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Holy crux, @tygavin that was white hot, like the heated pincers my torturer holds close to my face before applying it to my deserving flesh in burning agony…

Please do continue when you can… I’m hanging on the cross with her. It’s such a terrible injustice that the men are denied this ultimate torture but miss Loinclothslave can…
 
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Yes, I’m cheating, I deserve to be punished

Absolutely, we could suffer gloriously side by side?

:azote: :roflmao:
Sure! I imagine, Colonel Loxura as a not particularly attractive mature, as a stern, arrogant, man-hating bitch! The word ‘empathy’ has always been strange to her. Orders were orders and discipline was discipline! She was rather feared and hated than respected among the troops, NCO’s and officers of her unit!

The enemy patrol that took her prisoner of war, had been able to infiltrate so far behind the lines, because she had ignored advices about the risk of such operations.

It is rumoured that the subordinate officers of her unit opened a bottle of champagne after they had learned about her capture, for being rid of her, and knowing what a cruel fate awaited her at the other side : harsh interrogation, rape, and finally crucifixion!

They already imagined her naked, her a bit plump body struggling on a cross! Will she take her fate in a glorious, accepting way, fighting her humiliation and agony with pride, she, who had always despised surrender? Or will she, like many others, loose her composure, confronted with this grueling treatment, no one is trained for nor can be trained for!? And she will have no privileges from her rank and treated the same way as the others of the batch of POW's she will be crucified with! Trooper, NCO or officer, on the cross, everybody is equal!

Probably, they soon will learn! Pictures of the crucified POW are always communicated through neutral institutions. To confirm the death of the captive, and of course as a warning and a deterrent! The enemy does not capture and crucify a colonel every day! That’s good for propaganda! They sure will spread pics from her execution!
 
The first clue to the length to my time on the cross before I died cam when I was raised.

Rather than crudely shoved up and banging when my cross bottomed out in a hole, I was raised ever so slowly. The hydraulic bottom of the cross made little noise. I held myself as stiffly as possible, waiting for the moment when it swung up wildly but it never came.

My ass rubbed the wood as I slowly slid down. Trey placed his hands on my small waist and guided me though, making sure my slide was controlled.

This wasn’t to say I didn’t experience pain. By the time my cross stood tall and straight I realized that wedge of wood under my soles would do little to nothing to alleviate the pain in my body as I hung from my wrists. My heels could almost touch my ass but not quite, denying me the respite of a sitting position. It did have the benefit of pushing my body forward more easily, my chest proudly on display as I offered my body to the world.

I heard Staci crying and then felt the tears on my own cheeks. I was not crying aloud but I was mumbling to myself and made a concentrated effort to stop.

I had to breathe.

I made my first move on the cross, one of thousands I would repeat until my body gave out.

I stood. I pushed myself off my feet and a fire unlike any I had ever known raced through my body. The pain was hell on earth, exquisite and terrible. I took deep breaths as I stood on my nailed feet for as long as possible. Finally I had enough and lowered myself once again.

Trey had taken off his mask and was looking at me with approval.

He reached out a covered cooler cup with a straw. I drank the fruity tasting liquid immediately.

He smirked when I reached the bottoms and held up a small bullet vibrator.

“Now the fun begins.”

Oh god.

His fingers already familiar with my pussy gently pulled my lips apart and shoved the cold metal device inside me. I was so wet I didn’t need lube. He pushed it up deeply.

Then he showed me a remote and turned it on.

My eyes rolled back in my head s my body shot out from the cross, begging the air to fuck me. I screamed in ecstasy and pain as I felt both at once. It was the story of my life.

Some would think my life was blessed. A fool would say nothing could hurt me. What harms others is pleasure to me.

This is not true. My life has been cursed. I feel pain and it is miserable. What is different is for me to feel pleasure I must feel pain. The worse the pain the more the pleasure but I still feel pain. I can never be normal. I can never feel pleasure like a normal person. I have to be humiliated or injured to enjoy a gift most men and women enjoy freely with dignity and joy.

My hips twisted and I bucked back and forth, my ass slamming into the wood I was nailed to and finally I was able to control myself long enough to throw myself to the side, bending my body so I hung from one side of the cross or the other.

The vibration was becoming too much. I knew what was in that drink. That along with my own inclinations was leading me to an orgasm that may throw my body off this cursed tree.

Despite knowing it was coming the orgasm hit me so suddenly I was blinded by a bright light as I squeezed my legs together. It did nothing to stop the gush of liquid coming from me.

I hung limply in great pain with my eyes closed. I kept them closed and held my breath as long as possible until I felt a cool rag being pushed between my closed legs.

I opened my eyes and saw several soldiers watching me. I became aware of my surroundings and heard their laughter, even cheers. Jessica, my would be torturer and last female lover was wiping my.

“That’s how a pain slut cums, brothers.” Trey told them. “She won’t be dead for a very long while, days and days. Lets give her an hour to come to terms with her new reality and then she will be available for inspection as will the other one. Lets give one more hand to Chloe and cheer Staci on. She looks like she needs some help. I think he executioner is going to use a wand on her.

The group moved over to Staci and I took a glance at her. She was still crying and twisting her hips side to side. She was having difficulty orgasming but it would come and it would be horrible. For the first time in her life she would experience life from my point of view.

“There, we have you cleaned up.” Jessica told her. “I’ll be cleaning your pretty cunt to keep you fresh. Make sure you tell Trey when you have to go.”

I shook my head in confusion. “What?”

Trey stepped up with a white garment that sort of looked like a bikini bottom but was thicker. The back was more like a thong.

“When you need to piss. Jessica will put this on you.”

My eyes widened. “Is that a fucking diaper!?”

Trey shrugged. “It’s a pad designed to go over your cunt and soak up your piss. Call it what you want. We are going to be here for days. I am not in the mood to smell a cross soaked with piss and I doubt you want to smell it either. Tell me when and I will call Jess. You can piss into it or piss on the ground in front of everyone and smell it. You’re a sex show but you are still a dead girl. Show some courtesy to us still living and give me a heads up.”

I slammed my head back, wishing I hadn’t when I contacted the wood. That was humiliating. Was it as humiliating as putting on a sex show for enemy soldiers? Yes. Possible more. It was a stark reminder than I was in the complete control of another. I couldn’t scratch my nose that I noticed was itching. I couldn’t even control where I pissed or what into.

I raised myself slightly and my ass was already burning from the smooth wood. I pushed myself out and began twisting side to die, fighting off cramps and helping the skin of my ass not touch the wood.

Staci came. It was more of a howl but it caught my attention and the way she was humping the wand made it obvious.

I looked around the cavernous hall. Where it had been cool before, it no longer seemed so now. I was beginning to sweat, likely from the pain and movement, not the temperature. My body was on fire. Some gallows had been rolled out in front of the cells, about on hundred feet from me. It was a simple wooden structure. Only an upside down L with a noose hanging down. The rope led to a hydraulic machine and a remote probably started it. The victim, the guys I fucked a couple of nights ago would be raised by their necks off their feet.

Most of them were at the bars, looking with fear at the simple but frightening structure.

Most of them were erect. I suppose the body had funny ways of dealing with oncoming death. I had heard most men hung with hard ons and came in the air but had a hard time believing it. I had seen videos of crucifixions but never had interest in seeing men die. I was interested now.

I also felt sorry for them. They weren’t bad guys and I know each of them, or at least their cocks intimately.

My cross began to drop. I was slowly lowered into the ground. I knew it was possible, Trey had explained the specifics but going from a high position to a lower one was freaky. Thanks to Trey’s height he was looking me in the eye as my feet were only inches from the ground.

“We are going to give each one a chance to say goodbye to you and Staci before we kill them.” Trey explained.

My eyes widened, not having expected this. The first was taken out of his cage and had his hands bound. He was brought before me, naked, shaking, and breathing heavily. He kissed me and I opened my mouth and kissed him back on instinct. His naked body pressed to mine and I felt his cock pressed between my closed thighs. He tried to enter me but Trey pulled him back.

“Last goodbye, not a last fuck. Say by by to Staci and get ready to meet your death.” Trey told him.

I watched him suck Staci’s nipple and then taken to the noose. He cried when the noose was tightened around his neck. His muscles bugled and his cock was so large and had it looked like it was going to burst.

Then he was raised off the ground.
 
Watching the man die, the soldier who I had marched beside and fucked on numerous occasions was a fascinating experience. He did not die well. Rather than hanging limply until the life passed from his eyes, he kicked, twisted and humped the air. His legs clamped together tightly and his cock stood long, red and angry. His balls were squeezed between his thighs and he seemed ot be fucking the air.

His face turned red, the veins in his neck strained and his ass clenched over and over. His entire body flexed in ways I had never seen it flew before. It was like a ripple or wave rolled through his muscles from his chest down to his feet. He moved sort of like a belly dancer, not a very manly look.

Nothing about this was manly. It was rather pathetic, being tied by enemies and dying in a humiliating fashion in front of several cameras and enemies cheering and commenting on how his cock bounced.

He brought his knees nearly to his chest and when he slammed then downward, his cock exploded, jets of cum shooting straight into the air with unbelievable power.

Most of it landed on his face, his nose, his cheeks and some reaching his gaping mouth.

It was pathetic. He finally hung limp and his cock softened. He jerked a few times and then he pissed himself.

A strong virile soldier, reduced to a pathetic sack of meat, recorded for his country to see, hanging by a stretched neck with his own cum dripping off his face.

My fellow male prisoners had close up views of the entire event.

They were offered but none wanted to say goodbye to Staci and me. They didn’t try to hide their terror. They shook as they stood in line waiting their turn. They weren’t even hard.

Until they stepped to the noose and the noose was placed over their heads and around their strong necks. The executioner jerked them until the grew hard despite their fear and they were raised off the ground. The asphyxia ensured they stayed hard.

Each of them came violently before they died and most of them died with their own cum on their face, chest or abdomen. After the second man pissed himself some of the men began to cry loudly.

I was spread out on a cross, nailed, all my free will taken from me, unable to even touch myself, naked and writhing and I knew there was a strong likelihood millions of people would see me on the internet. I had days of pain rather than minutes waiting for me and then the cold embrace of death. Despite what I was going through I was ashamed of these men even more. They all laid in a large container on wheels, a body pile of naked dead bodies carelessly thrown on top of each other and they had all gone out as cowards. Not even Staci has cried as much during her time on the cross.

When the bodies were taken away my mind was no longer distracted and I regained complete focus on my own pain. I still moved side to side, up and down, trying to fund a position I could breath easier in or cramp less. Nothing worked. I was in hell.

My pussy was betraying me as usual. I was sweating from the movement but that was not sweat that soaked my folds. Inside I was so hot. I wanted to be fucked or touch myself, scratch the itch that pain usually demanded of me. Staci was being whipped and squealing every time the leather hit her beautiful breasts.

I was given nothing. Trey and Jessica ignored me. Only a lone camera set on a tripod in front of my body witnessed my pain and humiliation.

Of course I knew what they were doing. There was only one way to torture a masochist. Do nothing to her. Or at least nothing else in this case. There was no satisfaction that accompanied this pain. Some may think being a masochist would be a blessing in this case. If you get off on pain this should be the ultimate orgasm. In reality being a masochist made my life hell.

I still felt pain and reacted to it. It hurt. Everytime I was whipped or chained or called a whore, it hurt. My curse was to feel any pleasure I had to endure pain. I had tried my entire adult life to get off like a normal woman. I didn’t like to only be able to orgasm when I was humiliated or made to suffer. It was what it was. A curse and this was no paradise. This was hell with the occasional orgasm thrown in. Not to say the orgasms weren’t great. The greater the pain or humiliation, the greater the orgasm. But the pain always remained.

I had a feeling a new pain would be coming soon. Trey gave me water.

“Is that…”

“Yeah, it’s the aphrodisiac. Not that you need it. I can smell your arousal twenty feet away. Poor Chloe. It sucks not to shove your fingers up your cunt, doesn’t it?”

I didn’t bother to answer because the answer was obvious.

“Your Human Rights advisor is on her way. She is legally required to take any last words and explain what we can and likely well do to you. Torturing a masochist is my ultimate challenge. How much pain can I put you through before you break and no longer have a wet little cunt? How much can you take before you beg me to kill you? Here she is now. See you soon, love.”

Another person who was neutral. I hate those the most. At least I knew what I was to the enemy. They treated me like an enemy, tortured me and were killing me like an enemy. Just like the last bitch we all saw when we arrived, this one would look at me with pity while hiding satisfaction. She would be condescending and cold and she likely got off on death as much as I got off on pain.

I wasn’t sure what was worse. The clock on the far side of the execution area above the cells showed how long I had been hanging. As my body became used to sliding up and down, I paid more attention to the clock. I watched the minutes go by so slowly, knowing they would never end until I was dead. Maybe it have been better to be outside at night with no way to know the time.

I ached all over. The pain in my body from cramps was becoming as bad as the pain in my wrists and feet. It took an hour before a rather sever looking bitch in a tight uniform with huge tits came before me. My cross was lowered into the ground so I was face to face with her.

“Do you have any last words for anyone?” she asked shortly.

I shook my head. I had left my parents without a word. I’m not sure if they even knew I was in the army. My brother had disappeared a year before I graduated high school and I hadn’t seen or heard from him since. We never got along so I wasn’t too upset about it. What could I possibly say? Hey Mom and Dad, I joined the army, got captured and now I’m pinned naked to a cross trying not to orgasm for the camera more than I have to? I’m dying but its okay because I’m a pain slut.

“I do not have to tell you your situation. They do have the right to video this and you are currently on the internet now. You and little Staci have over a million followers. That’s a lot of dicks and pussies being rubbed out.”

The bitch reached out and placed her finger on my clit and I jerked forward. I couldn’t help the moan of pleasure that caught me by surprise.

“You are a hot one. I’m surprised they are even wasting the drug on you. You have a cute body. I would love to beat the hell out of your cute little face if you wouldn’t enjoy it so much.”

I smirked despite the pain. “I thought you were neutral?”

“Politically yes, personally, I would love to be the one to kill you. I can tell by looking at you that you fear death. I would love to be the one to cause that spark to go out of your eyes. I would gut you if you were wondering."

She walked away.

“I wasn’t.” I yelled after her.

They remainder of the afternoon was unremarkable. I was not molested surprisingly. I was left alone in my pain. My pain was a dull ache and a burning sensation on my feet. My hands had gone number and I couldn’t feel my toes so that was nice.

At six PM, Trey and Jessica started fucking with me. They tased my nipples and cunt, stuck the prongs into my labia and watched me dance faster, scream louder and cum over and over. They kept me hydrated with that damn water that was making me act like a wanton slut I was on video for the world to see.

At nine o clock, before Jessica brought out the whip, I had to ask for the…call it what it was. It was a diaper. Small and only temporary but I had to pee in it. It was warm, and when it was gone she cleaned me with a wet cloth. I don’t believe I had been more humiliated than I had been at that moment. That was when it became clear that I really had no purpose or ability to do anything but hang until my muscles gave out and I stopped breathing.

Luckily it shouldn’t take long. My arms and legs were on fire. I wouldn’t survive this for days like they thought.

I learned that wasn’t the case at midnight. My cross was raised high in the air and then to my shock it began sipping back until it was in the horizontal position I was originally nailed in.

“What is this?!”

Trey laughed at me. “I said you would live for four to six days. For the next couple nights we will bring you down to give you a breather. Take some deep breaths, and after you are finished giving head to a regiment that just returned you can maybe even get a few hours of sleep. Just remember, Jess and I will be sleeping and we aren’t wiping cum out of your eyes. If you get shot there keep them closed until morning.”

They strapped me around the waist and across my breasts so I wouldn’t tip to one side or the other and the lights went out.

It wasn’t long until loud soldiers entered the arena and I had fingers in my cunt and cocks in my mouth. Trey’s advice was good and I kept my eyes closed until the morning. I must have fallen into a fretful sleep because something slapped my face. I opened my matted eyes and saw a cock in front of my mouth.

My eyes traveled up and I forgot how to breathe.

“Jake?”

“Hey little sis. I heard we had a special POW. Trey was nice enough to let me have his shift for the day. Now suck my cock. We have a long day ahead. I know how much pain you can take. We will find out how much humiliation you can take before you beg me to kill you.”
 
In reality being a masochist made my life hell.

I still felt pain and reacted to it. It hurt. Everytime I was whipped or chained or called a whore, it hurt. My curse was to feel any pleasure I had to endure pain. I had tried my entire adult life to get off like a normal woman. I didn’t like to only be able to orgasm when I was humiliated or made to suffer. It was what it was. A curse and this was no paradise. This was hell with the occasional orgasm thrown in. Not to say the orgasms weren’t great. The greater the pain or humiliation, the greater the orgasm. But the pain always remained.

I confess that part of me envies her anyway.


“Politically yes, personally, I would love to be the one to kill you. I can tell by looking at you that you fear death. I would love to be the one to cause that spark to go out of your eyes. I would gut you if you were wondering."
Looking forward for some good disembowelment on the cross!
 
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The winner takes it all?

View attachment 1398138
Barbaria, the rebel leader, has finally been defeated by the tyrannical Duke and his superior forces, and is now their prisoner. She has a wound on her left cheek, and the mercenaries were not gentle when they removed her armour and the clothing she wore beneath it, taking the skin off her right knee and damaging her right nipple which is weeping blood.
The blacksmith has been called to remove her self fitted chastity belt before she is taken to the whipping post in the market square, to receive the fifty lashes promised by the Duke, and then be sold into slavery.
 
Barbaria, the rebel leader, has finally been defeated by the tyrannical Duke and his superior forces, and is now their prisoner. She has a wound on her left cheek, and the mercenaries were not gentle when they removed her armour and the clothing she wore beneath it, taking the skin off her right knee and damaging her right nipple which is weeping blood.
The blacksmith has been called to remove her self fitted chastity belt before she is taken to the whipping post in the market square, to receive the fifty lashes promised by the Duke, and then be sold into slavery.
Having a bad day, I was …
 
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