When I first saw this image I immediately thought of a snappy, short caption for it. But I couldn’t help myself and instead started to write a very unlikely short dialogue between the soldier and the girl, which quickly became a longer dialogue. And then this.
I enjoy starting off with something small and just seeing where it leads me. Hope you enjoy it a little. This got a little out of control. Don’t think of it as set in any particular time. Just go with it.
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A young, crucified woman has a sudden problem as she hangs on her cross. A soldier walks by and she calls out to him for help. I know, I know, she’s crucified, right? What could possibly top that as a problem for her? Well, just go along with the ridiculousness of it all.
We pick up their conversation here:
Something's Lost
"There! You see it? Down by that rock."
The soldier looks down at the rocks spread around the ground in the front of the girl’s cross. "What rock? I only see rocks, lots of them. Sorry, girlie, I don't see it.” The soldier starts to poke at the rocks with the tip of his sandaled foot. “Maybe if I move ‘em around a bit . . . "
"Shit! Stop! Don't do anything stupid now. Be careful! You're going to step on it!"
"Look, bitch,” he says with low growl as he looks at her menacingly, “I'm doing you a favor, so don't get all up in my ass here."
"Sorry sir,” she says quietly. Didn't mean to shout at you. I'm a little bitchy right now. Hope you understand."
The girl is breathing heavily and sweating profusely from her exertions on the cross. The soldier really just wants to watch her ample breasts jiggle as her chest heaves. She’s hanging down with her arms fully stretched from her nailed wrists. Her full breasts are thrust forward from her chest. In this position, her thighs are spread and her pussy is exposed. Sweat and blood drip from her face as she stares down at the ground in front of her cross.
"Yeah, I understand.” He reluctantly looks back at the ground in front of the girl’s cross. He’d much rather be looking at her tits! “But I still don't see it anywhere. You sure you lost it? I mean, with you sweating and bleeding from your head and all. Can you even tell?"
"Yes! Yes! I'm fucking sure I lost it! Wouldn’t I know if I lost it?" The girl responds with considerable irritability in her voice.
"Okay, then. Easy now, girl. When? Just when you called me over, or earlier?"
"I had it when they raised me up. I know I did. That was like what, a couple of hours ago?"
"Shit! You've barely been hanging for one hour, girl.”
“Whatever!” She responds breathlessly, her chest rising and falling. “Like I said, I know I had it when they raised me up. I was screaming and moving around a lot before I got so tired. Not sure when I first noticed it gone, but there was nobody near me until you walked by. They were all busy with crucifying the others.”
The crucified girl looks up at the soldier to see that he’s not really listening to her. Rather, he’s staring intently at her breasts. The soldier immediately notices that she’s aware of his stare. “You know, girl,” he begins to say, “you have the most beautiful breasts I’ve seen . . . ”
The girl cuts him off. “Yeah, well they served me well enough in life to this point. But not well enough” -- she’s shouting now and struggling -- “to keep me from being fucking nailed to this fucking cross! My pussy neither!”
As she finishes her rant her head drops forward as she tries to hang down even further from her arms. Her shoulders are painfully bunched and her slender arm muscles stand out sharply with the strain on them. Her wrist wounds ooze blood around the iron nails pounded through them. Rivulets of blood snake down the undersides of her arms to flow into the deep hollows in her armpits. Even the soldier, as hardened to bloody injuries as he can be, winces at the sight of her flesh moving even slightly against the nails. She stares intently at the ground, moving her head side to side to scan the area as sweat and blood drip from her face.
“Please help me look,” she implores without looking up. “I know it’s right here, somewhere.”
The soldier, feeling some momentary sadness for the fate of the poor girl, complies. She’d have made an exceptionally fine barracks whore, he thinks to himself as he casts his eyes downward.
“Sorry, but I really don't see it anywhere. It's probably lost. Maybe it’s in that muddy area right next to the upright. Sure, you didn't lose it and then just piss all over it? Everybody pisses when crucified. But I ain’t picking nothing out of no pool of piss!”
"No, I'm sure,” she hisses between clenched teeth, her pretty face contorted in agony. “I pissed myself when they first nailed me. Not since."
"Well, my girl, you’ll be pissing lots more before this day is over. They'll keep you plenty watered. As long as you’re pissing you’re alive. And we want to keep you alive as long as possible. The day will be long for you. It’s supposed to be."
"I know, I know,” she says impatiently, her head rolling from side to side. “That's why I need to find it. I can't hang like this all day!"
"I know. But life's a bitch, ain't it! Shit, you have two of 'em, right? Just do without the other."
"Oh, no!” She shoots back. “That gives me such terrible headaches. Far worse than before my periods, especially if I’m expecting a really heavy flow and . . .”
The soldier holds up his hand with a disgusting look on his face. “Jeesh! Enough of that talk, girl. Way, way too much information. Don’t want to hear about it. Keep that shit to yourself, OK?”
The crucified girl starts sobbing. “Please, I just want to find it! I have to find it!” Her full, thrusting breasts bobble enticingly as her chest heaves. The soldier is staring at her tumescent nipples and getting very hard. The girl notices.
“Really? She moans. Her voice breaking. She looks at him with teary, angry eyes. “You’re getting a fucking erection? Now? Fuck you, you fucking Roman pig! Can’t you just focus on my problem. What the fuck! Can’t you just help me here?”
The soldier suddenly reaches between her legs, grabbing at her exposed genitals. He squeezes the soft, warm flesh between his powerful fingers as the girl, in shock, desperately tries to squirm away. But how can she? She has no way to escape. She’s crucified! Helpless! His fingers dig deeply into her vagina, tearing at her. She screams with the pain from the horrible violation of her body. She tries to push her body up to get away from him, but cannot. Then just as suddenly as he grabbed her he lets go and her body drops back down against the upright. She groans pitifully as waves of searing agony race through her body as she pushes and pulls on her nails. Quickly exhausted, her body heavily drops down against the upright, causing her to utter foul curses and cries of pain. Short spurts of hot urine squirt out her pee hole.
“Why? Why did you do that?” She wails, gasping for breath. Tears flow over her cheeks.
“You need to watch that mouth of yours, girl!” The soldier fires back sternly. “I fucking warned you! I don’t need to be doing this at all for you! You’re just a crucified twat! You’re dying here, bitch. Understand?"
“Yes, yes . . . I’m, I’m sorry, so sorry, sir!" The girl is blubbering, still trying to recover from the unexpected assault. Yet, she persists. " Would you please, just please look closer, sir? I really need to find it! Maybe get closer to the ground, on your knee? Oh, please help me!" The girl stares deeply into the soldier’s eyes, imploring his assistance.
"Don't be daft! I'm a soldier. I'm not about to get down on my hands and knees for some crucified cunt and look for her fucking . . ."
"There, there, I see it!" She shouts excitedly.
"Where?"
"By the tip of you left sandal. Oh, please be careful! Don't step on it! It's a real pale blue color."
"I don't see it, girl. Sorry."
"It's there I tell you. Take my word for it. It's not as though I can fucking point at it or anything. You assholes crucified me, remember!"
"Hey! What did I just say? Mind your tone with me.” He slaps her nearest breast, hard. “You want my help, you gotta be respectful!" He slaps her breast a few more times, watching her wince. The girl has a really hot body. She’d have made an awesome barracks whore. What a fucking waste, he thinks, to have crucified such a perfect little bitch as this!
"Sorry . . . sorry, sir. It's just that it hurts sooo much to hang like this. My arms and thighs are cramping something terrible! I got to push up but if I take my good eye off the ground I might not be able to find it back. Please, please sir. Look carefully. Don't you see it?"
The soldier reluctantly looks away from her naked body and back at the ground near the foot of her cross. "Hey, there it is! Yeah, yeah! Now I do.” He bends down to pick it up.
"Careful! Are your fingers clean?"
"Fuck! They're clean enough for any concern of yours, girl. And what does it matter to you at this point if they ain't? Here, I got it for you." He holds it up to her face. She smiles.
"Hurry, please! Just put it in my mouth so I can moisten it. Then you can put it back in.”
“Put it back in, but how?” He looks at her quizzically.
“It’s easy. I’ll tell you what to do. You can do it for me.”
The soldier slips the delicate clear disc between the girl’s parched lips and she closes her mouth around it. Groaning, she feels the urgent need to breathe deeply, having fought off the need for too long. Her slender, trembling legs begin to close and straighten as she slowly and agonizingly stands on the nails through her feet, pushing her body up and out on the cross as she prepares to inhale deeply. As she performs this long overdue movement her ass slides over to one side of the cross. Her shifted weight causes the whole cross to unexpectedly lurch a bit to one side. Not much, but it was an unexpected, sudden motion that sends a surge of fresh, raw agony flashes through her body. She’s felt her cross shift before, and dealt with the pain it causes, and just as before she yelps and reflexively sucks in her breath.
Almost immediately she cries out. “Fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“What’s wrong, now?” Inquires the soldier
“I swallowed it. I fucking swallowed it!” The girl tries to cough to bring the object up, but to no avail. It’s gone. Down into her stomach.
She drops heavily against the cross, screaming, her breasts bouncing nearly off her chest as she struggles in mindless fury. The soldier looks at her, feeling no compassion, as she quickly tires and slumps down. Sweat pours off her trembling body. Blood oozes even more from her wounds. Better get some water into her, the soldier thinks. Can’t let her get too dehydrated. She’s got a long, long day ahead of her.
As he walks away he hears her whisper in painful breaths. “Why? Why? I only wanted to be able to see. My mother and sisters are next to me. I just wanted to see them clearly!”
Well, you shouldn't have sucked in your breath like that, you silly twat! The soldier says to himself. All this trouble to find your fucking contact lens and now you go and swallow it? Well, fuck me, and fuck you! You’ll just have to manage with the one.
The crucified girl hangs sobbing as the soldier walks away laughing. “Who the fuck needs to wear contact lenses to a crucifixion? Silly fucking bitch . . .”
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Yeah, pretty lame ending, huh? But when I first saw this image I thought to myself that they seem to be looking at something on the ground. A contact lens, maybe?
I suppose it could have been written much better if she'd lost a necklace, or something more personal and precious to her than a contact lens! Fuck! What was I thinking?