. A healthy, young female like you can survive on the cross, in agony of course, for at least two days, maybe more. So you'll live... for a while."
Susan's pleas grew more frantic. "Please, there must be another way? Give me a month... no, a week would suffice, please..."
"Oh god, this sounds worse than dying immediately!" one of the spectators muttered.
The judge smirked. "Perhaps... or perhaps not. You might find your slow agony crucified somewhat intriguing, or so I'm told. Particularly, if a wooden sedile is inserted between your legs..."
"You'll grind the sedile with your pussy, slut!" someone in the crowd jeered.
"Look forward to seeing your vagina split by it!" another added, their voice dripping with malicious glee.
The judge banged his gavel again for silence. "Executioner, please be a good man and look for a spot under a tree, with some shade to shield our dear Susan here from too much sunlight and let her live... and suffer, longer."
The executioner nodded, his face impassive. "Sure, Your Honor. And I've already sent Karen to look for a suitable sedile, so to have her... entertained as she awaits her death," he said, his voice gruff but obedient.
Susan was led away, her world spinning. Her pleas for mercy were ignored as she was taken outside into the blazing sun. They walked for what felt like miles, her bare feet burning on the hot ground, until they reached a large tree. The shade it provided was a small mercy in the otherwise unbearable heat.
Karen, a young woman with a kind face, was already there, holding the sedile in her hands. "I’m Karen. I’ll be helping you through this, Susan. It’s going to be hard, but we’ll make it as bearable as possible," she said softly, her eyes full of sympathy.
Susan looked at the wooden seat, her stomach turning. "Now strip please. I'm sure you hide a pretty body under those clothes. And you won't need them anymore; you'll die naked, pussy and tits for all to see..." Karen instructed gently but firmly.
Susan’s cheeks burned with humiliation. "It's so embarrassing," she muttered, her hands trembling as she began to undress.
"Honey, that's the last of your problems, really. Now, please, show yourself in the nude," Karen replied, her tone sympathetic but unyielding.
Once Susan was stripped, her naked body glistening with sweat, she was positioned on the cross. Her arms were stretched wide, her legs slightly parted. The executioner worked methodically, positioning her carefully.
Karen couldn't help but comment, "You're so pretty, Susan. Small pretty tits, and a prominent pussy: so cute! Once crucified and all stretched out, you'll be even prettier!" she said with a sing-song voice.
"Please, don’t do this," Susan pleaded, her voice trembling with fear.
"We have to, Susan," Karen said gently, brushing Susan's hair from her face. "The executioner will give you so much pain... but still, he’ll be as kind as he can."
The executioner picked up a long, sharp spike, his eyes meeting Susan's. "This will hurt, badly, but please, try to be brave, gal," he said softly.
Susan's eyes widened in terror. "It will shatter my wrist!" she cried.
"Oh, absolutely not, my dear. We don't want you to snuff it too soon from blood loss or infection. The nails are carefully disinfected and designed to join you with your wooden killer without much damage to your precious bones or blood vessels!" he explained.
Susan's voice was a choked whisper. "My... wooden killer?"
"The wooden killer is your cross, silly. It will execute you slowly, in a couple of days, maybe more. It will give you the suffering and death you've been sentenced to," he clarified.
As the first spike was driven into her wrist, Susan screamed, her body writhing in agony. The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt before, searing through her with a brutal intensity.
"Please, stop, make it stop pleaseee!" she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Karen leaned in, her fingers opening Susan's labia. "Look what we have here, your pleasure bud. Just poking out of its hood. Ready to mix some enjoyment in your death cocktail?" she said softly.
Karen began to massage Susan's clit gently, her touch bringing some measure of pleasure that confused Susan's tormented mind. "What are you doin'?" Susan gasped.
"Me? Masturbating you, isn't that obvious? With some good ol' friggin' and fingerin' of your sex, I'm sure you will deal with your ordeal much better, honey," Karen replied with a sadistic smile.
"You’re doing great, Susan," Karen said softly, her voice soothing. "You’re so brave."
"Please, it hurts so much," Susan sobbed, her body trembling with the overwhelming sensations.
"It has to. You're sentenced to be hurt and killed, so you have to accept that you're gonna be in a great deal of pain for the rest of your short life, I'm afraid," Karen replied matter-of-factly.
The second spike followed, the sensation of her flesh being torn and impaled overwhelming her senses. Susan's body convulsed, her screams echoing through the trees.
Meanwhile, Susan's body responded involuntarily to Karen's masturbating fingers, her hips bucking against Karen's hand. "Oh God... my pussy..." she gasped, her breath hitching.
"Just try to focus on the pleasure, Susan," Karen murmured. "It will help with the pain."
As Karen continued to stimulate her, the executioner drove the spikes through Susan's feet, each blow sending waves of agony through her body. She cried out, her voice raw and desperate.
"It’s almost over, Susan," Karen whispered, her fingers still twisting and pulling Susan's perky clitoris. "You’re so strong. You can do this."
The cross was lifted, and Susan's weight shifted, the spikes in her wrists and feet bearing the strain. She was positioned over the sedile, the wooden seat pressing into her pussy, splitting her labia wide open. The rough wood rubbed against her clitoris, adding to the strange mix of sensations.
"Oh God, it hurts," Susan moaned, her body writhing on the cross.
"I know, sweetheart," Karen said softly. "But you’re doing so well. Just keep focusing on the pleasure. Let it help you through this."
Susan's body was slick with sweat, her muscles trembling. The pain was relentless, but Karen's touch brought moments of fleeting relief. Her hips moved involuntarily, grinding against the sedile, the rough wood stimulating her clit.
"You’re amazing, Susan," Karen praised, her voice filled with a twisted kind of affection. "I can't wait to see you cumming on this sedile, your fluids mixing with the sweat and blood on your body."
Susan's eyes were filled with tears, her cheeks flushed. "I don’t want to die," she whispered, her voice filled with dread. "I’m so scared."
Karen’s fingers continued their gentle ministrations. "I know, honey. But you have to face this. You’re a big girl now. Big enough to be hurt and killed by a wooden cross and scream in pain. You've been a bad girl, and you have to pay. It's all just that simple."
Susan’s breaths came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with a mix of agony and arousal. "Please, stay with me," she begged, her voice breaking.
"Sorry honey, so many people to execute today," Karen said, stepping back as the executioner finished securing her to the cross.
Susan’s world spun as she was left alone, her body hanging from the cross, her legs spread and her vulva split wide open by the wooden sedile. Sweat dripped from her skin, mingling with her tears and the juices from her pussy.
As the minutes passed, Susan's suffering continued, the pain unrelenting. Her body was a mass of conflicting sensations, the agony of the spikes and the sedile mixing with the unwanted pleasure from her pussy rubbing on the latter. The sun moved across the sky, casting long shadows over her naked, tormented form.
Susan’s eyes fluttered open, filled with a mix of pain and confusion. She was aware of every sensation, the rough wood rubbing against her clitoris, the spikes in her wrists and feet, the strain on her muscles. Her body was slick with sweat, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath.
"How can I endure so much horror done to me?" she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. "I dunno if I have to look at death with fear or... relief," she murmured, her voice filled with dread.
The minutes dragged on, each moment an eternity of pain and fear. Susan’s body was a battleground of sensations, the agony of the crucifixion mixed with the perverse pleasure from the sedile. She was a living, breathing testament to human suffering, her naked form exposed to the harsh reality of her execution.
She was all alone: it was a workday after all, most people had to go on with their lives, just as Susan had to go on her road to death, paved with agony.