Crucifixion bondage stories

Added: Charita Mortimer - Date: 10.04.2022 13:03 - Views: 11995 - Clicks: 7876

Here I am, waiting It is too late, I don't need to pull on the chains to know I am committed, and my destiny is set. It had been a growing desire in me for a long time. One I didn't want to face as real at first, but instead toyed with as a fantasy. I was just the crazy goth chick with strange bondage fantasies. I really don't remember when my ultimate fantasy first formed. It was simply there For the longest time, it was simply a concept, an idea, which I never thought could become real.

One day I heard of a dom, someone who had practiced crucifixion, modified of course. Ropes instead of nails, some added support here and there, time limitations. The idea that it might actually be possible made me begin dreaming. And so In a small room in a barn. Its midnight. I can't lie down, the chains are too short, but I suppose it doesn't matter.

The thoughts of what will be happening in a few hours are enough to assure I won't be getting any sleep tonight. I also know the discomfort and sleep deprivation are part of the processing, preparing me for my virtual execution. Its cold, and I am naked, except for a loose loin cloth. The whipping I received earlier in the evening left welts, which still sting. My breasts hang free, for Crucifixion bondage stories I am actually grateful, as some of the welts would sting worse if I was wearing anything above my waist.

The whipping had seemed to go on forever. The flogger was well worn, and the salt from my trickling sweat had made the wounds sting like hell. I remember screaming a little, which seemed to please the audience. By the time it was over, I had forgetten where I was, and was simply trying to deal with the pain. I hardly new it when I was dragged to this barn and chained to the wall. As I begin to drift, almost dozing from Crucifixion bondage stories, I hear the clinking of chains from the next stall.

There is one other person awaiting crucifixion, a guy.

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One guy, one girl. I decide he is a wimp Having my hands chained above me begins to hurt. The shackles themselves are not that bad, but not being able to lower my arms is making the blood run out of my arms and cramps are setting in. I stand, just to lower my arms and let the blood flow down, instead of up. This helps a lot, Crucifixion bondage stories after a bit, I sit back down and begin to doze. I am awakened by a bucket of water thrown over me. Some of it gets in my nose, and I cough, briefly choking and gasping, until I start breathing again.

Once I calm down, the water feels good. One of the men I have come to think of as the executioners is standing above me. He offers me a bottle of water. I didn't realize how thirsty I was until I start drinking.

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The entire bottle gone, he offers me more, almost as if he is being kind to me. I know better. The sun is up, and it is early morning.

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The sounds of the country fill the barn, birds singing, flies buzzing, and even a slight breeze rustling leaves. In some ways, it is actually peaceful here. We are deep in the country, in a remote location selected for this specific purpose. We are not likely to be interrupted here.

The executioners have done this before. I was told that I was lucky to have found them.

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Through experience in bondage with a little sadism thrown in, they had learned how to crucify someone effectively, without doing permanent damage. I wonder about this now, but its too late of course. I am committed. I tell myself again that this is what I have wanted, dreamed of. Once I have experienced this ultimate in bondage, I will be able to with the group that attends these extreme events, becoming one of the inner circle. After drinking the second bottle of water, he unhooks my chains from the wall. The chains Crucifixion bondage stories at my shackles, and I am guided out of the barn, and in to a large clearing.

I see there are people there already I see they are mingling, talking pleasantly as if they were at a cocktail party. In fact, I can smell Cinnamon rolls The contrast between the pleasant, party like atmosphere of the observers, and my semi-naked sweaty and chained body hits me hard. I am nothing but amusement to these people. I have been reduced to a show, my pain is their enjoyment. The humiliation rolls over me like a wave. I am used to being looked at as a pretty girl. I know my body is in shape, though I am short, I have good breasts, long black hair, slim waist and hard legs from jogging.

I look at this differently now, as the observers look and see an attractive goth girl going to be hung on the cross. I don't feel alluring any Crucifixion bondage stories, but instead just a bundle of nerves to be subjected to stress and pain for the delight of others. I am guided to a heavy post in the middle of the clearing. The other guy is there strung up on the post He must have already received his second flogging.

It is the strangest feeling to look at him, and realize I will soon be sagging in the same way. The chains from my wrist shackles are looped over a high hook and pulled taught, so that I stand straight against the post, facing it.

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I know whats coming. The rough wood of the post scrapes my breasts and stomach, causing pain as if small needles were being pushed in to my flesh. I push back, trying to get away from the post but the chains above are too tight, I am almost on tip toe as it is. I stand I look at the other victim, hanging from the same post, and see tears running down his filthy face just inches from me. The sound from the guests comes closer, as they approach to observe my flogging.

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Some are talking about me, observing my long hair, commenting on the welts from last night's flogging, and admiring my shape. I jump just a bit when someone touches my left breast, and caresses a nipple. More hands touch other parts of my body - my ass, between my legs, breasts, hair and face. I wriggle, though it does no good. The talking subsides My head jerks back in reaction and I gasp.

I see the blue sky for the first time that morning, and I wonder Am I already that far gone? And then the sting of another stroke jerks me back. My back and sides are raw from last nights flogging, and this one is hurting a lot worse.

Crucifixion bondage stories

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