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Veronika: Love, Pain and Pleasure

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Crucified Veronika

Crucified Veronika

Magistrate
As some of you know, I began my life as a submissive by self-crucifying, a failed self-crucifixion, or too successful since I almost died of asphyxiation on my cross, but which fortunately ended well when my next-door neighbour, Sylvia, heard my screams and untied me.

She saved my life, and from that day on, we became lovers, and our love has only grown since.

Discovering this forum was one of the best things ever happening to me.

I've discovered a world, indeed populated by sadists but also by beautiful people, some of whom have become friends, a world I'd never imagined.

The word BDSM has always frightened me; for me, it meant people who were a bit disturbed.

Today, having discovered the submissive in me, this world of pain and pleasure has become my place of life and love.

On the advice of one of my dearest friends here, I've created this thread, not for myself but for all the novices who are hesitant and who don't know what or who to believe.

I certainly won't be able to give them all the answers they'd like, as I'm a novice myself, but by sharing with you and them my experiences as I've developed as a submissive, I hope to help them understand from the inside what it means.

I'll be posting my BDSM experiences with Sylvia here from time to time.

Some people will probably find them childish and uninteresting, but that's OK because writing about how I feel in pain and pleasure helps me understand myself better, opens my mind and shows me my way.

I'd also like to thank in advance all those of you who 'know' and have been experiencing BDSM and crucifixion for a long time for not hesitating to criticise me and also, please, to give me your advice and ideas.

Thank you,
Veronika

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In Forest with Sylvia (16 June 2024 - true story)

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This Sunday morning, I left very early with Sylvia for a BDSM walk in the forest with ropes and a flogger.

This will be my second experience with the flogger; the first was on Friday when I was tied up on the kitchen table, and Sylvia poured hot wax over my breasts, stomach and thighs, then blew the wax off with the flogger we'd bought together in the sex shop that same afternoon.

Even though Sylvia is a complete novice in using a flogger, she was careful not to hurt me. I enjoyed it so much that I offered to whip myself with it on the walk in the woods we'd planned for that Sunday.

When we arrived at the car park, I stripped completely naked, and Sylvia put my clothes and shoes in the boot of the car.

I stood naked in the car park, reassured that we were alone - no other cars were parked there.

Sylva puts a long rope around my neck, almost up to my feet, then ties my hands behind my back. We start walking while she holds the rope around my neck and pulls on it occasionally to keep me moving.

I ask her to walk slower, as walking barefoot on this somewhat rocky forest path is painful and difficult. I tell her I'm afraid of falling, as with my hands tied behind my back, I could hurt myself badly if I fall and can't catch myself.

She says she can untie my hands, but I refuse.

This rope around my neck and my hands tied behind my back is proof of the love and trust I have for Sylvia; I'm defenceless, vulnerable, at her mercy. I belong to her, and I like it that way.

Sylvia lets go of the rope and walks behind me, telling me to move forward, while at the same time, I feel the flogger straps pinching my buttocks.

We've been walking for quite a while now; she's saying loving words to me as she whips my bottom, and I'm already wet with pleasure.

We finally reach the big rock in the clearing.

There's a big tree just behind the boulder, and some of its roots are sticking out of the ground in front of it as if the tree were wrapping its roots around the boulder.

Sylvia has me lie on my back on the rock, tie my wrists together, and pass the rope behind the trunk.

Then she makes me spread my thighs and ties each of my ankles to the big roots at my feet.

Then she goes behind me, pulls on the rope with all her strength, and locks it.

I feel like I'm being torn apart, unable to move; the rope is biting my ankles and my wrists and I'm arched over the rock, entirely at Sylvia's mercy.

It hurts a bit in my back, shoulders, and arms, but at the same time, I know that what we will experience together this morning will be a new and beautiful stage in the love that unites us.

I need to feel her fingers inside me, her hands on my skin, on my breasts. I ask her to caress me, but she refuses and tells me she's going to whip me first and only then make me come.

I'm standing in the sun in the middle of the clearing, and the whip doesn't avoid any part of my body; I'm sweating, I'm clenching my teeth, I'm moaning, it's pinching, it hurts, and yet I don't ask her to stop, I try to smile at her, I tell her I love her, and she replies that she loves me more than anything else in the world too.

She asks me several times if she should stop or continue; my breasts are all red from the strokes of the straps, my stomach throbs with each lash, and when she whips my sex, albeit much more gently, I feel like my clitoris is going to be cut in half at the next flogger stroke.

I want to come, but every time the whip stops me, it reminds me that I'm here to suffer first and that pleasure will come later, soon.

I groan and can't hold back my cries of pain.

Suddenly, Sylvia stops.

A young girl is standing at the edge of the clearing in front of us, staring at us and me as if paralysed.

A large dog is now at my feet, licking my feet and legs, no doubt excited by my sweat.

I smile and say hello to the girl, telling her not to worry, that it's just an erotic game between us and that everything's fine.

But the girl doesn't move, and she doesn't seem to believe me. I can feel that she wants to help me but thinks I'm lying to her because of Sylvia.

Sylvia has understood the same thing. She hurries to untie me, helps me up, takes me in her arms, hugs me, kisses me, and I tell her I love her.

The dog circles us, and the young girl has to come closer to pick it up.

When she gets close to me, she looks down at the ground, afraid of me, of looking at me naked.

I talk to her, telling her again that I'm happy and that Sylvia is the love of my life.

She finally dares to look up, and I smile at her.

I ask her to sit next to me on the rock because I'm exhausted from the whipping, and it's difficult for me to stand.

She sits down, and the three of us talk about my relationship with Sylvia for a good half hour.

She now understands that it's consensual and all about love.

I feel better now and suggest to Sylvia that we return to the car.

Sylvia hasn't tied my hands behind my back or put the rope around my neck, and the three of us walk down the path with the dog, who is celebrating with us and to whom we throw bits of wood.

I don't even feel naked any more, and the girl smiles at me, and we even exchange pleasantries.

When we get to the car half an hour later, we're just three friends who met in the forest, and I give her my phone number so that we can all have a coffee together when she feels like it, as she lives in the same university town.

I'm so happy to have offered myself to Sylvia's whip, who enjoyed it as much as I did.

The only regret I have is that, because the girl arrives in the clearing, I only got the whip and not my reward; I would have so much liked to have had an orgasm while still tied to my rock when Sylvia's fingers and tongue would have replaced the whip.

But she fulfilled me more than I was expecting once at home!
 
Crucified Veronika said:
In Forest with Sylvia (16 June 2024 - true story)

View attachment 1489070

This Sunday morning, I left very early with Sylvia for a BDSM walk in the forest with ropes and a flogger.

This will be my second experience with the flogger; the first was on Friday when I was tied up on the kitchen table, and Sylvia poured hot wax over my breasts, stomach and thighs, then blew the wax off with the flogger we'd bought together in the sex shop that same afternoon.

Even though Sylvia is a complete novice in using a flogger, she was careful not to hurt me. I enjoyed it so much that I offered to whip myself with it on the walk in the woods we'd planned for that Sunday.

When we arrived at the car park, I stripped completely naked, and Sylvia put my clothes and shoes in the boot of the car.

I stood naked in the car park, reassured that we were alone - no other cars were parked there.

Sylva puts a long rope around my neck, almost up to my feet, then ties my hands behind my back. We start walking while she holds the rope around my neck and pulls on it occasionally to keep me moving.

I ask her to walk slower, as walking barefoot on this somewhat rocky forest path is painful and difficult. I tell her I'm afraid of falling, as with my hands tied behind my back, I could hurt myself badly if I fall and can't catch myself.

She says she can untie my hands, but I refuse.

This rope around my neck and my hands tied behind my back is proof of the love and trust I have for Sylvia; I'm defenceless, vulnerable, at her mercy. I belong to her, and I like it that way.

Sylvia lets go of the rope and walks behind me, telling me to move forward, while at the same time, I feel the flogger straps pinching my buttocks.

We've been walking for quite a while now; she's saying loving words to me as she whips my bottom, and I'm already wet with pleasure.

We finally reach the big rock in the clearing.

There's a big tree just behind the boulder, and some of its roots are sticking out of the ground in front of it as if the tree were wrapping its roots around the boulder.

Sylvia has me lie on my back on the rock, tie my wrists together, and pass the rope behind the trunk.

Then she makes me spread my thighs and ties each of my ankles to the big roots at my feet.

Then she goes behind me, pulls on the rope with all her strength, and locks it.

I feel like I'm being torn apart, unable to move; the rope is biting my ankles and my wrists and I'm arched over the rock, entirely at Sylvia's mercy.

It hurts a bit in my back, shoulders, and arms, but at the same time, I know that what we will experience together this morning will be a new and beautiful stage in the love that unites us.

I need to feel her fingers inside me, her hands on my skin, on my breasts. I ask her to caress me, but she refuses and tells me she's going to whip me first and only then make me come.

I'm standing in the sun in the middle of the clearing, and the whip doesn't avoid any part of my body; I'm sweating, I'm clenching my teeth, I'm moaning, it's pinching, it hurts, and yet I don't ask her to stop, I try to smile at her, I tell her I love her, and she replies that she loves me more than anything else in the world too.

She asks me several times if she should stop or continue; my breasts are all red from the strokes of the straps, my stomach throbs with each lash, and when she whips my sex, albeit much more gently, I feel like my clitoris is going to be cut in half at the next flogger stroke.

I want to come, but every time the whip stops me, it reminds me that I'm here to suffer first and that pleasure will come later, soon.

I groan and can't hold back my cries of pain.

Suddenly, Sylvia stops.

A young girl is standing at the edge of the clearing in front of us, staring at us and me as if paralysed.

A large dog is now at my feet, licking my feet and legs, no doubt excited by my sweat.

I smile and say hello to the girl, telling her not to worry, that it's just an erotic game between us and that everything's fine.

But the girl doesn't move, and she doesn't seem to believe me. I can feel that she wants to help me but thinks I'm lying to her because of Sylvia.

Sylvia has understood the same thing. She hurries to untie me, helps me up, takes me in her arms, hugs me, kisses me, and I tell her I love her.

The dog circles us, and the young girl has to come closer to pick it up.

When she gets close to me, she looks down at the ground, afraid of me, of looking at me naked.

I talk to her, telling her again that I'm happy and that Sylvia is the love of my life.

She finally dares to look up, and I smile at her.

I ask her to sit next to me on the rock because I'm exhausted from the whipping, and it's difficult for me to stand.

She sits down, and the three of us talk about my relationship with Sylvia for a good half hour.

She now understands that it's consensual and all about love.

I feel better now and suggest to Sylvia that we return to the car.

Sylvia hasn't tied my hands behind my back or put the rope around my neck, and the three of us walk down the path with the dog, who is celebrating with us and to whom we throw bits of wood.

I don't even feel naked any more, and the girl smiles at me, and we even exchange pleasantries.

When we get to the car half an hour later, we're just three friends who met in the forest, and I give her my phone number so that we can all have a coffee together when she feels like it, as she lives in the same university town.

I'm so happy to have offered myself to Sylvia's whip, who enjoyed it as much as I did.

The only regret I have is that, because the girl arrives in the clearing, I only got the whip and not my reward; I would have so much liked to have had an orgasm while still tied to my rock when Sylvia's fingers and tongue would have replaced the whip.

But she fulfilled me more than I was expecting once at home!
Click to expand...
Going out in public always carries some risk, eh?
Some years back my wife and I went to some events...she was collared and leashed and she found it quite a turn on. I enjoyed the envious glances of guys who could only wish they had a submissive...
 
kendelo said:
Going out in public always carries some risk, eh?
Some years back my wife and I went to some events...she was collared and leashed and she found it quite a turn on. I enjoyed the envious glances of guys who could only wish they had a submissive...
Click to expand...
Thank you for sharing. Yes, it is a risk, but doing it outdoors is worth it!
 
Crucified Veronika said:
.

When we get to the car half an hour later, we're just three friends who met in the forest, and I give her my phone number so that we can all have a coffee together when she feels like it, as she lives in the same university town.
Click to expand...
That should be an enlightening conversation. The new girl must be curious about things, as she stayed with you and Sylvia, rather than heating a hasty retreat.
 
TheLimey said:
That should be an enlightening conversation. The new girl must be curious about things, as she stayed with you and Sylvia, rather than heating a hasty retreat.
Click to expand...
Without her dog not obeying her as being more interested in licking me, she would have definitely run away.

After relaxing a bit, we could talk, and she was even able to look at me nude, as she was ashamed to just look at me before.

So it was surely a great effort for her to accept to talk to us.

She is already so shy and so far away from BDSM that I doubt she will ever be interested in our world.

But at least now, she has been able to see, and I hope she understands, that there is nothing wrong with it.

I gave her my phone number, let's see if she will call me or not in future; it will be her choice :)
 

The crucifixion of Veronika, Queen of the Jews
(fiction story, alas!)​


My disciples are following me into the garden on this sad evening.

I know that one of them has betrayed me, sold me to the Romans and that they are on their way to arrest and judge me.

I've become a risk to public order; I represent the new religion that recognises only one God and rejects the official Roman gods.

But no matter how much the Romans forbade us to meet and pray to our God, our numbers grew daily, and we were no longer afraid of them.

The Roman soldiers have entered the garden, and as Queen of the Jews, I refuse to be touched, to be defiled by their hands, but they seize me brutally, untie the belt of my tunic and use it to tie my hands behind my back.

I was then thrown into a cell where there were already other men and women.

They recognised me, knelt before me, and prayed together all night.

In the morning, I was taken out of the cell and dragged before Pontius Pilate to be judged.

There he is, puffed up with pride, sitting on his throne, looking down on me, but I don't lower my eyes.

"And you dare to say that you are the Queen of the Jews, you queen? Where is your crown? Where is your kingdom?"

"My kingdom is in heaven, and the Holy Spirit crowns me. God protects me, and I am not afraid of you, who are nothing on earth."

He shouted in anger: "Punish this impertinent woman, undress her and give her twenty lashes immediately!"

The soldier next to me unties my hands and opens my tunic to whip my chest, but as I no longer have a belt, nothing prevents my tunic from falling to the ground.

Suddenly, I'm completely naked in front of everyone, hiding my breasts and sex as best I can with my arms and hands.

Pontius Pilate saw my gesture of modesty and realised that by humiliating me; he would be able to punish me even better, so he ordered my arms to be tied to the ceiling.

The soldier pulled on the rope passing through the ring above me and blocked it, forcing me to stand on tiptoe.

I blush with shame; everyone looks at me and laughs to see me humiliated like this.

But my nakedness isn't the hardest thing to bear once the soldier starts whipping me with all his might.

All I can think about is the pain of the whip, which tears my back and wraps itself around my chest; I spin around under the blows, and now it's my breasts he's whipping so hard it feels like he's going to rip them off me, I scream in pain.

Then he whipped my buttocks and thighs so hard I could hardly breathe.

I've had my twenty lashes, and I'm hanging there by my arms, almost unconscious.

I don't dare look up any more, the shame of being naked in front of everyone taking over and hurting me just as much.

"You're not proud any more, queen of nothing! Given your beauty, perhaps you could become the queen of the whores of Jerusalem; it would be a good idea to offer you to my soldiers!"

I look him in the eye again and shout, "I'd rather die, you Roman dog!"

Pontius Pilate smiles at me:

"Since you would rather die than spread your legs for my dear soldiers, you will suffer the fate of whores and thieves, and tomorrow you will be crucified in front of your dear disciples on Mount Golgotha.

And may she remain naked like the whore she is until her last breath on the cross."

I am dragged naked to a cell where there are already two other men condemned like me to be crucified tomorrow.

One of them throws himself on me to rape me, but the second hits him and pulls him back, telling him that I am the Queen of the Jews and that he must respect me.

I prayed with him all night and felt reassured: if this is my destiny for the glory of my God, then so be it; I am happy to die for him.

At dawn the next day, I was taken from my cell and dragged, still naked, to the public square in Jerusalem.

A huge crowd was already there; the Romans had wanted my humiliation to be complete, and my execution on the cross had been proclaimed yesterday in all the streets of the city.

I recognise several of my disciples who, seeing me naked, are ashamed and bow their heads so as not to look at me, but then I begin one of our divine songs, and they now look at me, singing in unison with me.

The soldiers begin to fear this crowd singing with me.

And instead of flogging me in front of them as Pontius Pilate had ordered, they took me quickly out of the city to the Venue of my martyrdom.

As we left Jerusalem, I saw the two men with whom I had spent the night standing before me, each with a large wooden cross slung over his shoulder.

They are dressed.

The centurion tells me to pick up the cross still on the ground and orders me to carry it like them.

It's so heavy that I can barely lift it, so one of my disciples helps me and is immediately whipped.

The sun is now well up, and I'm starting to pull more than carry this enormous cross, tearing the skin from my back.

The crowds that have gathered on either side of the path that leads to the top of Mount Golgotha insult me, some touching my breasts and buttocks as I pass slowly in front of them, one even passing a hand between my thighs, while the soldiers call me a whore and tell me to move on while regularly lashing me.

My bare feet are bleeding, the sun is burning my bare skin, and I can't feel my shoulder, which the cross has crushed.

I finally reached the top of Mount Golgotha, completely exhausted.

But I am relieved that I no longer have to carry this heavy, rough wooden cross that has torn the delicate skin of my back and my hands, which are now bloody.

The Centurion forced me to lie on my back on the cross, and he placed one foot on my forearm to block it; while he kneeled, I saw him pick up a giant hammer and a large nail and drive it into my wrist, making me cry out in pain.

But that's nothing compared to what I feel when he takes his first swing at the nail, which drives with a thud into my skin but stops between the bones of my wrist.

Another big thud, and the nail meets the wood.

The pain is horrible, and I scream like an animal.

But he feels no pity; on the contrary, he looks at me smiling, and he keeps hammering the nail in until the head of the nail crushes my wrist completely.

After nailing my other wrist, I'm totally at his mercy. The crowd screams with pleasure at seeing me naked and open to their gaze, and the centurion spreads my thighs to show them my half-open sex.

In addition to the unbearable pain of the nails hammered into each of my wrists, there's the shame, the horrible shame.

I know I'm going to die on the cross, but even more so, knowing that I'm nothing more than the body of a naked girl offered up to the lustful gazes of these boors who have come to witness my agony.

After leaving me with my thighs wide open to humiliate me even more and ordering me to stay that way or else he told me he was going to crush my knees with a hammer, he came back with two more long nails.

Instead of nailing my feet together, he began by nailing my right foot to one side of the cross with a heavy hammer.

The pain is so unbearable that I can't even scream, I can't even breathe, and I faint.

Then it was my other foot's turn, on the other side of the cross.

The same pain tore through my heart as he hammered in that second nail, leaving me with my thighs spread open for all to see, unable to hide my half-open sex.

When he and his soldiers begin to raise the cross, the pain becomes even more unbearable, the whole weight of my body supported only by the nails that tear into my palms and feet.

My cross is now upright between the two men condemned with me.

My crucifixion began hours ago.

I was fully nude in front of my disciples and the crowd of onlookers; I could see that most of the men and even women were looking at me with disbelief but also the desire to touch me, to possess me.

I could feel their huge wave of desire inside my own body; my nipples were erect, my pussy was dripping wet, and my legs were more soaked by my juices than by my blood; I could see and hear the crowd begin to murmur until it became a loud background noise.

It is when it happened.

Then suddenly, my body began to straighten, the pain flowing down my body like my blood, the pain escaping my body with my blood.

I was no longer in pain, and the look in the eyes of everyone around me was no longer the same.

Some went down on their knees in prayer, others beat their chests in lament, and the Romans themselves, including my chief executor, shamefully hid their erect genitals with their hands.

I felt a gentle, refreshing inner warmth where I had felt nothing but pain. I looked at them all, smiling. I was well, happy, naked as on the first day of my birth but clothed in glory by the Holy Spirit who filled me and gave me his strength and power.

Such power that by the sheer strength of my legs and thighs, which had previously been no more than useless limbs except for transmitting pain to me, I had the strength to pull out the nails driven into each of my feet.

I was still hanging by my arms, but in the same way, as with my feet, I pulled on each of my palms and tore out the nails that were still holding me to the cross.

Everyone was on the ground; there was total silence; concupiscence had given way to shame, which in turn had given way to amazement, an amazement that began to turn into veneration.

Despite having torn the nails out of my cross with my flesh alone, I was no longer bleeding; my scars were visible but no longer hurt at all.

I was naked before them like a goddess; the child of God made a woman come down to earth.

I raised my arms to heaven and recited the same prayers I used to recite to my disciples in my place of worship. All those around me accompanied my words, which resounded like a sacred word in the mountain air.

The words of our common prayer ascended to heaven, rolling down the slopes of Golgotha to Jerusalem, where the walls of Pontius Pilate's palace began to tremble in terror along with its occupants, even Pontius Pilate himself.

I was still at the top of Golgotha, beside the cross of my martyrdom. Yet, simultaneously, I was standing before Pontius Pilate, my spirit flying from one place to another, from Golgotha to Jerusalem, and from Earth to Heaven.

The dove of the Holy Spirit held in its beak a branch gracefully placed on my crown of thorns.

And suddenly, I was filled with light; my whole body had become light.

I went down the Mount of Golgotha by the same route on which I had carried my cross, under the whip's lashes and the crowd's jeers, but this time, there were only murmurs of adoration accompanying me.

I was naked, luminous, radiant with Divine light, and the crowd descended Golgotha with me; even the Romans who had crucified me were by my side, begging me to forgive them.

Halfway down, I stopped and told them that if they wanted to follow me, they had to do so in all humility and leave their clothes, finery and jewels behind.

And they all undressed, all naked, all equal before God and before me who represented him.

We all went to the river Jordan, and I entered the water first.

Then I looked back at them, who were waiting for me on the shore, all those naked, humble bodies from which desire had disappeared, naked as on the first day, naked and equal among themselves.

Then I called them by name, one by one, without hesitation, as if I had always known each one's name. I baptised them, one by one, in the water of the Jordan, starting with my executioner. This centurion was now just a big naked baby, crying and begging me to forgive him, which I did, kissing him on the forehead and imparting to him the peace of the soul of those who believe.

I baptised them for days and days, night and day, without ever feeling tired, without needing to sleep.

I am no longer Veronika, Queen of the Jews; I am God's daughter on earth.
 
Sexual Pleasure and Crucifixion
(My true story and how I entered the wonderful world of love, crucifixion and BDSM)

I have only one passion, one desire, one obsession: to be crucified.

From forum to forum, from false Master to false Master, more interested in whipping me and raping me than in satisfying my need, despite all their false claims about their experience of crucifixion, I've finally decided to crucify myself while waiting to find the one who will be able to do it, taking all the necessary precautions to avoid making me a cripple.

I'm quite sporty. I'm on a handball team, and I jog almost every day. My heart is in great shape, and my lung capacity is also at its maximum, but being hung by my arms is something quite different.

In the almost abandoned communal attic of the block of flats where I live, the large roof beams, and particularly the central support beam on which a horizontal beam running from one side of the roof to the other rests, together form a T-shaped cross, which will be perfect for my crucifixion.

First problem: If I tie my wrists together with several turns of rope to make sure I don't fall, how will I then be able to lock the ropes and, just as importantly, how do I free myself?

I finally found a solution. I bought some leather bracelets from a sex shop, where I explained what I wanted to do with them, and they were already fitted with rings so I could hang myself by my arms.

I would have preferred to use ropes for my wrists, but I wouldn't have been able to do that on my own. So, let's go with the leather bracelets.

On my improvised Patibulum, I screwed two large hooks used in workshops to hang heavy equipment or tools on the wall.

On the vertical beam, I screwed a small platform for my feet with two metal brackets like those used for bookshelves.

I look at my improvised cross and am pretty proud of myself.

I've got to try this out straight away!

I'm already sweaty from fixing and installing it, and what's more, the wood of the vertical beam is far from smooth, so I risk tearing my clothes by crucifying myself.

The idea of being able to do it naked has always aroused me and is the best solution. No one uses this attic any more, so there's no risk of me being discovered, and without hesitating, I strip entirely.

A wave of pleasure and happiness washes over me. I'm naked in this attic, which is exciting in itself, and in front of me, my cross is waiting for me.

I climb up the old wooden ladder I found in the attic, which opens in the middle, and place it under the cross.

From the ladder, I'm high enough to hang my first bracelet easily, and I'm just finishing hanging the second one when the ladder topples forward because my feet are pressing too hard. I have just enough time to put one foot on the little platform to catch myself.

It all happened quite suddenly, throwing me forward, and the pain in my arms is already intense.

I'm both happy to feel crucified in my attic but also immediately panicked: how am I going to get down from my cross without the ladder?

I'm no longer trying to find out what it feels like to be crucified; I urgently need to find a way to unhook myself before I'm too weak to do so if I stay on the cross for too long.

I've been trying to unhook one of my arms for several minutes now, but to no avail - I'm not going to die crucified in my attic on my first attempt.

I have the idea of jumping onto the little platform with both feet to try and unhook myself, but it is too low.

Worse, my repeated jumps had bent the brackets underneath, so it is now leaning dangerously forward, and I have to make an extra effort not to slip.

Then I have an idea. I position my two feet on the right-hand side of the beam and press down with all my strength, using my thighs to push my body towards the side of the arm I want to unhook.

I'm almost there, but the effort in my thighs and the pain in my other arm and shoulder are unbearable.

I've been trying to free myself for at least half an hour.

Every time I try, I get the same result: I can't get off.

All that's left is the humiliation of being naked and crucified in front of one of my neighbours, hoping that someone will hear me.

It's either that or death.

I scream softly at first, but as the minutes pass, I suffer more and more, and then I scream louder and louder.

No one comes.

Although my thighs are pretty muscular, the cramps become unbearable as I have to hold on to them to breathe, and I panic even more because every time I slide down the small platform, soaked in my sweat and now so inclined, I asphyxiate more and more.

The pain in my arms and shoulders has become unbearable, and I'm screaming in fear and pain.

My vision blurs, I'm shaking.

Suddenly, the attic door opens. It's Sylvia, my next-door neighbour.

I barely have the strength to tell her to untie me before collapsing back onto my now useless thighs.

I can hardly breathe, but I can see her approaching the ladder, climbing it and finally unhooking one of my arms.

But no sooner had she unhooked the other one than I fell on top of her, causing her to topple over with the ladder, and we both ended up on the floor.

Luckily, it was nothing serious, and she helps me to sit up, as I have no strength left.

I'm sweaty and so dirty from falling on the dusty attic floor.

There I am, sitting on the floor in front of her, completely naked.

She comes up to me and kisses me; I feel her hands on my breasts; I moan; she goes on, lies me on my back, spreads my thighs and puts her hand on my sex, wide open in front of her.

I've never made love to a girl, but I can't resist her; she's just saved my life, and it's far from unpleasant...

She made me come as I've rarely come before, and all the boys who've made love to me would be very jealous.

We kiss for a long time, then we get up, and I go to get dressed, but she tells me that I have to stay naked for her if I want to thank her completely.

She's the one who handles my clothes to stop me from covering up if we meet anyone in the corridors, and she makes me walk in front of her.

We take the back staircase, and when we reach our landing, she opens the door to the corridor and tells me to go to the door of her flat.

I'm in the middle of the corridor when the lift doors open; it's the boy at the back with one of his friends.

I hide my breasts and sex as best I can with my hands and run towards the door of Sylvia's flat, but she follows me, walking quietly while the two boys look at me.

She tells me to raise my arms above my head if I want her to open her door, and, flushed with shame, I obey her, leaving the two boys to enjoy the view.

I'm finally in her house. She undresses and, in turn, drags me into her bathroom.

The water in the shower isn't the hottest.

Then I collapsed on her bed, where I fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted physically but also nervously from the stress of thinking I was going to die on the cross.

A few days later, I'm naked again in the attic.

Sylvia is tying my arms to the hooks, and I'm putting my feet on the little platform, still leaning over.

Sylvia is standing in front of me, watching me suffer and... cum.

Being naked in front of her and crucified at the same time makes me wet.

She kisses my feet, and I moan.

She approaches the ladder and climbs up.

Her hands slide up my thighs, caressing them, bending them as my feet try to hold themselves on the little platform.

She tells me to spread my thighs and stay there.

I feel her fingers between the lips of my sex, I am trembling with pleasure, but this makes me relax my efforts to hold myself together, and the pain in my arms and shoulders intensifies.

At the same time, her caresses on my clitoris become more rapid as her fingers push inside me, and suddenly I explode, I cum, I flow, I spurt, the pain in my upper body, in my arms, in my shoulders is wrenching, as extreme as the orgasm that shakes me.

Several times a week, Sylvia crucifies me and makes me cum on the cross.

I don't need a Master, I've already got everything I need at home!
 
Crucified Veronika said:
Without her dog not obeying her as being more interested in licking me, she would have definitely run away.

After relaxing a bit, we could talk, and she was even able to look at me nude, as she was ashamed to just look at me before.

So it was surely a great effort for her to accept to talk to us.

She is already so shy and so far away from BDSM that I doubt she will ever be interested in our world.

But at least now, she has been able to see, and I hope she understands, that there is nothing wrong with it.

I gave her my phone number, let's see if she will call me or not in future; it will be her choice :)
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Perhaps this will become a significant event in her life. It is rare to come upon a BDSM ritual in real life. Possibly she will do some research and exploration, develop a curiosity, and become part of your group and participate! At least she can become a appreciative spectator!
 
Barabbas said:
Perhaps this will become a significant event in her life. It is rare to come upon a BDSM ritual in real life. Possibly she will do some research and exploration, develop a curiosity, and become part of your group and participate! At least she can become a appreciative spectator!
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Indeed, it was a significant event in her life as she is only 18 years old, and I even think she is still a virgin as she was so ashamed looking at me nude.

When speaking with her, she was indeed curious about us, our relationship and, of course, about my pleasure to be flogged and tied nude.

She also looked at me many times while we walked down to the car from the clearing, clearly thinking.

And perhaps they will be more as when I offered to give her my phone number with a proposal to drink a coffee together, she didn't refuse either and of course, I didn't ask for her phone number or even her name, I just know her dog's name! :)
 
messaline said:
No doubt ? I rather think that he was more attracted to lick your intimate juices flowing down along your legs ! ... :cbiggrin:
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You're a naughty girl but you're probably right, and Sylvia thinks exactly like you do.

Taking my clothes off already in the parking and being nude there while Sylvia was closing the trunk in front of me was both stressful and arousing.

And then, walking nude and with my hands tied in my back for half an hour along the path to the clearing was very arousing, too, especially as I could see that Sylvia was as much aroused as I.

And then being tied on that rock, my thighs wide open made me very, very wet. And a few well-placed lashes didn't help to calm me down.
 
Crucified Veronika said:
You're a naughty girl but you're probably right, and Sylvia thinks exactly like you do.

Taking my clothes off already in the parking and being nude there while Sylvia was closing the trunk in front of me was both stressful and arousing.

And then, walking nude and with my hands tied in my back for half an hour along the path to the clearing was very arousing, too, especially as I could see that Sylvia was as much aroused as I.

And then being tied on that rock, my thighs wide open made me very, very wet. And a few well-placed lashes didn't help to calm me down.
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Well, the lashes aren't really designed to do that..
 
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