The Girl With No Name

[thehangingtree]

only first-rate trusted people would be allowed to come...
Well, every guy at Crux Forums has just been excluded...

Tree

 

[Eulalia]

The thought of strip-searching all you lot has me in giggles

 

[jjj688]

As the pulley began to rattle and the cross fell, I was so filled with gratitude that I thought I would float away. Gone, at last! Thank Goodness! I was still crying when my cousin released me. She sat by me and and took me in her arms. "Cry," she said quietly, "you can cry, Lisette. After what you've had to endure, you can cry." She helped me get up, "Come on then, go and take a shower, okay? And then we’ll cycle over to the outdoor pool. You can relax there, swimming will be good for your strained muscles."

So that’s what we did. The pool wasn’t far. It was a bit too cool for the season, but I didn’t care, I ploughed through the water with my body, I splashed and dived. The spasms eased off quickly, I recovered in record time. Of my plan, never, never, never to go for three hours on the cross again, there was nothing left. Of course, I’d do another three hours that very afternoon!

"Just crazy!" said Dorothea when I told her, "I thought, you given up. It was really bad for you, wasn’t it?"

"Yes," I said. "I was suffering like never before…" I spoke with an anxious laugh, "but I liked it."

"Even when you were on the cross?"

I thought. "The whole thing is a bitcomplicated," I said, searching for words, and used the ones I’d read in a book, "I love the idea of the torment and torture. If I have to endure it, I’d do anything to get away. Yet when it's over, I love it again, and the worse the pain and the longer it lasted, the happier and more at ease I am."

"Pauline Réage," said Doro, "that's in ‘The Story of O’. Does it really feel that way? Is it how it is with you?"

I nodded. "Yes. Perhaps even more complicated. If I’m suffering, one part of me wants to get away, but another part is joyfully welcoming the pain. That part can’t get enough!" I proppedrested my head on her hand. " When you whipped me in the forest, it seemed quite mad. I was afraid, Doro, I was afraid of what was coming to me – yet I craved it. While I had to endure your thrashings, I’d have given anything to stop them, but then I was proud and happy to have endured them. That’s the way it is every time. On the cross too. It’s a very special kick, makes me totally euphoric, the harder it is, the greater the euphoria."

"You were so beautiful in your pain." Dorothea's voice was soft, her face took on a dreamy expression, her eyes began to shine.

"When you started to cry, my heart was torn, so beautiful you were, Lisette - I hope you’ll cry every time from now on. You wouldn’t believe what was happening to me when you collapsed…watching you there .... crazy! You were so sweet! It’s a pity that you can’t watch yourself."

We went again into the water. Then Doro took a brochure from her beach-bag, a travel brochure, New Zealand, our favourite topic. Unattainable, unfortunately, even for my cousin with her more than generous pocket money.

"Imagine, we could fly down there for three months after the summer holidays, " she said enthusiastically, "just you and me. We would explore everything., by train, with a car, and on foot. You can enjoy amazing walks there."

"Only that we have to find the missing wherewithal," I said, "otherwise we can’t do any such things."

"Perhaps…" Dorothea looked at me with her feline look, "I do know how we might get to have enough money."

"Like what? With a summer job? You can forget it! There are hardly any, and the pay’s far too. We’d need several thousand euros for a three month trip to New Zealand."

"We could get that together, Lisette," Dorothea's eyes flashed, "You'd have to go up on the cross in front of a paying audience, for a really long stretch."

"Before spectators?" I laughed, "Oh, sure!"

"Don’t just brush it aside, Lis," Doro remained persistent, "it would be feasible. We’d advertise anonymously on the internet. We’d recruit enough people who have the necessary dough, and rent an empty factory, or an old barn, or something like that. Then you'd be crucified naked before the eyes of the audience, and you’d have to endure it for a good long spell. Three hours wouldn’t be enough, that's shilly-shallying. Five or six hours should do the trick for you to make the jump – so they’d experience first hand how you collapse and begin to cry and plead., they’d be able to watch your dance of torment."

"You're batty," I said, blowing a raspberry. Actually, I got hot ears at the thought, imagining the scenario started a tingle it in my fanny, and not a msall one.

"But I'm not razy, Doro! They’d take pics of me and film everything and then the stuff would be all over the internet where all the world can look at it. No thanks, I don’t need that!"

"No, no," cried Dorothy. "It would be strictly controlled."

I had to wonder. Apparently she’d spent quite some time thinking about the matter. "They’d be hand-picked," she said, "only first-rate trusted people would be allowed to come They’d be strictly controlled – we’d have to have a sort of security chamber where they’d be searched.... strip-searched! If a woman has a wig, even that would be searched for mini cameras. They’ll only be allowed to watch, Lisette, videos and photos would betaboo. "

"Oh," I said, frowning, "and then all these folks stand around naked and look at me. Somehow that doesn’t sound very arousing."

Dorothea winked at me: "Only one will be naked, YOU! The others would get costumes once they have passed through the lock, maybe old-fashioned Rococo-style clothes."

Ironic! I glanced at Dorothea's feet. Rococo feet she’s already got!

"How about medieval clothes?" I asked. "They’re easier to obtain and they’re convenient and I find them somehow more appropriate." My heart was pounding, talking about such a crazy idea turned me on. Complete strangers would watch as I was stripped and bound and raised up on the cross. They’d see how I was dancing on the bar, as I started to sweat and whine. They’d see me cry. Maybe I’d completely break down and howl loudly, pleading. And pee! Oh dear! That too. Six hours without a toilet, that’s not possible. And all of this stark naked in front of the eyes of these people. Six hours, my cousin had said, six!

"Think about it," commanded Doro, and gave me a nudge.

"Let's go for another swim, then we’ll have to go home The cross is waiting for you.."

Yes!

 

[Eulalia]

I stood in the workshop in front of the cross. The open leather cuffs looked so inviting, come Lisette, we’ll hold you tight they seemed to be saying to me. Come on, girl, on the cross. Tell your time out loud and clear and we’ll hold you long, we shill not let you go, we promise. Dorothea came up behind me, she put her arms around me and rested her chin on my shoulder: "It's waiting for you, Lisette."

"Yes," I said simply.

"Three hours, Lisette?"

I swallowed. Three. Hours. Three hours. Had I really started with only a quarter of an hour? A few hours ago I’d planned to stop all that. But I wanted to climb higher, I wanted to outdo myself. So I nodded, "Three hours."

Doro kissed me on the cheek: "Do you remember what I said to you on Saturday, after your whipping in the forest? "

I remembered all too well. "You want to beat me before I go on the cross?"

"Mm," Dorothy said. "I want you to hang by your hands and be flogged with the whip. But really, Lisette, I want to see you cry. I want you to scream. I miss those beautiful weals all over your body, next day they’re gone."

I felt a shiver down my spine. Scream. She had actually said that. Cry.

"I'll get your gag," said my cousin, "so you’ll get to know him. Then you'll love him when we do it in future."

She pressed me, "It’s a special gag, it’s called a “tear-gag” because you can cry as much as you want and as loud as you like if you’re wearing it. A normal gag shuts your mouth, it makes you quiet and takes away your voice. But can you really breathe only through your nose. You know what happens when you start to cry, right? "

"My nose gets clogged up," I said, "not always, but ...."

"Exactly," Doro said,. "in the worst case, it could happen that you’d become short of breath, we don’t want that, right? I want to hurt you, but I don’t want anything to happen to you. I want to give you pain, increasing pain, but I don’t want to choke you. Tears! This gag has a valve so you can breathe through your mouth if you want, it opens as soon as you begin to scream but your cries are muffled like with any other gag.

"She let go of me and took a step back, "Take off your clothes, Lisette. I'm going to whip you."

With trembling knees I obeyed. Not a minute later I was standing naked in front of her. She tied my wrists together with a rope in front of my body. She held a loop of the rope and led me over to another set of tackle in the workshop. She hung the loop in the hook, for her to do this I had to stretch my arms above my head. Then she tied my feet together. She went and got the gag, it was a leather thing, she put it on me like a horse-bridle. In front a little ball-shaped piece was forced into my mouth. Behind my head she pulled the leather straps firmly.

"Say something!" commanded Doro.

"Gnn," I said.

"Louder!" she ordered.

"Gnnnn !!!" I was flabbergasted, I’d tried to yell really loud and all I brought forth was a miserable humming, a barely audible whimper.

"Wonderful," was my cousin’s opinion, she patted me. "This’ll keep the bubbles in the champagne!"

She went to the hoist and pulled the chain. I was stretched, she continued just long enough for me to be standing on the fronts of my feet. I watched as she brought the whip. I felt scared, she wants to beat me, to hit so hard that I cry and cry. The gag was pressing my tongue back, I was trying to speak but I couldn’t, I could do nothing to stop her - not that I believed that Doro would stop now. Even if I begged her, she’d still beat me, she wants to see me cry, she wants me cry! I was breathing frantically.

"Stop trembling so much," Dorothea said quietly, "it’s coming anyway. Let yourself go. Afterwards you’ll have a completely new experience when you go to the cross, it’ll hurt from the start. Then you'll love going up on the cross in pain, Lisette. And when the pain of your flogging gradually subsides, the pain of crucifixion will come to you."

I heard a high whining sound coming from me, I was ashamed of it, but I couldn’t prevent it. I whimpered. Now that it was far too late, I’d have liked to have given up and pulled myself away from the whipping. Dorothea came up behind me. Where would she strike first? On my calves again? I tensed up in my bonds in anticipation of the first blow. Loud, vicious whirring, I tensed up even more, a pitiful squeak escaped from me.

The whip hit me across the back, I let out a scream. To hear it was almost nothing, only a muffled noise. Another blow. Dorothea began to whip me systematically. She gave me notime to recover from each stroke, on the contrary she beat so fast I could do nothing more than wild twitching and twirling on the ropes. I arched my back and tried to pull myself by my wrist-bonds into the air. I yelled, I began to cry. By all the gods of Olympus, I couldn’t stand it any longer. No, it was too much!

"Stop it! Stop!!!" I cried, " Doro, you must stop, immediately!" All that came out was a pitiful "Gnnn! Gmm! Gnnnn!"

Dorothea did not stop. She began to circle me. With a loud crack the whip hit my back, my buttocks, thighs and breasts. I squirmed under indescribable tortures. The riding crop was three times as bad as the willow, it hurt appallingly, no strong man, never mind a mere girl, could endure. Impossible! Cease!!!

I struggled and squirmed, I heaved and reared, I cried and cried. The gag! It was horrible, its torment of not being able to shout out loud made the pain even more unbearable! Again and again the whip whizzed through the air, again and again she thrashed my bare skin, I shouted my throat hoarse, only no-one could hear these cries. None of my screams could come to fruition, they were nipped in the bud. I cried without ceasing, I tried to beg my cousin to stop, I was pleading with my eyes. whining and whimpering for mercy. None came. Dorothea went on whipping me.

I could feel no real time any more, only athe brief intervals between the strokes. My world consisted of a loud hum, everywhere on my body where it met on my naked skin, the cut of the lash and the explosions of pain in my flesh. I was dancing in my bondage, leaping, flexing my spine, throwing my head back. I went on screaming - or rather, trying to scream. The gag was incredible, it made the experience so much more intense, feeling the pain when you’re not allowed to scream loudly in your agony, when even one cry was denied.

Doro lashed me especially on my sides and my front, my breasts were exposed targets. I was feeling they were on fire. She didn’t let up, she was going on forever...

 

[Primus pilus]

I stood in the workshop in front of the cross. The open leather cuffs looked so inviting, come Lisette, we’ll hold you tight they seemed to be saying to me. Come on, girl, on the cross. Tell your time out loud and clear and we’ll hold you long, we shill not let you go, we promise. Dorothea came up behind me, she put her arms around me and rested her chin on my shoulder: "It's waiting for you, Lisette."

"Yes," I said simply.

"Three hours, Lisette?"

I swallowed. Three. Hours. Three hours. Had I really started with only a quarter of an hour? A few hours ago I’d planned to stop all that. But I wanted to climb higher, I wanted to outdo myself. So I nodded, "Three hours."

Doro kissed me on the cheek: "Do you remember what I said to you on Saturday, after your whipping in the forest? "

I remembered all too well. "You want to beat me before I go on the cross?"

"Mm," Dorothy said. "I want you to hang by your hands and be flogged with the whip. But really, Lisette, I want to see you cry. I want you to scream. I miss those beautiful weals all over your body, next day they’re gone."

I felt a shiver down my spine. Scream. She had actually said that. Cry.

"I'll get your gag," said my cousin, "so you’ll get to know him. Then you'll love him when we do it in future."

She pressed me, "It’s a special gag, it’s called a “tear-gag” because you can cry as much as you want and as loud as you like if you’re wearing it. A normal gag shuts your mouth, it makes you quiet and takes away your voice. But can you really breathe only through your nose. You know what happens when you start to cry, right? "

"My nose gets clogged up," I said, "not always, but ...."

"Exactly," Doro said,. "in the worst case, it could happen that you’d become short of breath, we don’t want that, right? I want to hurt you, but I don’t want anything to happen to you. I want to give you pain, increasing pain, but I don’t want to choke you. Tears! This gag has a valve so you can breathe through your mouth if you want, it opens as soon as you begin to scream but your cries are muffled like with any other gag.

"She let go of me and took a step back, "Take off your clothes, Lisette. I'm going to whip you."

With trembling knees I obeyed. Not a minute later I was standing naked in front of her. She tied my wrists together with a rope in front of my body. She held a loop of the rope and led me over to another set of tackle in the workshop. She hung the loop in the hook, for her to do this I had to stretch my arms above my head. Then she tied my feet together. She went and got the gag, it was a leather thing, she put it on me like a horse-bridle. In front a little ball-shaped piece was forced into my mouth. Behind my head she pulled the leather straps firmly.

"Say something!" commanded Doro.

"Gnn," I said.

"Louder!" she ordered.

"Gnnnn !!!" I was flabbergasted, I’d tried to yell really loud and all I brought forth was a miserable humming, a barely audible whimper.

"Wonderful," was my cousin’s opinion, she patted me. "This’ll keep the bubbles in the champagne!"

She went to the hoist and pulled the chain. I was stretched, she continued just long enough for me to be standing on the fronts of my feet. I watched as she brought the whip. I felt scared, she wants to beat me, to hit so hard that I cry and cry. The gag was pressing my tongue back, I was trying to speak but I couldn’t, I could do nothing to stop her - not that I believed that Doro would stop now. Even if I begged her, she’d still beat me, she wants to see me cry, she wants me cry! I was breathing frantically.

"Stop trembling so much," Dorothea said quietly, "it’s coming anyway. Let yourself go. Afterwards you’ll have a completely new experience when you go to the cross, it’ll hurt from the start. Then you'll love going up on the cross in pain, Lisette. And when the pain of your flogging gradually subsides, the pain of crucifixion will come to you."

I heard a high whining sound coming from me, I was ashamed of it, but I couldn’t prevent it. I whimpered. Now that it was far too late, I’d have liked to have given up and pulled myself away from the whipping. Dorothea came up behind me. Where would she strike first? On my calves again? I tensed up in my bonds in anticipation of the first blow. Loud, vicious whirring, I tensed up even more, a pitiful squeak escaped from me.

The whip hit me across the back, I let out a scream. To hear it was almost nothing, only a muffled noise. Another blow. Dorothea began to whip me systematically. She gave me notime to recover from each stroke, on the contrary she beat so fast I could do nothing more than wild twitching and twirling on the ropes. I arched my back and tried to pull myself by my wrist-bonds into the air. I yelled, I began to cry. By all the gods of Olympus, I couldn’t stand it any longer. No, it was too much!

"Stop it! Stop!!!" I cried, " Doro, you must stop, immediately!" All that came out was a pitiful "Gnnn! Gmm! Gnnnn!"

Dorothea did not stop. She began to circle me. With a loud crack the whip hit my back, my buttocks, thighs and breasts. I squirmed under indescribable tortures. The riding crop was three times as bad as the willow, it hurt appallingly, no strong man, never mind a mere girl, could endure. Impossible! Cease!!!

I struggled and squirmed, I heaved and reared, I cried and cried. The gag! It was horrible, its torment of not being able to shout out loud made the pain even more unbearable! Again and again the whip whizzed through the air, again and again she thrashed my bare skin, I shouted my throat hoarse, only no-one could hear these cries. None of my screams could come to fruition, they were nipped in the bud. I cried without ceasing, I tried to beg my cousin to stop, I was pleading with my eyes. whining and whimpering for mercy. None came. Dorothea went on whipping me.

I could feel no real time any more, only athe brief intervals between the strokes. My world consisted of a loud hum, everywhere on my body where it met on my naked skin, the cut of the lash and the explosions of pain in my flesh. I was dancing in my bondage, leaping, flexing my spine, throwing my head back. I went on screaming - or rather, trying to scream. The gag was incredible, it made the experience so much more intense, feeling the pain when you’re not allowed to scream loudly in your agony, when even one cry was denied.

Doro lashed me especially on my sides and my front, my breasts were exposed targets. I was feeling they were on fire. She didn’t let up, she was going on forever...

"She let go of me and took a step back, "Take off your clothes, Lisette. I'm going to whip you." As he read this Pp uncoiled his whip and wanted to become Dorothea.

 

[Eulalia]

And as she typed her translation, eul wanted to become Lisette

 

[Barbaria1]

I stood in the workshop in front of the cross. The open leather cuffs looked so inviting, come Lisette, we’ll hold you tight they seemed to be saying to me. Come on, girl, on the cross. Tell your time out loud and clear and we’ll hold you long, we shill not let you go, we promise. Dorothea came up behind me, she put her arms around me and rested her chin on my shoulder: "It's waiting for you, Lisette."

"Yes," I said simply.

"Three hours, Lisette?"

I swallowed. Three. Hours. Three hours. Had I really started with only a quarter of an hour? A few hours ago I’d planned to stop all that. But I wanted to climb higher, I wanted to outdo myself. So I nodded, "Three hours."

Doro kissed me on the cheek: "Do you remember what I said to you on Saturday, after your whipping in the forest? "

I remembered all too well. "You want to beat me before I go on the cross?"

"Mm," Dorothy said. "I want you to hang by your hands and be flogged with the whip. But really, Lisette, I want to see you cry. I want you to scream. I miss those beautiful weals all over your body, next day they’re gone."

I felt a shiver down my spine. Scream. She had actually said that. Cry.

"I'll get your gag," said my cousin, "so you’ll get to know him. Then you'll love him when we do it in future."

She pressed me, "It’s a special gag, it’s called a “tear-gag” because you can cry as much as you want and as loud as you like if you’re wearing it. A normal gag shuts your mouth, it makes you quiet and takes away your voice. But can you really breathe only through your nose. You know what happens when you start to cry, right? "

"My nose gets clogged up," I said, "not always, but ...."

"Exactly," Doro said,. "in the worst case, it could happen that you’d become short of breath, we don’t want that, right? I want to hurt you, but I don’t want anything to happen to you. I want to give you pain, increasing pain, but I don’t want to choke you. Tears! This gag has a valve so you can breathe through your mouth if you want, it opens as soon as you begin to scream but your cries are muffled like with any other gag.

"She let go of me and took a step back, "Take off your clothes, Lisette. I'm going to whip you."

With trembling knees I obeyed. Not a minute later I was standing naked in front of her. She tied my wrists together with a rope in front of my body. She held a loop of the rope and led me over to another set of tackle in the workshop. She hung the loop in the hook, for her to do this I had to stretch my arms above my head. Then she tied my feet together. She went and got the gag, it was a leather thing, she put it on me like a horse-bridle. In front a little ball-shaped piece was forced into my mouth. Behind my head she pulled the leather straps firmly.

"Say something!" commanded Doro.

"Gnn," I said.

"Louder!" she ordered.

"Gnnnn !!!" I was flabbergasted, I’d tried to yell really loud and all I brought forth was a miserable humming, a barely audible whimper.

"Wonderful," was my cousin’s opinion, she patted me. "This’ll keep the bubbles in the champagne!"

She went to the hoist and pulled the chain. I was stretched, she continued just long enough for me to be standing on the fronts of my feet. I watched as she brought the whip. I felt scared, she wants to beat me, to hit so hard that I cry and cry. The gag was pressing my tongue back, I was trying to speak but I couldn’t, I could do nothing to stop her - not that I believed that Doro would stop now. Even if I begged her, she’d still beat me, she wants to see me cry, she wants me cry! I was breathing frantically.

"Stop trembling so much," Dorothea said quietly, "it’s coming anyway. Let yourself go. Afterwards you’ll have a completely new experience when you go to the cross, it’ll hurt from the start. Then you'll love going up on the cross in pain, Lisette. And when the pain of your flogging gradually subsides, the pain of crucifixion will come to you."

I heard a high whining sound coming from me, I was ashamed of it, but I couldn’t prevent it. I whimpered. Now that it was far too late, I’d have liked to have given up and pulled myself away from the whipping. Dorothea came up behind me. Where would she strike first? On my calves again? I tensed up in my bonds in anticipation of the first blow. Loud, vicious whirring, I tensed up even more, a pitiful squeak escaped from me.

The whip hit me across the back, I let out a scream. To hear it was almost nothing, only a muffled noise. Another blow. Dorothea began to whip me systematically. She gave me notime to recover from each stroke, on the contrary she beat so fast I could do nothing more than wild twitching and twirling on the ropes. I arched my back and tried to pull myself by my wrist-bonds into the air. I yelled, I began to cry. By all the gods of Olympus, I couldn’t stand it any longer. No, it was too much!

"Stop it! Stop!!!" I cried, " Doro, you must stop, immediately!" All that came out was a pitiful "Gnnn! Gmm! Gnnnn!"

Dorothea did not stop. She began to circle me. With a loud crack the whip hit my back, my buttocks, thighs and breasts. I squirmed under indescribable tortures. The riding crop was three times as bad as the willow, it hurt appallingly, no strong man, never mind a mere girl, could endure. Impossible! Cease!!!

I struggled and squirmed, I heaved and reared, I cried and cried. The gag! It was horrible, its torment of not being able to shout out loud made the pain even more unbearable! Again and again the whip whizzed through the air, again and again she thrashed my bare skin, I shouted my throat hoarse, only no-one could hear these cries. None of my screams could come to fruition, they were nipped in the bud. I cried without ceasing, I tried to beg my cousin to stop, I was pleading with my eyes. whining and whimpering for mercy. None came. Dorothea went on whipping me.

I could feel no real time any more, only athe brief intervals between the strokes. My world consisted of a loud hum, everywhere on my body where it met on my naked skin, the cut of the lash and the explosions of pain in my flesh. I was dancing in my bondage, leaping, flexing my spine, throwing my head back. I went on screaming - or rather, trying to scream. The gag was incredible, it made the experience so much more intense, feeling the pain when you’re not allowed to scream loudly in your agony, when even one cry was denied.

Doro lashed me especially on my sides and my front, my breasts were exposed targets. I was feeling they were on fire. She didn’t let up, she was going on forever...

Nothing like a whipping hanging from the wrists to excite me on a morning....liked this one a lot.

 

[Eulalia]

When she finally stopped, I broke down crying, hanging from the bondage. If the ropes hadn’t been holding me, I’d have fallen on my knees. My cousin made me stay hanging on the hook for quite a long time, so I could calm down. I cried copiously, while the pain spread over my body and penetrated deeper. But my tears dried up eventually. When I bent my head forward I found my body was covered with dark red weals. Although they hurt me, I was pleased with the sight, they showed clearly what I’d just been through.

Dorothea came, she took me off the restraints and set me free. She led me to the cross and got a glass of water for me,

"Drink, Lisette. It’s going to be the same. "

"Thankyou," I sighed, and drank the glass empty.

She looked at me from all sides, "A pretty sight you are, with your fresh bruises."

We were both of the same opinion! I laid down carefully on the cross. Ouch! My bottom! My back! Ooooooooooo! It didn’t help, my cruel cousin strapped me down on the cross. She leaned down to me and gave me a peck on the lips,

"Three hours, you crux-kid. Enjoy your suffering!"

She went to the pulley and hauled up. Another three hours, I thought as I hung upright. And with the pain in the butt! I lowered my head and looked at my body, stripes everywhere I looked.

"You are beautiful," Dorothea said from below, "maybe I should do that to you as well, when you go public on the cross. It would certainly appeal to the audience if you were to be whipped before your crucifixion, then they wouldn’t have to wait so long before they heard you scream." Doro’s eyes lit up, "In the public performance, of course, we wouldn’t use a gag."

Whipping before I was strapped to the cross, oh my gods and goddesses! But I didn’t find pleasure in it as it went on? Of course, I was in pain, but it had long since become bearable, it was like salt in the soup. I didn’t need it every day, but every now and then perhaps, I told Dorothea. She smiled up at me,

"We can even make it so that you decide immediately before the crucifixion, if you’ll accept the whip, Lisette. The audience needn’t be told anything, then they won’t be disappointed if you go to the cross without being flogged. But if you do agree, you’ll be flogged till you’re roasted to a turn! But with a proper whip made of leather."

"Not a bull whip?" I said hastily, "That would be too much!"

"Of course not," said Doro. "I don’t want to beat your skin into shreds, I only want you to wear pretty stripes, and make you move neatly under the whip. That would be a wonderful spectacle for the audience."

"Well, I’ll think about it!" I said it as a joke, but deep inside me, I was thinking very seriously about it after all. We went on talking for a while about my public crucifixion. We did it jokingly, but I saw the light in Doro’s eyes. Finally she went over to her painting table. Her landscape was almost finished, soon she’d have to start a new picture.

I closed my eyes and gave myself up to the crucifixion. I felt the pain of the flogging, and allowed a little movie to run in my head. I was the unfortunate princess - a fantasy born when I was thirteen and extended every year and remade with the older, now blossoming leading actress, Lisette Lange!

Princess Lisette lived in a medieval castle and her father had been killed in a war. The lord of the castle, her mother's new husband, was a cruel man who constantly punished her. His favourite punishment was the public crucifixion of the poor princess in the middle of the courtyard. First, Lisette was stripped naked and flogged, and then fastened to the cross - with iron! With thick, rusty iron bands, that waited for her open like traps. They put Lisette on her back and spread her arms. The iron clamps shut squeaky on her delicate wrists, and the castle executioner locked them with padlocks. Then her ankles were enclosed in just the same sort of irons. Below these her soles had little support on a sloping footrest. Then the cross was raised to vertical, and the poor princess had from noon until evening to hang in the irons, which hurt exceedingly.

Lisette slumped on the cross. Gorgeous fantasy. Gorgeous pain. Proper pain. Pain. He was there. My faithful friend, Mr. Pain. As always, he came slowly, creeping and crawling around me like a cat, purring, rubbing against me, drawing from me a first moan, soon a gasp, then a whimper or two... The pain of the flogging had still not completely subsided. The two pains got together and made life difficult for me. They made me pant and dance, I was sweating. My legs, which I was having to press more often to relieve the terrible strain on my arms, began to tremble.

How it had got to me I only became aware when Dorothea got up and stood expectantly, watching me. Already tears were flowing, I couldn’t stop them. This time I wasn’t ashamed of them, I was hurting, I could cry.

"Doro, give me some water," I whispered. My mouth was dry. Immediately my cousin brought me something to drink. She put a chair in front of me and stepped up. In small sips, I drank the proffered refreshment. I looked at her through tearful eyes,

"You don’t refuse me a drink?"

"You hadn’t asked for it," she said, "If you’d asked for it before, you’d have got nothing, that would have been an additional torture."

"Thank you… I won’t…" I gasped.

"So, just this once," Doro said and stepped down from the chair. She pushed it to the side and showed me the glass. Then she stayed down there and watched as I suffered. There’s no limit, everything she wanted to watch she could observe closely, I could do nothing about it, absolutely nothing. I felt very helpless. Yet even with the ever-increasing pain that was making me dance on the cross, there still danced in my head a little captive Lisette who shouted for joy, because what was happening to her was what she’d wanted for years.

A whimper in my mouth, my mouth said "Ow!" My body writhed in ecstasies of pain, but my soul was singing. I went on crying until it was all over. Only when I was in the house in the shower, which I’d set just lukewarm because of my scars, did I stop crying. When I was freshly showered and appeared in fresh clothes, the pain had become a joyful memory in my heart, I was ready for more.

 

[Barbaria1]

When she finally stopped, I broke down crying, hanging from the bondage. If the ropes hadn’t been holding me, I’d have fallen on my knees. My cousin made me stay hanging on the hook for quite a long time, so I could calm down. I cried copiously, while the pain spread over my body and penetrated deeper. But my tears dried up eventually. When I bent my head forward I found my body was covered with dark red weals. Although they hurt me, I was pleased with the sight, they showed clearly what I’d just been through.

Dorothea came, she took me off the restraints and set me free. She led me to the cross and got a glass of water for me,

"Drink, Lisette. It’s going to be the same. "

"Thankyou," I sighed, and drank the glass empty.

She looked at me from all sides, "A pretty sight you are, with your fresh bruises."

We were both of the same opinion! I laid down carefully on the cross. Ouch! My bottom! My back! Ooooooooooo! It didn’t help, my cruel cousin strapped me down on the cross. She leaned down to me and gave me a peck on the lips,

"Three hours, you crux-kid. Enjoy your suffering!"

She went to the pulley and hauled up. Another three hours, I thought as I hung upright. And with the pain in the butt! I lowered my head and looked at my body, stripes everywhere I looked.

"You are beautiful," Dorothea said from below, "maybe I should do that to you as well, when you go public on the cross. It would certainly appeal to the audience if you were to be whipped before your crucifixion, then they wouldn’t have to wait so long before they heard you scream." Doro’s eyes lit up, "In the public performance, of course, we wouldn’t use a gag."

Whipping before I was strapped to the cross, oh my gods and goddesses! But I didn’t find pleasure in it as it went on? Of course, I was in pain, but it had long since become bearable, it was like salt in the soup. I didn’t need it every day, but every now and then perhaps, I told Dorothea. She smiled up at me,

"We can even make it so that you decide immediately before the crucifixion, if you’ll accept the whip, Lisette. The audience needn’t be told anything, then they won’t be disappointed if you go to the cross without being flogged. But if you do agree, you’ll be flogged till you’re roasted to a turn! But with a proper whip made of leather."

"Not a bull whip?" I said hastily, "That would be too much!"

"Of course not," said Doro. "I don’t want to beat your skin into shreds, I only want you to wear pretty stripes, and make you move neatly under the whip. That would be a wonderful spectacle for the audience."

"Well, I’ll think about it!" I said it as a joke, but deep inside me, I was thinking very seriously about it after all. We went on talking for a while about my public crucifixion. We did it jokingly, but I saw the light in Doro’s eyes. Finally she went over to her painting table. Her landscape was almost finished, soon she’d have to start a new picture.

I closed my eyes and gave myself up to the crucifixion. I felt the pain of the flogging, and allowed a little movie to run in my head. I was the unfortunate princess - a fantasy born when I was thirteen and extended every year and remade with the older, now blossoming leading actress, Lisette Lange!

Princess Lisette lived in a medieval castle and her father had been killed in a war. The lord of the castle, her mother's new husband, was a cruel man who constantly punished her. His favourite punishment was the public crucifixion of the poor princess in the middle of the courtyard. First, Lisette was stripped naked and flogged, and then fastened to the cross - with iron! With thick, rusty iron bands, that waited for her open like traps. They put Lisette on her back and spread her arms. The iron clamps shut squeaky on her delicate wrists, and the castle executioner locked them with padlocks. Then her ankles were enclosed in just the same sort of irons. Below these her soles had little support on a sloping footrest. Then the cross was raised to vertical, and the poor princess had from noon until evening to hang in the irons, which hurt exceedingly.

Lisette slumped on the cross. Gorgeous fantasy. Gorgeous pain. Proper pain. Pain. He was there. My faithful friend, Mr. Pain. As always, he came slowly, creeping and crawling around me like a cat, purring, rubbing against me, drawing from me a first moan, soon a gasp, then a whimper or two... The pain of the flogging had still not completely subsided. The two pains got together and made life difficult for me. They made me pant and dance, I was sweating. My legs, which I was having to press more often to relieve the terrible strain on my arms, began to tremble.

How it had got to me I only became aware when Dorothea got up and stood expectantly, watching me. Already tears were flowing, I couldn’t stop them. This time I wasn’t ashamed of them, I was hurting, I could cry.

"Doro, give me some water," I whispered. My mouth was dry. Immediately my cousin brought me something to drink. She put a chair in front of me and stepped up. In small sips, I drank the proffered refreshment. I looked at her through tearful eyes,

"You don’t refuse me a drink?"

"You hadn’t asked for it," she said, "If you’d asked for it before, you’d have got nothing, that would have been an additional torture."

"Thank you… I won’t…" I gasped.

"So, just this once," Doro said and stepped down from the chair. She pushed it to the side and showed me the glass. Then she stayed down there and watched as I suffered. There’s no limit, everything she wanted to watch she could observe closely, I could do nothing about it, absolutely nothing. I felt very helpless. Yet even with the ever-increasing pain that was making me dance on the cross, there still danced in my head a little captive Lisette who shouted for joy, because what was happening to her was what she’d wanted for years.

A whimper in my mouth, my mouth said "Ow!" My body writhed in ecstasies of pain, but my soul was singing. I went on crying until it was all over. Only when I was in the house in the shower, which I’d set just lukewarm because of my scars, did I stop crying. When I was freshly showered and appeared in fresh clothes, the pain had become a joyful memory in my heart, I was ready for more.

"A little movie in her head" .... I like that .... don't we all run little movies in our heads? Mmmmmmm

 

[Primus pilus]

When she finally stopped, I broke down crying, hanging from the bondage. If the ropes hadn’t been holding me, I’d have fallen on my knees. My cousin made me stay hanging on the hook for quite a long time, so I could calm down. I cried copiously, while the pain spread over my body and penetrated deeper. But my tears dried up eventually. When I bent my head forward I found my body was covered with dark red weals. Although they hurt me, I was pleased with the sight, they showed clearly what I’d just been through.

Dorothea came, she took me off the restraints and set me free. She led me to the cross and got a glass of water for me,

"Drink, Lisette. It’s going to be the same. "

"Thankyou," I sighed, and drank the glass empty.

She looked at me from all sides, "A pretty sight you are, with your fresh bruises."

We were both of the same opinion! I laid down carefully on the cross. Ouch! My bottom! My back! Ooooooooooo! It didn’t help, my cruel cousin strapped me down on the cross. She leaned down to me and gave me a peck on the lips,

"Three hours, you crux-kid. Enjoy your suffering!"

She went to the pulley and hauled up. Another three hours, I thought as I hung upright. And with the pain in the butt! I lowered my head and looked at my body, stripes everywhere I looked.

"You are beautiful," Dorothea said from below, "maybe I should do that to you as well, when you go public on the cross. It would certainly appeal to the audience if you were to be whipped before your crucifixion, then they wouldn’t have to wait so long before they heard you scream." Doro’s eyes lit up, "In the public performance, of course, we wouldn’t use a gag."

Whipping before I was strapped to the cross, oh my gods and goddesses! But I didn’t find pleasure in it as it went on? Of course, I was in pain, but it had long since become bearable, it was like salt in the soup. I didn’t need it every day, but every now and then perhaps, I told Dorothea. She smiled up at me,

"We can even make it so that you decide immediately before the crucifixion, if you’ll accept the whip, Lisette. The audience needn’t be told anything, then they won’t be disappointed if you go to the cross without being flogged. But if you do agree, you’ll be flogged till you’re roasted to a turn! But with a proper whip made of leather."

"Not a bull whip?" I said hastily, "That would be too much!"

"Of course not," said Doro. "I don’t want to beat your skin into shreds, I only want you to wear pretty stripes, and make you move neatly under the whip. That would be a wonderful spectacle for the audience."

"Well, I’ll think about it!" I said it as a joke, but deep inside me, I was thinking very seriously about it after all. We went on talking for a while about my public crucifixion. We did it jokingly, but I saw the light in Doro’s eyes. Finally she went over to her painting table. Her landscape was almost finished, soon she’d have to start a new picture.

I closed my eyes and gave myself up to the crucifixion. I felt the pain of the flogging, and allowed a little movie to run in my head. I was the unfortunate princess - a fantasy born when I was thirteen and extended every year and remade with the older, now blossoming leading actress, Lisette Lange!

Princess Lisette lived in a medieval castle and her father had been killed in a war. The lord of the castle, her mother's new husband, was a cruel man who constantly punished her. His favourite punishment was the public crucifixion of the poor princess in the middle of the courtyard. First, Lisette was stripped naked and flogged, and then fastened to the cross - with iron! With thick, rusty iron bands, that waited for her open like traps. They put Lisette on her back and spread her arms. The iron clamps shut squeaky on her delicate wrists, and the castle executioner locked them with padlocks. Then her ankles were enclosed in just the same sort of irons. Below these her soles had little support on a sloping footrest. Then the cross was raised to vertical, and the poor princess had from noon until evening to hang in the irons, which hurt exceedingly.

Lisette slumped on the cross. Gorgeous fantasy. Gorgeous pain. Proper pain. Pain. He was there. My faithful friend, Mr. Pain. As always, he came slowly, creeping and crawling around me like a cat, purring, rubbing against me, drawing from me a first moan, soon a gasp, then a whimper or two... The pain of the flogging had still not completely subsided. The two pains got together and made life difficult for me. They made me pant and dance, I was sweating. My legs, which I was having to press more often to relieve the terrible strain on my arms, began to tremble.

How it had got to me I only became aware when Dorothea got up and stood expectantly, watching me. Already tears were flowing, I couldn’t stop them. This time I wasn’t ashamed of them, I was hurting, I could cry.

"Doro, give me some water," I whispered. My mouth was dry. Immediately my cousin brought me something to drink. She put a chair in front of me and stepped up. In small sips, I drank the proffered refreshment. I looked at her through tearful eyes,

"You don’t refuse me a drink?"

"You hadn’t asked for it," she said, "If you’d asked for it before, you’d have got nothing, that would have been an additional torture."

"Thank you… I won’t…" I gasped.

"So, just this once," Doro said and stepped down from the chair. She pushed it to the side and showed me the glass. Then she stayed down there and watched as I suffered. There’s no limit, everything she wanted to watch she could observe closely, I could do nothing about it, absolutely nothing. I felt very helpless. Yet even with the ever-increasing pain that was making me dance on the cross, there still danced in my head a little captive Lisette who shouted for joy, because what was happening to her was what she’d wanted for years.

A whimper in my mouth, my mouth said "Ow!" My body writhed in ecstasies of pain, but my soul was singing. I went on crying until it was all over. Only when I was in the house in the shower, which I’d set just lukewarm because of my scars, did I stop crying. When I was freshly showered and appeared in fresh clothes, the pain had become a joyful memory in my heart, I was ready for more.

Pp looks forward to seeing Lisette "move neatly under the whip" but, for now, he is enjoying her experience of the post-crop pain.

 

[Eulalia]

21 Hiking barefoot with nipple clamps

When I stood naked in the morning in front of the cross, the weals from yesterday’s whipping had disappeared, they existed only in my mind, in my soul. My cousin smiled at me encouragingly, "Today, three and a half hours, Lisette?"

Three and a half? Half an hour more than the day before? She noticed my dubious look,

"We’ve not got enough time for two sessions, Lis. We want to go to the Blessed Virgin Chapel in Kehlwangen. Even if we go by train - the walk back takes too long. You can only be crucified once today."

She came up to me. "If you're afraid you’ll scream, you can wear the gag."

I shook my head, not the cruel gag, not today. "I don’t want it,” I said. "not today. And no lashes before." I ran my fingers over my thigh, "You can’t see anything, but I’m still feeling yesterday’s flogging a bit."

Dorothee's eyes were filled with compassion, "Oh Lisette," she hugged me, "Is it so bad? If it is, we can delay your crucifixion."

I returned her hug, "It’s not that bad, I can stand it, I can just still feel it quite clearly." I looked at her, "I’ll do three and a half hours on the cross, then we’ll go to Kehlwangen."

"You’re crazy," whispered Doro, and kissed me on the cheek Then she led me gently to the cross. "Come, Lisette, it’s time to suffer."

Time to suffer - what an expression! These three words said so much! I lay down on the cross and gave up control of myself to my cousin. She strapped me and hauled me up. As always, I felt so happy I could have sung for joy. Crucified! At last! Ohhhh! I had to think back to the first day, to my shyness when Doro had persuaded me to take off my clothes, and I kept my panties on, she’d taken them off me after she’d tied my arms to the crossbar! By now it was completely normal for me to strip naked to go on the cross, I would even refuse to keep my panties or even to wear a bikini. I could only enjoy it properly in the nude, experiencing my total helplessness. Only naked could I feel the smooth wood that was holding me captive, on naked could I enjoy the feeling of being on display. This was part of it, the desire to be humiliated. I thought about Doros insane proposal for me to go on the cross in front of a group of paying spectators. The idea had something, it turned me on.

Anyway, I was very excited as always at the beginning of my crucifixions, and the idea of being exposed naked in front of spectators reinforced this excitement still more. I began to think seriously about this plan - not only because I wanted to fly with my cousin to New Zealand, but also because the idea of suffering on the cross for the pleasure of strangers excited me beyond measure. I was soaking wet and squirming slowly on the bar.

I felt the smooth wood of the footrest under my bare feet, my most intense point of contact with the cross. There were crucifixions where the feet of the crucified dangled in the air. I had researched all possible ways on the internet. I liked them all without exception, but being strapped to the cross as I was, I liked that the most.

Dorothea was standing in front of me and looking at me, she was loving it, seeing my naked body strapped to the cross. Would strangers look at me the same way? With wide eyes in which glowed a mixture of hunger and desire? Would I look attractive in their eyes? You can figure it out, Lisette, you just have to agree, Doro will take care of everything, she’s a born organizer. I leaned back against the wood, and dropped my head on my left shoulder. I'll think about it, I made up my mind.

Three and a half hours this morning. Half an hour longer than yesterday. Initially I’d been raised up for a quarter of an hour. Soon to half an hour. Would more hours follow soon? I shuddered at the thought. Five hours. Six hours. And then? Even longer? Could I do that? Certainly - the ancient Romans crucified disobedient slaves from morning to night, up to twelve hours. Again a shudder ran through me, twelve hours, a monstrous time! How often would I break down crying? How would I bear the thirst if I got nothing to drink? Would there be quiet hours among the crises? Would I cry out at some point until my throat was sore?

"You look beautiful," said Dorothea from below, 'as always, when you’re crucified, Lis." She smiled, "The ancient Romans had it good, they could buy pretty slaves and crucify them to their hearts’ content.” Her face took on a dreamy expression. "If I were a rich Roman lady, I’d buy myself me a whole coffle of pretty slaves, they’d have to take turns on the cross in the yard, where I could watch them as they writhe in sweet agony. I’d listen and watch them weeping and writhing."

"Actually, crucifixion was indeed a punishment," I said. Doro’s words had upset me. "It was used to discipline slaves. Nailing, on the other hand, was intended as a deterrent death penalty for criminals and rebels."

"Why nailed?" asked Doro, "Okay, it hurts so much that a crucified man screams like a monkey from the start, as a scare it would work really well. If I saw a man dying in that horrific way, any temptation to rebel would soon pass away. But bound with ropes, it would last much longer, victims would take much longer to die. "

"The nails had another purpose," I said.,"They nailed the condemned ones to the cross so that they couldn’t be stolen at night."

"Stolen?" exclaimed Doro open-mouthed.

"Yes of course,", I said, "to sell as slaves, it was a lucrative business. One who’s only bound to the cross with ropes could easily be cut down, they’d have to mount a guard-squad around the clock so they wouldn’t be stolen. But a person who's skewered with nails on the cross, you can’t get off so easily, and, more importantly, they’d no longer be any use as slaves, they’d be so badly injured that you’d have a costly business maintaining them if they survived at all. They’d probably be crippled – they had the nails driven through their wrists, important nerves were destroyed. Someone who’d been snatched from a cross would no longer be able to use their hands properly, they'd be no good as a slave."

Dorothea came to me and stroked my feet, "You know everything about it, Lis! I bet you've gathered all the information you could find on the internet."

I thought of my ‘special’ folder and nodded... "Yes, I've collected everything I could find. Really, bound crucifixion was only used as a disciplinary measure. If a disobedient slave was tied up on the cross in the yard of a villa, no other slave would dare to liberate him."

"You always speak only of men." Doro sounded disappointed.

"No," I shook my head. "I mean both sexes, it was also done to female slaves. Of course they were naked. It was worse for them, because of the shame."

"Fine," said Doro, stroking my bare feet.

"You mustn’t imagine that’s what’s happening to me here with you, though." I continued, "Don’t believe that when slaves were exposed like that it was pleasant for them - on the contrary, it was supposed to be a deterrent punishment. They didn’t take much care with a disobedient slavegirl." I used ‘slavegirl’ intentionally, it seemed important for her that female slaves were crucified. "Pictures show their limbs bound on the crossbar, their arms stretched as much as possible, and the ropes tied so tightly they couldn’t move. And their feet were bound differently. Then the poor thing hung all day long on the cross crying, and the other slaves looked on while she had to endure the endless torment.”

“There were other cross-shapes, too. The so-called tau-cross was common. On that one the arms of the slavegirl were laid along the on top, then pulled back a bit and down. They could tie just her wrists, or bind her arms in several places - either way of course she’d be cruelly fixed! Her feet hung right and left of the upright, but don’t suppose the girl’s ankles were tied with thick turns of rope, so they weren’t pressed directly against the wood – oh no, they forced her ankles against the wood on both sides of the post, then tied the rope around them; only after that did they bind it several times between pole and her shins, so as to prevent the poor girl from pulling her feet out of the bondage. Imagine how that hurt after a while!”

“They also had special square bar. The upright stake was square, and at the top it was grooved - it had a kind of depression that looked from the side like an upside-down triangle. They set the cross bar in that, so the edges of the four-sided beam faced up, to the front and behind. If your arms were tied very tightly to such an edged beam, you’d have suffered tremendous pain. A slavegirl bondaged like that went through hell, her arms and wrists ached unbearably, and her ankles too, they were pressed terribly hard against the wood of the upright. She’d have screamed all day long with pain. By evening she’d be determined to be super-good and as totally obedient!"

"Yes," said Dorothy, "obedient!" She looked up at me. "Well, I’m glad you’ve explained all that, Lis, it was really nice." Her eyes were glowing. She went to her drawing table and went on putting finishing touches to her flower-meadow.

 

[Barbaria1]

21 Hiking barefoot with nipple clamps

When I stood naked in the morning in front of the cross, the weals from yesterday’s whipping had disappeared, they existed only in my mind, in my soul. My cousin smiled at me encouragingly, "Today, three and a half hours, Lisette?"

Three and a half? Half an hour more than the day before? She noticed my dubious look,

"We’ve not got enough time for two sessions, Lis. We want to go to the Blessed Virgin Chapel in Kehlwangen. Even if we go by train - the walk back takes too long. You can only be crucified once today."

She came up to me. "If you're afraid you’ll scream, you can wear the gag."

I shook my head, not the cruel gag, not today. "I don’t want it,” I said. "not today. And no lashes before." I ran my fingers over my thigh, "You can’t see anything, but I’m still feeling yesterday’s flogging a bit."

Dorothee's eyes were filled with compassion, "Oh Lisette," she hugged me, "Is it so bad? If it is, we can delay your crucifixion."

I returned her hug, "It’s not that bad, I can stand it, I can just still feel it quite clearly." I looked at her, "I’ll do three and a half hours on the cross, then we’ll go to Kehlwangen."

"You’re crazy," whispered Doro, and kissed me on the cheek Then she led me gently to the cross. "Come, Lisette, it’s time to suffer."

Time to suffer - what an expression! These three words said so much! I lay down on the cross and gave up control of myself to my cousin. She strapped me and hauled me up. As always, I felt so happy I could have sung for joy. Crucified! At last! Ohhhh! I had to think back to the first day, to my shyness when Doro had persuaded me to take off my clothes, and I kept my panties on, she’d taken them off me after she’d tied my arms to the crossbar! By now it was completely normal for me to strip naked to go on the cross, I would even refuse to keep my panties or even to wear a bikini. I could only enjoy it properly in the nude, experiencing my total helplessness. Only naked could I feel the smooth wood that was holding me captive, on naked could I enjoy the feeling of being on display. This was part of it, the desire to be humiliated. I thought about Doros insane proposal for me to go on the cross in front of a group of paying spectators. The idea had something, it turned me on.

Anyway, I was very excited as always at the beginning of my crucifixions, and the idea of being exposed naked in front of spectators reinforced this excitement still more. I began to think seriously about this plan - not only because I wanted to fly with my cousin to New Zealand, but also because the idea of suffering on the cross for the pleasure of strangers excited me beyond measure. I was soaking wet and squirming slowly on the bar.

I felt the smooth wood of the footrest under my bare feet, my most intense point of contact with the cross. There were crucifixions where the feet of the crucified dangled in the air. I had researched all possible ways on the internet. I liked them all without exception, but being strapped to the cross as I was, I liked that the most.

Dorothea was standing in front of me and looking at me, she was loving it, seeing my naked body strapped to the cross. Would strangers look at me the same way? With wide eyes in which glowed a mixture of hunger and desire? Would I look attractive in their eyes? You can figure it out, Lisette, you just have to agree, Doro will take care of everything, she’s a born organizer. I leaned back against the wood, and dropped my head on my left shoulder. I'll think about it, I made up my mind.

Three and a half hours this morning. Half an hour longer than yesterday. Initially I’d been raised up for a quarter of an hour. Soon to half an hour. Would more hours follow soon? I shuddered at the thought. Five hours. Six hours. And then? Even longer? Could I do that? Certainly - the ancient Romans crucified disobedient slaves from morning to night, up to twelve hours. Again a shudder ran through me, twelve hours, a monstrous time! How often would I break down crying? How would I bear the thirst if I got nothing to drink? Would there be quiet hours among the crises? Would I cry out at some point until my throat was sore?

"You look beautiful," said Dorothea from below, 'as always, when you’re crucified, Lis." She smiled, "The ancient Romans had it good, they could buy pretty slaves and crucify them to their hearts’ content.” Her face took on a dreamy expression. "If I were a rich Roman lady, I’d buy myself me a whole coffle of pretty slaves, they’d have to take turns on the cross in the yard, where I could watch them as they writhe in sweet agony. I’d listen and watch them weeping and writhing."

"Actually, crucifixion was indeed a punishment," I said. Doro’s words had upset me. "It was used to discipline slaves. Nailing, on the other hand, was intended as a deterrent death penalty for criminals and rebels."

"Why nailed?" asked Doro, "Okay, it hurts so much that a crucified man screams like a monkey from the start, as a scare it would work really well. If I saw a man dying in that horrific way, any temptation to rebel would soon pass away. But bound with ropes, it would last much longer, victims would take much longer to die. "

"The nails had another purpose," I said.,"They nailed the condemned ones to the cross so that they couldn’t be stolen at night."

"Stolen?" exclaimed Doro open-mouthed.

"Yes of course,", I said, "to sell as slaves, it was a lucrative business. One who’s only bound to the cross with ropes could easily be cut down, they’d have to mount a guard-squad around the clock so they wouldn’t be stolen. But a person who's skewered with nails on the cross, you can’t get off so easily, and, more importantly, they’d no longer be any use as slaves, they’d be so badly injured that you’d have a costly business maintaining them if they survived at all. They’d probably be crippled – they had the nails driven through their wrists, important nerves were destroyed. Someone who’d been snatched from a cross would no longer be able to use their hands properly, they'd be no good as a slave."

Dorothea came to me and stroked my feet, "You know everything about it, Lis! I bet you've gathered all the information you could find on the internet."

I thought of my ‘special’ folder and nodded... "Yes, I've collected everything I could find. Really, bound crucifixion was only used as a disciplinary measure. If a disobedient slave was tied up on the cross in the yard of a villa, no other slave would dare to liberate him."

"You always speak only of men." Doro sounded disappointed.

"No," I shook my head. "I mean both sexes, it was also done to female slaves. Of course they were naked. It was worse for them, because of the shame."

"Fine," said Doro, stroking my bare feet.

"You mustn’t imagine that’s what’s happening to me here with you, though." I continued, "Don’t believe that when slaves were exposed like that it was pleasant for them - on the contrary, it was supposed to be a deterrent punishment. They didn’t take much care with a disobedient slavegirl." I used ‘slavegirl’ intentionally, it seemed important for her that female slaves were crucified. "Pictures show their limbs bound on the crossbar, their arms stretched as much as possible, and the ropes tied so tightly they couldn’t move. And their feet were bound differently. Then the poor thing hung all day long on the cross crying, and the other slaves looked on while she had to endure the endless torment.”

“There were other cross-shapes, too. The so-called tau-cross was common. On that one the arms of the slavegirl were laid along the on top, then pulled back a bit and down. They could tie just her wrists, or bind her arms in several places - either way of course she’d be cruelly fixed! Her feet hung right and left of the upright, but don’t suppose the girl’s ankles were tied with thick turns of rope, so they weren’t pressed directly against the wood – oh no, they forced her ankles against the wood on both sides of the post, then tied the rope around them; only after that did they bind it several times between pole and her shins, so as to prevent the poor girl from pulling her feet out of the bondage. Imagine how that hurt after a while!”

“They also had special square bar. The upright stake was square, and at the top it was grooved - it had a kind of depression that looked from the side like an upside-down triangle. They set the cross bar in that, so the edges of the four-sided beam faced up, to the front and behind. If your arms were tied very tightly to such an edged beam, you’d have suffered tremendous pain. A slavegirl bondaged like that went through hell, her arms and wrists ached unbearably, and her ankles too, they were pressed terribly hard against the wood of the upright. She’d have screamed all day long with pain. By evening she’d be determined to be super-good and as totally obedient!"

"Yes," said Dorothy, "obedient!" She looked up at me. "Well, I’m glad you’ve explained all that, Lis, it was really nice." Her eyes were glowing. She went to her drawing table and went on putting finishing touches to her flower-meadow.

Just what I needed this morning...now I will spend the rest of the day fantasizing about being crucified on a "Tau-cross" Thanks Eul

 

[serendipity]

I could feel no real time any more, only the brief intervals between the strokes..... Whipping before I was strapped to the cross, oh my gods and goddesses! But I didn’t find pleasure in it as it went on? Of course, I was in pain, but it had long since become bearable, it was like salt in the soup.

Eulalia, I enjoy your descriptive writing... this account of Lisette enduring the whip really strikes home (no pun intended).

 

[Primus pilus]

21 Hiking barefoot with nipple clamps

When I stood naked in the morning in front of the cross, the weals from yesterday’s whipping had disappeared, they existed only in my mind, in my soul. My cousin smiled at me encouragingly, "Today, three and a half hours, Lisette?"

Three and a half? Half an hour more than the day before? She noticed my dubious look,

"We’ve not got enough time for two sessions, Lis. We want to go to the Blessed Virgin Chapel in Kehlwangen. Even if we go by train - the walk back takes too long. You can only be crucified once today."

She came up to me. "If you're afraid you’ll scream, you can wear the gag."

I shook my head, not the cruel gag, not today. "I don’t want it,” I said. "not today. And no lashes before." I ran my fingers over my thigh, "You can’t see anything, but I’m still feeling yesterday’s flogging a bit."

Dorothee's eyes were filled with compassion, "Oh Lisette," she hugged me, "Is it so bad? If it is, we can delay your crucifixion."

I returned her hug, "It’s not that bad, I can stand it, I can just still feel it quite clearly." I looked at her, "I’ll do three and a half hours on the cross, then we’ll go to Kehlwangen."

"You’re crazy," whispered Doro, and kissed me on the cheek Then she led me gently to the cross. "Come, Lisette, it’s time to suffer."

Time to suffer - what an expression! These three words said so much! I lay down on the cross and gave up control of myself to my cousin. She strapped me and hauled me up. As always, I felt so happy I could have sung for joy. Crucified! At last! Ohhhh! I had to think back to the first day, to my shyness when Doro had persuaded me to take off my clothes, and I kept my panties on, she’d taken them off me after she’d tied my arms to the crossbar! By now it was completely normal for me to strip naked to go on the cross, I would even refuse to keep my panties or even to wear a bikini. I could only enjoy it properly in the nude, experiencing my total helplessness. Only naked could I feel the smooth wood that was holding me captive, on naked could I enjoy the feeling of being on display. This was part of it, the desire to be humiliated. I thought about Doros insane proposal for me to go on the cross in front of a group of paying spectators. The idea had something, it turned me on.

Anyway, I was very excited as always at the beginning of my crucifixions, and the idea of being exposed naked in front of spectators reinforced this excitement still more. I began to think seriously about this plan - not only because I wanted to fly with my cousin to New Zealand, but also because the idea of suffering on the cross for the pleasure of strangers excited me beyond measure. I was soaking wet and squirming slowly on the bar.

I felt the smooth wood of the footrest under my bare feet, my most intense point of contact with the cross. There were crucifixions where the feet of the crucified dangled in the air. I had researched all possible ways on the internet. I liked them all without exception, but being strapped to the cross as I was, I liked that the most.

Dorothea was standing in front of me and looking at me, she was loving it, seeing my naked body strapped to the cross. Would strangers look at me the same way? With wide eyes in which glowed a mixture of hunger and desire? Would I look attractive in their eyes? You can figure it out, Lisette, you just have to agree, Doro will take care of everything, she’s a born organizer. I leaned back against the wood, and dropped my head on my left shoulder. I'll think about it, I made up my mind.

Three and a half hours this morning. Half an hour longer than yesterday. Initially I’d been raised up for a quarter of an hour. Soon to half an hour. Would more hours follow soon? I shuddered at the thought. Five hours. Six hours. And then? Even longer? Could I do that? Certainly - the ancient Romans crucified disobedient slaves from morning to night, up to twelve hours. Again a shudder ran through me, twelve hours, a monstrous time! How often would I break down crying? How would I bear the thirst if I got nothing to drink? Would there be quiet hours among the crises? Would I cry out at some point until my throat was sore?

"You look beautiful," said Dorothea from below, 'as always, when you’re crucified, Lis." She smiled, "The ancient Romans had it good, they could buy pretty slaves and crucify them to their hearts’ content.” Her face took on a dreamy expression. "If I were a rich Roman lady, I’d buy myself me a whole coffle of pretty slaves, they’d have to take turns on the cross in the yard, where I could watch them as they writhe in sweet agony. I’d listen and watch them weeping and writhing."

"Actually, crucifixion was indeed a punishment," I said. Doro’s words had upset me. "It was used to discipline slaves. Nailing, on the other hand, was intended as a deterrent death penalty for criminals and rebels."

"Why nailed?" asked Doro, "Okay, it hurts so much that a crucified man screams like a monkey from the start, as a scare it would work really well. If I saw a man dying in that horrific way, any temptation to rebel would soon pass away. But bound with ropes, it would last much longer, victims would take much longer to die. "

"The nails had another purpose," I said.,"They nailed the condemned ones to the cross so that they couldn’t be stolen at night."

"Stolen?" exclaimed Doro open-mouthed.

"Yes of course,", I said, "to sell as slaves, it was a lucrative business. One who’s only bound to the cross with ropes could easily be cut down, they’d have to mount a guard-squad around the clock so they wouldn’t be stolen. But a person who's skewered with nails on the cross, you can’t get off so easily, and, more importantly, they’d no longer be any use as slaves, they’d be so badly injured that you’d have a costly business maintaining them if they survived at all. They’d probably be crippled – they had the nails driven through their wrists, important nerves were destroyed. Someone who’d been snatched from a cross would no longer be able to use their hands properly, they'd be no good as a slave."

Dorothea came to me and stroked my feet, "You know everything about it, Lis! I bet you've gathered all the information you could find on the internet."

I thought of my ‘special’ folder and nodded... "Yes, I've collected everything I could find. Really, bound crucifixion was only used as a disciplinary measure. If a disobedient slave was tied up on the cross in the yard of a villa, no other slave would dare to liberate him."

"You always speak only of men." Doro sounded disappointed.

"No," I shook my head. "I mean both sexes, it was also done to female slaves. Of course they were naked. It was worse for them, because of the shame."

"Fine," said Doro, stroking my bare feet.

"You mustn’t imagine that’s what’s happening to me here with you, though." I continued, "Don’t believe that when slaves were exposed like that it was pleasant for them - on the contrary, it was supposed to be a deterrent punishment. They didn’t take much care with a disobedient slavegirl." I used ‘slavegirl’ intentionally, it seemed important for her that female slaves were crucified. "Pictures show their limbs bound on the crossbar, their arms stretched as much as possible, and the ropes tied so tightly they couldn’t move. And their feet were bound differently. Then the poor thing hung all day long on the cross crying, and the other slaves looked on while she had to endure the endless torment.”

“There were other cross-shapes, too. The so-called tau-cross was common. On that one the arms of the slavegirl were laid along the on top, then pulled back a bit and down. They could tie just her wrists, or bind her arms in several places - either way of course she’d be cruelly fixed! Her feet hung right and left of the upright, but don’t suppose the girl’s ankles were tied with thick turns of rope, so they weren’t pressed directly against the wood – oh no, they forced her ankles against the wood on both sides of the post, then tied the rope around them; only after that did they bind it several times between pole and her shins, so as to prevent the poor girl from pulling her feet out of the bondage. Imagine how that hurt after a while!”

“They also had special square bar. The upright stake was square, and at the top it was grooved - it had a kind of depression that looked from the side like an upside-down triangle. They set the cross bar in that, so the edges of the four-sided beam faced up, to the front and behind. If your arms were tied very tightly to such an edged beam, you’d have suffered tremendous pain. A slavegirl bondaged like that went through hell, her arms and wrists ached unbearably, and her ankles too, they were pressed terribly hard against the wood of the upright. She’d have screamed all day long with pain. By evening she’d be determined to be super-good and as totally obedient!"

"Yes," said Dorothy, "obedient!" She looked up at me. "Well, I’m glad you’ve explained all that, Lis, it was really nice." Her eyes were glowing. She went to her drawing table and went on putting finishing touches to her flower-meadow.

Pp wonders whether he will see Lisette joined to different crosses.

 

[Primus pilus]

Just what I needed this morning...now I will spend the rest of the day fantasizing about being crucified on a "Tau-cross" Thanks Eul

Pp has bound your ankles and shins as Eulalia described and watches as you struggle to close your thighs. Enjoy your fantasy Barb.
Like you Pp finds himself participating in Eul's story.

 

[Eulalia]

Eulalia, I enjoy your descriptive writing... this account of Lisette enduring the whip really strikes home (no pun intended).

in truth, Serendipity, it's my translation
from the German of Elfenbraut/ Elf-bride,
about whom we've not managed to find any information.
Madiosi supplied the original, I dipped into the first chapter or so
and realised this is something pretty good;
when I posted my version of the first part,
I felt even more sure, and a lot of others agreed!​

 

[jjj688]

Super hot!

 

[L.T.]

My confession: It has become my habit to go through all other alerts/posts first, and save this thread for last. I have become addicted to a daily fix of Lisette's suffering. When your story is concluded, I expect to suffer withdrawal symptoms and a prolonged period of depression.

 

[serendipity]

in truth, Serendipity, it's my translation
from the German of Elfenbraut/ Elf-bride,
about whom we've not managed to find any information.
Madiosi supplied the original, I dipped into the first chapter or so
and realised this is something pretty good;
when I posted my version of the first part,
I felt even more sure, and a lot of others agreed!​

Well, thank you both then for sharing this riveting depiction.
It all goes to support the assertion that the imagination is a limitless playground --- gratitude for partaking!

 

[Eulalia]

We'll have to find something else to ensure our addicts don't suffer too agonisingly!
As I say, sadly we don't know anything more about - never mind by - Elfenbraut.
But there's a rich variety of good reading here on the Forums already (much in the Archive),
and I'm aware there's a French (Roman setting?) story Melissa put up for translating a little while ago,
when Girl with no Name is finished, I'll probably turn to that.