Friday, June 22, 2018

Wedding Night

It was Sabina's wedding day. She and her betrothed, Philo, had been in love since they had reached the age of maturity, but saved themselves for each other. Sabina was the most desirable, best looking young girl of the village, and all them men were secretly jealous of Philo and what he would have that night. His wedding night.

The happy couple had been standing in a villa in their finest clothes, preparing to exchange vows, when the Roman soldiers invaded the town.

The soldiers came in quickly, storming the small garrison of local soldiers and killing most of the inhabitants. Word reached the small wedding that the invasion had reached their town.

The attendees scattered, running back to their homes or simply hiding.

It didn't matter. It was too late. The soldiers had reached the town center and were rounding up all the males of fighting age. It was over almost before anyone realized it had begun. A few of the men had put up a weak resistance, and these were carted off in chains, if they hadn't already been run through with swords.

The sun was unforgiving that day, and Justus felt bits of sweat gathering and trickling down his body inside the heavy armor he wore as he and the other members of his troupe marched through the small town of Tolosa. In the center of their small group was a single prisoner, a man that was stripped to the waist and being pulled along in chains.

They had conquered the town remarkably quickly. There had been small pockets of resistance, easily overcome. Some prisoners had been taken and as with most newly conquered towns, examples were to be made.

The small group of roman soldiers arrived at the villa being used as a temporary prison, depositing their prisoner there. He joined about twenty other townsfolk that had been arrested for being part of the resistance effort, or for other crimes.

"That's the last of them, Centurion," said Justus, wiping his forehead of sweat.

"Great," grumbled the large commander. He and the one hundred men he commanded were all that was needed to hold the town, for now. As the military commander, the Centurion was also the governor, judge, jury and law in the town, until a Roman citizen came in to establish a civilian government.

"Time to choose the examples. Who wants to pick the victims?" The Centurion barked at the twenty or so men that were in the villa at the moment.

At twenty year old Justus was one of the younger men in the centuria, but had fought hard and was gaining respect. When his commander barked out the request, his heart started pounding. He had thought about this a lot since the last town they had occupied six months prior, and he knew what he wanted.

"I will," he spoke up. He stood.

"Justus. Huh, OK, pick one."

Justus walked over to the room in the center of the villa and looked in at the prisoners packed in like fish in an overstocked pond. "That one," he said, pointing at a young girl. Sabina

The girl had caught his eye the day before when she had been captured trying to stab one of the soldiers. She had actually drawn blood, though the man would survive with a scar.

She was young; still a teenager most likely, with long brown soft hair, a cute face, and a slim body. Justus had secretly fondled himself the night before, thinking of the young woman.

When she was arrested she had been wearing nice clothing, but they had been ripped off when she was captured and thrown in chains. She now wore only the bottom half of a common shift. Her substantial female charms were exposed and had provided Justus with images and thoughts as he lay stroking himself.

He had not brought himself to climax while dreaming this the night before, because he was billeted with ten other soldiers in a single room. No privacy. His frustration at not allowing himself to reach climax had simply increased his arousal and desire.

Now that the opportunity had suddenly presented itself, he knew instantly what he wanted.

This girl would be stripped, raped, flogged, and nailed to a wooden cross and allowed to die slowly, in agony, as an example to all her fellow townspeople. He could feel his cock hardening even now, in anticipation. He was glad for the bits of armor that covered his groin.

The Centurion looked at the girl and then at Justus with curiosity.

"Well, my young Justus. You may just have some depth I had not seen before. Bit of a cruel streak, eh? Very well. This afternoon, right after mid-day meal." The Centurion turned and stumped off to deal with some other trivial matter.

He determined the girl's name as Sabina, though none of the other soldiers cared.

Sabina had seen the soldiers looking at her and talking, but had no idea what was being said. It was not good, she figured, no way. She thought that most likely she was going to be sold as a slave. Romans did that, especially with good looking young girls. They had put a sign around her neck, a humiliation though she could not read it.

Sabina cried a bit, thinking of her lover Philo, the strong young man she had been meant to marry. In fact, they had been in the ceremony with the guests when the soldiers had come in and rounded everyone up, killing those that resisted.

Philo was the strongest, best looking man in the town, a real catch. Her girlfriends had been jealous, but the Romans had taken him before the ceremony was complete. He had resisted along with a couple of other guests, though most had run away.

She couldn't allow the soldiers to take her love away. In trying to save him she had attacked them with a knife and been taken herself. So now they were both prisoners. She had no idea if she would ever see him again, or whether they would ever consummate their vows.

All the Roman soldiers had gone off into the courtyard and were eating. Apparently the prisoners were not to be fed, or at least not then. She hoped they would feed her soon. She felt weak from hunger.

When the meal in the courtyard was over, the troupe of soldiers went in various directions, many heading to the back of the villa where the men were being held. Sabina craned her neck to try and catch a glimpse of her lover, but was unable to see anything.

But she heard something. Shouts, followed by a sort of cracking or slapping sound. She had never heard it before but... there were cries. It sounded like her betrothed Philo, and they were cries of pain. Sabina stood and moved toward the screams but the butt of a spear knocked her down onto the stone floor.

"You'll have plenty of time to see what's going on when it happens to you."

"What do you mean? That sounds like my husband, my betrothed. We were getting married and you took him! What is going to happen?"

The guard just laughed, then said roughly, "Ah, a bride! A new bride, and you interrupted them! She is a virgin!"

"Well, you may never consummate your marriage, but you will not die a virgin," Justus had just arrived and was looking at Sabina with lust. Sabina felt dirty when he looked at her. She flushed and turned away.

"She's a virgin, tonight was to be her wedding night. That guy they are nailing now." said the big guard.

"Not a virgin for long," said the smaller one and before she realized what was happening the soldier called Justus had grabbed her, placed a knife under her cloth shift, and yanked the knife upward, cutting the shift in half as it went. Sabina screamed and tried to run but tripped on her leg chains and fell on the stones, letting out an "oof" as she hit.

Justus was on top of the girl in no time, grabbing her shift and ripping it apart further, exposing more and more of her naked body. Sabina was face down on the ground and tried to fight back, but Justus, in spite of being a smaller soldier, was much more powerful than the small girl and was on top of her in a moment, overwhelming her easily.

Sabina screamed and sobbed as the soldier grabbed her hair, pushing her head back down to the ground. He was on his knees behind her, legs planted between her thighs, which forced them apart. The girl writhed beneath him, but got nowhere.

One hand holding her hair, Justus used his other to rip and pull her shift off of her waist and buttocks. Her pussy was exposed, dusty and dry, but with her legs forced open it whispered to him to enter, invited him to penetrate. This whispering went directly to Justus' cock, which was hard and waiting to be released.

Justus let go of Sabina's hair and pushed one hand down on her naked back, pressing her down on the ground. As he used his other hand to guide his cock to her slit and began the process of ramming it in, pushing past the tight, dry folds of flesh, Sabina turned her face to the side and saw her lover.

Philo was hanging from a post, unable to stand. Stripes of blood covered his body where the whip had shredded his flesh. As wounded as he was, he was conscious and slowly raised his head and saw Sabina there, her robes shredded, torn and ripped away as a young roman soldier lay on top of her and forced her legs apart.

The girl reached out one hand as if to reach for her man just as Justus' cock rammed home into her dry, uncooperative cunt. Sabina's body lurched and jerked with the driving pressure of his cock as he lay on top of her in the dust. As Justus pushed hard, trying to get inside, the girl cried out in pain.

The flogged man looked at her in pain and struggled briefly as he observed some stranger taking his love's virginity from her. As he watched in despair, several soldiers cut him down from the whipping post. His strength exhausted, he fell and was dragged a few feet away.

The girl Sabina clearly was in pain from Justus's hard fleshy protrusion penetrating her as he grunted with his thrusts. It hurt, the way he pounded into her and she cried, tears flowing and mixing with the dirt on her face. Justus drove deeper and began to move in and out, feeling the tightness of flesh gripping his cock, but the girl's attention appeared drawn to where her lover had been taken.

He had been dragged a few feet to where some wood beams lay on the ground and lay next to them. Soldiers roughly jerked his arms up to a wooden beam and held them there.

At first Sabina had no idea what was happening until the sound of the hammer hitting metal echoed and mixed with the sound of her boyfriend's screams. His body jerked as the hammer came down, and screams were renewed. Sabina watched in horror as her boyfriend was nailed to a large wooden beam.

All this happened as Sabina's cunt was being penetrated deeply, all the way to Justus' balls, which slapped against her cunt and clit. Justus had grabbed her hips and lifted them up slightly so he could control the thrusts and get deeper. His cock had stretched her hole wide, verging on splitting the flesh and causing her to bleed.

The young girl lay limp, body jerked and under the control of the roman soldier, as she covered her eyes and covered her eyes and ears in an apparent attempt to stop hearing the screams as her betrothed had his feet nailed to another wooden beam.

In the silence that followed Sabina opened her eyes. Her boyfriend lay still on the wooden beams, his knees pushed up, as his legs were forced into a bent position. Soldiers were walking around him, preparing something.

Justus felt the tight cunt flesh of the peasant girl squeeze his cock. It felt so good to fuck her. As good as he had imagined the night before. Her struggles had been fun at the beginning, but as she gave up and simply took it, he was able to lift her and position her to get all the way in, as deep as he could. He could feel his cock was ramming into her cervix and displacing her inner organs at each thrust and he tried, strained, to make his cock harder and go deeper.

Knowing he would be taking this girl and driving nails into her, raising her up to hang on the cross and then watching her suffer publicly, just made him want to ejaculate inside her even more. He grunted and moaned and heard her grunt and cry, and it brought him to a climax.

When it came he buried himself deep and let loose all that he had. Semen flooded out and filled the girl's sex cavity.

Just as the soldier grunted and moaned his way to spewing body fluid inside of her, Sabina watched other soldiers raising her love up into the air and insert his cross into a hole in the ground. He screamed once again when the wooden frame entered the hole with a thump, and his body jerked forward but was held in place by the nails in his wrists and feet.

Justus heard and felt the girl when cried out at seeing her betrothed hung up and displayed.

She was temporarily distracted by the soldier inside her body grabbing her hips and ramming home one last time. She could actually feel the pulsing of his cock as he filled her up, and then relaxing his hold as he finished.

Justus slipped out of her and she sank back down onto the dusty ground, still staring at where her former love was hanging, naked, nailed to wooden beams. Villagers from her town were actually gathering to look at him from a respectful distance. Sabina didn't understand. He was dying... why didn't they do something? Why did they just stand there and watch?

Justus stood and wiped his cock clean, returning it to the folds of his uniform. The mostly naked body of the cute girl lay before him, staring into the distance. Her legs were still spread and he could see a bit of his body fluid oozing out of the crack between her legs.

He let her lay there and marched back into the villa. He grabbed a flagon of wine and poured some into a mug.

"How was she?" Asked his centurion, who had watched the rape from inside the villa.

"Tight. Nice. Thank you," Said Justus.

"Great, let's get to putting her to death then, shall we?" The centurion said, standing and heading out.

Justus finished drinking his wine, looking outside at the naked form of the girl on the ground outside. Sabina appeared completely broken, laying still and not attempting to run. Of course, she was chained which would have slowed her down tremendously, so there was no point.

He wanted to nail her to a cross immediately. He wanted to see her hanging in front of him. But the process demanded that she be flogged first.

Justus and another soldier dragged the broken girl to the whipping post and tied her up. Once this was done, Justus was happy Sabina would be put through the whipping. Her body was completely naked now and arms and legs stretched out tight, tied to the two posts on either side of her. She sagged a bit, not because of exhaustion but out of the lack of spirit.

The remaining rags of Sabina's shift were pulled away, exposing her body completely. She was completely naked now.

The whipping brought out a new set of reactions from the poor peasant girl. The stinging slice of the whip evoked screams. Her body stiffened and struggled against the bonds that held her to the whipping posts. Her entire body was stretched and exposed, waiting for the kiss of the whip.

And the whip found every bit of flesh on Sabina's body. Her waist and torso were first, followed by back and chest. Blood stripes formed on her breasts as they jiggled from the whip impacts and her struggles. Then the leather reached down to her legs, around the thighs, wrapping around two, three times with the tip striking with extra force, tearing holes in the girl's smooth flesh.

The hot day, mixed with the pain of the whipping was making Sabina sweat profusely. Her body was shiny wet, and each stroke of the whip caused a fine wet mist to explode into the air. Her dirty hair stuck to her shoulders and breasts.

To the side, Philo hung from his cross and was able to see his beloved tortured. He cried out in agony and frustration, unable to move or do anything to help his almost-wife.

After a half hour of flogging in which Sabina's smooth flesh was striped with red cuts and trickling blood, she was cut down and allowed to drop to the ground in a heap.

The centurion ordered a cross brought over and positioned next to a hole, not far from where Philo had been raised up. No one knew (or cared) that the male was in fact this girl's betrothed.

"You should do the honors, since she's your choice," grunted the centurion, handing the large mallet and some large spikes to Justus.

Justus stood over the girl as she slowly tried to pull herself to her feet. Now the shapeless sack which had covered her body was gone, the sensuality of her firm body was fully exposed. The girl was truly beautiful.

Justus took the butt of his spear and whacked the girl in the chest with it, sending her sailing backward.

"Stay down. Time to be nailed."

Sabina heard the roman soldier but didn't understand at first, she was still trying to catch her breath from the hard knock on her chest. But when she was dragged a few feet and had her arms stretched out on top of the wooden beam, she began to understand.

She screamed out in terror and struggled.

Three men held the poor naked girl down, keeping her from struggling away. Her naked hips bucked like an unbroken horse, her legs flailed about like a drowning swimmer. Only her upper body, her shoulders and arms stayed still because they were held in place by the soldiers.

Justus took her right arm in hand and positioned it above the wood beam, forcing the wrist around so it was palm up as he had seen other soldiers do. Once it was in place he took a spike and positioned it against the girl's wrist. He stopped for a moment, thinking about the smooth white skin where it contrasted with the dark metal. As soon as he swung the mallet, it would drive inside, causing horrendous pain and damage.

The wrist seemed so small, so delicate. The spike he held was huge in comparison.

The girl had stopped thrashing for a moment and was simply sobbing, crying and pleading. "No.. no, please... no... please no... "

Justus looked at the girl's face. He was reminded of just how beautiful this young thing was. She had been a delight to penetrate, and luscious to feel surrounding his cock. And now she was begging him for mercy.

The mallet swung down as hard as he could make it fall, slamming into the spike and driving it all the way through the girl's wrist. She screamed, a blood curdling scream of agony and her face changed from a mask of desperation to a mask of agony.

Justus slammed the mallet down twice more, feeling the hard wood underneath as the point sunk home in the beam. There was remarkably little blood from where the girl's white flesh puckered a little from the pressure of the spike. Her hand stopped moving, the fingers curling slightly into a claw.

The soldier that was helping to hold Sabina's right arm down rose with Justus. That arm was secured and would go nowhere. Time to focus on the left arm.

Sabina's breasts were heaving up and down with her sobbing, eyes staring wildly as her mind tried to comprehend the excruciating pain that was ripping through her right arm. Her stomach pumped up and down from her panting, her hips had begun to writhe again, exposing her moistened cunt.

Justus took time to slide his hands across the naked girl's breasts and stomach. He wished he could have had more time with her. She was young, nubile, lovely.

The left arm was ready for him with he arrived at the other end of the beam. How delicate her wrist was, how small and white. What a lovely thing to ruin so utterly with a spike. Her fingers were flexing into a fist and then opening as she struggled; but her arm was held in place by another soldier.

Grabbing her hand and forcing it to be still Justus positions the spike just right. The girl's screams became louder as she felt the point of the spike.

He hesitated just for a moment before bringing the mallet down, hard. This time he was more aware of the soft crunch that the spike made when it drove through the girl's wrist; the feeling of resistance he got from the mallet-- not hard like wood, firm but soft. Flesh, tendon, bone.

Subsequent strikes of the mallet were harder-- the spike was penetrating wood. It only took a few more strikes to drive the nail all the way until the head pressed against the girl's flesh.

Once the nail was in place, all the soldiers released their hold on the girl and stepped back. She wasn't going anywhere, and any struggles would just prove to increase her suffering. A leather bota bag of wine was passed around, and the men drank as the girl sobbed and twisted on the wooden beam.

"Now is the time for anyone else that want's a piece of her, before her feet are nailed!" Called out the Centurion.

An older soldier named Lucretius stepped forward. He was ugly, incompetent and barely pulled his own weight during battles. "I ain't had none in a long time and she's ripe," he grunted.

The soldiers laughed. "She's been lubed for you by Justus!"

Lucretius fell to his knees in front of the girl and wormed his way in between her legs. It took a little while to get his cock hard and Sabrina looked at him in horror. The pain in her arms had become dull and she was more aware of what was happening. When the ugly creature's cock entered her easily, she turned her head away and closed her eyes.

Lucretius came almost immediately. After a few thrusts he put his hands on the girl's breasts, squeezed as hard as he could, and moaned. At the last moment he pulled out and moved to her face, stroking himself until his semen spurted all over Sabina's face. Some got into her eyes, some up her nose. She shook her head in disgust but this served simply to spread the semen a bit wider on her flesh.

There was nothing she could do. Her wrists were nailed to the cross and she would never again be able to do anything except hang on display.

"That's it! Nail her feet!" said the Centurion. Justus moved in and grabbed Sabina's feet, raising them slightly to bend her knees, and crossing them over one another. A single spike was positioned over the top of her foot and driven in.

This time Justus could feel the crunching and breaking of bones as the spike crushed and rammed through the flesh. Once it was driven all the way through into the wood he stood back and watched the rest of the process.

The final step of the crucifixion was in some ways the most important. Placing the victim on display. Raising them up to be seen by all. Every bit of their body exposed as the agony of slow death came over them. There were about 100 villagers that had gathered to watch the crucifixions, mostly men. There would be more later, after the crucified had hung for a while.

The cross with Sabina nailed to it was lifted up, her naked form becoming visible to more and more people as it rose. She was stationary on it, the nails kept her from moving about. Until the cross reached the upright position and sank into the hole, that is.

At that point, at the point of being raised to upright, Sabina's body sank down suddenly, her body weight jerking against the nails in her wrists. The scream that ensued could be heard all the way back into the town.

The cross suddenly sank deep into the hole dug for it earlier, jerking Sabina's body down once again. This time she screamed again and urine splattered from between her spread legs. The pain had been so great she lost body control. The crowd surrounding her gasped and pulled back, shocked at the sight.

After the stream of urine subsided and the screams diminished to crying gasps for air, the crowd returned, observing the poor girl's agony. Her body was hanging out, slightly away from the cross; the wooden beams had tilted very slightly forward, causing Sabina's body to hang away from the cross.

The semen on her face dried quickly in the hot sun and became crusty. The semen in her cunt slowly drained and dried on her inner thighs. Flies buzzed around both, eager for the sweaty fluid.

The two victims were hanging on crosses next to each other, the angle such that they could observe one another. Sabina looked over and saw her young man, her lover and betrothed, hanging just as she was. He was gasping, drawing breath but clearly in agonizing pain.

Sabina felt the horrible cramping slowly extending through her arms and reaching her shoulders. Her feet were burning and throbbing, and she couldn't feel her hands. Her hair had stuck to the semen on her face, and the flies were itching terribly... and she couldn't wave them away.

Justus stood between the two victims. His cock remembered what delight this girl's body had given him. He wondered if this man's cock had ever been inside, but he thought not. The rumors had been true, this girl had been a virgin when he took her.

It seemed a shame that this suspended man would never feel the inside of his woman's body.

The two victims hung there. Justus enjoyed the sight for a while, seeing two bodies on display, in obvious agony, crying and panting, trying to cope and endure, their minds slowly yielding to the insane pain.

And then the townspeople. Such odd behavior, that so many would come to see the young man and woman. Trying to get close. Trying to grasp and observe all their humiliation and pain in intricate detail.

Justus himself was looking at how the girl's muscles moved under her flesh. Her skin was stretched tight because she was hanging from her arms, and the bones of her ribs were visible. The lines of her muscles were also visible, stretched and occasionally jerking as her body tried to cope with the pain of hanging there. He drew close and observed his own body fluid where it had drained from the girl, drying on her legs.

Sabina's face was a mask of pain, a grimace on her face, drool coming from her mouth, snot draining from her nose, flies landing on her face to feed. She was grunting, no longer crying or screaming, merely grunting. Her head hung forward, her hair scraggly and hanging on either side of her face.

It was getting boring. Justus left. He had rounds to do around the village and would come visit his girl sometime in the evening. It was unlikely she would die that quickly.

It was late that night when Justus finally was able to return. He hoped his girl had not died yet. He wanted to observed her suffering once more, to capture it in his mind.

"Are they still suffering?" Justus asked the lone guard. Torches were set up around the site, illuminating the condemned victims.

"Yeah. The guy there was screaming a little while ago, I guess one of the spikes cut through and broke one of the bones in his wrist, but he's settled down. The girl seems to be holding up well. She might last a few days."

Justus observed the two for a bit, then turned to the guard and gave him a denarius. "Let me watch them a while. Go get some wine. Take a nap. I will stand guard."

The guard didn't need encouragement. He took the coin and headed back to the villa.

Justus stood back and observed the male and female bodies hanging nailed to wooden frames before him. Neither seemed very aware of his presence, they were half conscious, swathed in pain that prevented them from sleeping, but still exhausted beyond belief.

His cock was hard and he reached under his roman soldier's uniform to touch himself. Stroking idly, he walked over to the boy. He was hanging a few feet higher, so his chest was at Justus' eye level. He saw Justus and croaked something.

"What's that?" Justus asked.

"Water..." the croak came.

"Oh. Water. No, you don't get water. You shouldn't want water, it will only prolong your suffering. But no, you are being executed, and aren't allowed water. You may die of thirst, actually."

The boy let out a sob, but there were no tears.

Justus reached out and touched the boy's genitals. So soft, the fleshy protrusion between the boy's legs was there, available, ready for touching and playing. There was nothing the boy could do about it-- he was hanging from the cross.

"Are you a virgin?" Justus asked the boy. There was no answer, so Justus grabbed the boy's exposed testicles and squeezed. "Are you a virgin!?"

Philo spit out the word, "yes!" and then looked over at Sabina, hanging naked a few feet away from him.

"Oh.... I see. This one. You wanted her. Instead I took her and you are left dying without ever having been inside a woman. You poor man."

Justus looked around and pointed at a merchant from the village who had come to watch, to gawk at the suffering victims.

"You! Come here!"

The man shuffled over, a terrified look on his face.

"Suck him. Give him pleasure!" Justus demanded, pointing at the crucified boy's cock dangling before them.

"No.. no! I can not!" The merchant backed away.

"Of course you can," Justus said. He grabbed the merchant and ripped his toga off, exposing a lean body underneath. He kicked the man, his boot striking the man on the back, knocking him down before the cross.

He screamed and rose, trying to get up.

Two more hard kicks of Justus' boot knocked the merchant down at the nailed feet of the victim. When he was finally allowed to get up, he took the crucified man's cock and placed it in his mouth. He began sucking.

"Oho! Our dear assistant here has some experience at this. Look, the cock is hard already!"

The crucified man sobbed, a few real tears squeezing out and down his face. He was humiliated, there were perhaps 20 villagers around, people he knew. His sister was in the back, looking horrified at how he was being degraded.

And he hated the fact that his cock had become hard in front of all these people, and that a man had done it.

He had never been inside a woman, his betrothed hung naked beside him watching this older man sucking his hardened cock, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Play with his balls," cried one of the soldiers. Justus cracked his whip and the merchant reached to the testicles hanging down and began to roll then about in his hand as he continued moving his head back and forth.

There came an especially loud moan and the merchant pulled back instinctively. Semen began to ooze from the crucified man's erect cock. The merchant had stopped when he sensed the man was going to ejaculate and had withdrawn, removing the ongoing stimulation.

He had ruined the crucified man's last orgasm. The ultimate humiliation and insult. Bits of white fluid drained slowly from the head of the erect cock, sliding down the shaft and onto the distended scrotum.

"Delightful!" Justus returned to the man, taking his cock in hand and examining it. "You must thank me for giving me you pleasure while you die."

The man gathered enough strength to swear at Justus. "May you die a thousand deaths in the bowels of Gehemoth."

"Oh! He has some strength in him. Well, I think we can not let this pass. I think perhaps we need to allow you and your betrothed here a wedding night. She's a virgin too... well, she was until I fucked her earlier."

Justus laughed then removed a small sharpened dagger from his belt. "I hope this doesn't help you die faster, but it probably will. Still, it is worth it."

He grabbed the cock and balls of the crucified man and stretched them out and away from the body. The sharp dagger blade went to the base of the cock and Justus began sawing at the flesh. This action caused a round of renewed screaming. The crucified man struggled, but his feet and wrists were nailed and he was going nowhere.  The crowd gasped as the soldier continued sawing off the man's genitals.

It took a little while, for even though the knife was sharp, there was a bit of flesh to cut through. He didn't stop at the cock, but kept cutting deeply into the crotch, removing the scrotum at its base. Eventually he was done, and held up the man's cock and balls in the air.

"Shall we see if we can impregnate his bride? It is his wedding night!"

A few of the soldiers laughed, the townspeople watching stood in horror as Justus walked a couple of paces to where Sabina hung, arms outstretched, on her own cross.

Justus reached between Sabinba's legs and spread her cunt lips. She was still lubricated and juicy from the earlier rapes, with some semen dribbled on her leg. He took the severed penis and rubbed it on the glob of semen on her inner thigh then pushed it up inside the woman's cunt.

Of course, the cock was no longer hard; it did retain some of its size though so insertion into the cunt's vagina did not come easily. The crucified man's semen remained smeared on his detached cock, mixed with Justus' semen and helped the phallus slid in.

Justus pushed it in all the way to the scrotum. Sabina's vaginal lips spread wide to accommodate her betrothed's cock.

"There! Now you have consummated your marriage!" Justus said to the young woman.

She looked down in horror, her cunt now filled with her betrothed several genital.

Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she sobbed in pain that went beyond the agony of the cross. She bucked her hips, trying to dislodge the horror that had been inserted into her, but it was too far in.

The centurion had been observing all of this from a few yards away. He was half drunk, having imbibed in some of the wedding wine they had captured the day before. One hand was under his uniform, stroking himself as he concentrated on the suffering of the pretty young girl on the cross.

Justus' antics struck him as extreme, but he did nothing to stop it. Maybe he'd assign some extra guard duty to the boy, just to get him back in line. For now... he had to admit it was a fun show.

Philo was dead by morning, the damage to his crotch causing him to bleed out and die. His body hung where Sabina could see him, up close. He no longer breathed, no longer moved, not even in pain.

Sabina tried to cry but couldn't. She no longer had the strength or the fluid. She had sweated most of it out the day before.

And her cunt was still full, distended. Flies had gathered at her crotch, covering her because of the dried blood and decaying genitals of her lover, exposed and rotting slowly inside her vagina.

After sunrise, about 40 or 50 of the town's residents had come out to observe her. Her sister came and stood below her, staring up at the corruption between Sabina's legs. She shook her head and left a few minutes later.

Sabina heard crying and laughter in the audience below her. Some were shocked by her suffering. Others were enjoying it.

Around noon the sun had become so hot she would have sweat heavily, had there been fluid left in her, but there was none. She twisted around on the cross some. The pain in her wrists had become a dull ache, her hands were numb. She figured her hands were dead and the corruption was working its way down her arms.

The world tilted and rolled. She felt like she was upside down for a while, but then someone splashed water in her face and she opened her eyes-- she was still hanging there. The water wasn't enough to drink-- she tried to get some with her tongue, but only got a drop or two. Not even enough to wet her entire tongue.

The young soldier that had crucified her earlier came by and stared at her.

"You are truly beautiful," Justus said, looking up at the perfect body hanging from the wooden frame.

He reached up between her legs, grabbed the decaying genitals of her dead lover, and shoved them in and out a few times.

Sabina didn't react. She was too weak.

The cock and balls remained jammed into her cunt, and were there when her heart stopped beating an hour later.

Philo and Sabina were left up on the crosses for a week for all to see. Their bodies changed from the beautiful young betrothed couple that everyone envied to bloated carcasses that had been picked apart by birds.

No one looked at them any more.

When Sabina was finally brought down and buried by the soldiers, she was buried with her lover's cock and balls still in her crotch.

Monday, February 26, 2018

The Empress's Old Lovers

Drusilla was grunting in a very unlady-like manner on her hands and knees, toga pulled up around her waist and also pulled down from her shoulders, exposing her young and perfect breasts.

Those breasts were bouncing back and forth as Drusilla's body was being pounded by a muscular, handsome young man from behind. His cock was deep inside her rectum, driving in and out like a piston. Each thrust pushed air from Drusilla's lungs making the small involuntary grunting noise that mixed with her voluntary whimpers.

Archillus, her latest lover, was big. Big like Drusilla liked. His cock made her feel like she was being split open, that she would be permanently damaged. Each time they fucked she checked herself and was amazed she wasn't bleeding profusely.

Looks, hard body, big cock, insatiable sex drive-- these were the key characteristics of Drusilla's lovers.

She'd gone through several young men since marrying the emperor-- the old, addled man that kept her in clothes and riches and demanded very little in the way of sex. She found them, seduced them, used them, then threw them away.

Archillus was grunting with effort as well. He grabbed Drusilla's hair as if she was a horse and her long blond locks were the reins. Her pretty face jerked up as he pulled and used the leverage to thrust into her harder. He was going to cum soon. Her tight little anus and rectum was squeezing and rubbing his cock hard, just how he liked it.

Drusilla wasn't close to cumming though. Archillus had been fucking her so hard it was impossible for her to keep one hand on her clit, to rub and bring herself to the climax she needed. First he had grabbed her arms and kept them in back of her, raising her body up. When he finally let go he was deep inside and thrusting hard, and she kept falling forward.

And there he went! Archillus almost yelled a groan out as his hips shuddered and thrust. Drusilla could actually feel the warm body fluid squirting inside her bowels, along with the pulsing of the soldier's cock in her anus.

Suddenly it was over and Archillus was pulling his cock out of her. Drusilla's anus squeezed and clung to the retreating cock as if trying to suck it back in. When it finally slipped all the way out Archillus fell over on the bed beside the empress, panting.

Drusilla rolled over as well, laying on her back. She wiped a bit of sweat from her forehead and felt a bit of semen oozing from her anus onto the bedding below her ass. Reaching her right hand over she touched his lingering erection, feeling the slickness of body fluid covering it. Her body. Her fluid.

When she let go and brought her hand back to her face she saw the blood. He had actually split her open this time. It felt like it, though it often felt like it. This was the first time it had really happened though, at least in any large amount.

She reached down and felt her ass, spreading the cheeks and fingering her sore anus. It stung badly and when her fingers returned they were wet and red.

With a slight smile on her face Drusilla wiped a small amount of the blood on her face, then screamed.

Archillus started, jerking upright. He stared at the young girl next to him with concern, then got up and walked around to her, kneeling in front of where she was laying. Still screaming. Blood streaked face.

Guards entered the room in a rush, answering Drusilla's cries.

Archillus turned to them. "There's something wrong with--"

"He raped me! He hit me, knocked me down! Then shoved himself in me!" Screamed Drusilla.

Archillus looked at her in surprise.

"Arrest him!" Drusilla pointed, accusingly. Tears streaked her face, creating lines that cut across the bloody smears. More guards entered, the captain of the guard, and then... her husband. The emperor.

"My dear, what happened?" He asked weakly. Archillus was being held by two guards, his naked body smeared with blood around the groin. There were bits of matching blood on Drusilla's face and between her legs. It was pretty obvious what had happened.

"No! Wait, this isn't what it seems!" Cried Archillus.

"Take him away," The emperor waved. Archillus was dragged from the chamber, yelling at Drusilla, cursing, pleading, explaining. No one listened.

Archillus was thrown into a stone cell, a small room at the bottom of the barracks near the palace. The room was three meters by two meters, no larger. A barred window let in a little light. A hole in the corner of the floor served as the toilet.

He wasn't the only one in this cell.

There was another young man in the cell.  Another young soldier, just like him, named Aurelius. Aurelius had been in the cell for a several months. He had been arrested for sedition and thrown in jail; the arrest was based on the testimony of someone Aurelius had never met or seen.

As they talked it came out that he had also been a lover of Drusilla. He had been arrested almost to the day that Drusilla had begun fucking Archillus.

They put one and one together and came up with the conclusion. They were both lovers of Drusilla, and both had outlived their usefulness. In addition they remembered a year before a young, hardened soldier with a good reputation had been put to death on the cross for stealing in the palace. Stealing some of Drusilla's jewelry, in fact.

Aurelius had actually been on the execution squad and had driven a spike into the young man's wrist, and watched him die. "They crucified him naked. He had a large, impressive member, I recall. It grew hard as he hung suspended and exposed on the cross. It must have been humiliating for him."

In a quiet voice, he asked Archillus, "Are you well endowed?"

In response, Archillus slid off his tattered, dirty toga, showing his muscular body and a massive cock. Aurelius did the same. Their bodies were both about the same. Muscular, young, and very well endowed.

"She likes well endowed men, I guess." Said Aurelius, who sat down in the tiny cell with hands over his face. "We are doomed."

It was clear the empress was using young men then disposing of them. It was most likely they would be executed, perhaps even by crucifixion.

Archillus had never seen a man with a cock as large as his own, and couldn't help staring. He compared himself to the other man's cock. He wondered who was larger. They sat in the cell together, had been there for a couple of days with nothing but food twice a day to break the monotony. Seeing Aurelius' cock was the first interesting thing that had happened.

"Is it larger when hard?" He asked, finally.

"What? Is what-- oh... Yes. Sort of. Of course." Aurelius said. He leaned back on the one hard wood platform that served as a bed-- enough room for one. He stroked his cock a few times and it grew hard almost instantly.

"Wow... you get hard fast," said Archillus. He was unconsciously stroking his own cock at the same time and it was standing out from his naked body. Aurelius laughed, pointing.

"Who's talking? Look at yourself."

Archillus blushed, and stopped, he reached over and grabbed his toga, but Aurelius stopped him. "I think you are larger than me," he said.

The cell was so small they were constantly no more than a couple of feet from each other, and all it took was Aurelius to stand up and his cock was stiff and erect, right next to Archillus' cock. They touched, in fact, as Aurelius compared them. "Yes. I think you are slightly larger than me."

The comparison over, the two men should have retreated and put on their togas once again, but they didn't. They stood, facing each other, their cocks next to each other. Brushing against one another.

Aurelius reached down and cupped Archillus' scrotum and balls. "And your balls are heavy," he said in a low voice.

Archillus was looking down, watching as his own cock bounced with his heart beat it was so engorged. They were alone. Aurelius was a handsome man. There was nothing to do in the cell.

Aurelius took hold of his cock and Archillus's cock and pressed them together. Archillus made a slight gasping sound at the firm touch and closed his eyes. His cock was hard as a rock and wasn't getting any softer. He had never been sexual with another man, but somehow the feeling of their cocks touching excited him tremendously.

Aurelius began moving the cocks back and forth, rubbing them. Archillus felt himself getting weak at the knees and reached out to rest his hands on the wall for support. They ended up on Aurelius' shoulders, instead, and Archillus leaned against his cell mate as their cocks continued rubbing faster.

Suddenly Archillus heard Aurelius moan and grunt and then felt warmth covering his groin. He looked down and saw Aurelius massive member spurting semen over his own cock and balls as Aurelius climaxed.

Archillus came soon after, spurting his own load onto Aurelius' genitals, covering them completely with a slick layer of body fluid. When his orgasm began to fade, he slid down and sat on the one bed, put his head in his hands and moaned. "I... I am sorry. I have never done anything like that..."

Aurelius scoffed and laughed. "It is about time you learned then. Young maidens like the lovely but evil Drusilla are not the only source of pleasure."

So it was that Archillus and Aurelius began a short lived sexual relationship. They had no emotional ties, other than the friendship that arises from facing the same fate in prison. But they began to explore each other for new and interesting ways to pleasure each other. There was little else to do in the prison cell.

One day Drusilla entered the hallway just outside of their barred cell. She looked lovely, her hair silky and flowing, face youthful and clear, her breasts wobbling slightly under the toga that draped over them.

"I hear my two former lovers have become lovers themselves," she said with a smirk.

Archillus came to the bars and grabbed them. "Drusilla, please! We had something, I have always been faithful to you, and love you! Please, whatever I have to do!"

He begged to the young girl outside the cell, falling to his knees. Drusilla watched with disdain, and finally cut him off.

"You are anything but faithful to me. You are scheduled for execution two days from now." She leaned in, her face close to the handsome young man's. "Crucifixion. I wonder how long you will last exposed on the cross. The days have been hot recently."

Archillus paled at that. He had actually assisted in the crucifixion of several people, and was well aware of just how horrible a fate it was. The scourging, the nails being pounded through bone and tendon, then being lifted up on display as the victim suffered for all to see. The agony was horrific.

"No... Drusilla... please don't... ban me, punish me. Send me to Gaul. Just... not that..."

Aurelius was in the back of the cell, refusing to beg.

"How about you, Aurelius? Do you want to avoid being hung on the cross?" Drusilla asked with a sweet smile.

"Of course I do, Drusilla. But I won't beg because I know it won't accomplish anything."

"Well, if you were to do something for me, I might be able to postpone the execution. Perhaps even get it commuted to banishment."

That sparked Aurelius curiosity. "What is it then?"

"Show me what you two have been doing? Let me see how two men pleasure themselves together."

The two men looked at each other. Drusilla looked serious. They had been engaging in sex with each other for a while now... it was sooo boring in the cell and there was nothing else to do. But in front of this woman? They protested. Drusilla insisted, and when it appeared she was going to let them hang from the crucifixion tree they capitulated.

Clothes off, the two naked men sat where Drusilla could observe through the bars. Reaching down between them, they took their cocks, both hard now as Drusilla watched, and pressed them together. Archillus slid his cock inside Aurelius' foreskin, and then pulled back, letting Aurelius' foreskin cover his own hardened member.

In this way, they began pushing back and forth, using their cocks to fuck each other. They pumped back and forth, pushing and grunting, Drusilla watching with fascination as the two muscular men pressed the heads of their cocks against each other and fucked away.

Suddenly, Aurelius moaned and his cock pulsed, white creamy semen bursting out over both the men's cocks. Archillus didn't stop, he simply renewed his efforts, using the other man's foreskin and cock to rub his own member to climax. The semen slid over both their phalluses and creamed white by the violent jerking of Archillus as he finally reached his own orgasm, spewing white semen all over the cock and groin of Aurelius.

Drusilla laughed and clapped her hands. "Oh, that was good! Do it again! Oh, wait, you can't can you. Men have that problem. OK, well, I shall return tomorrow to see more. Prepare for me, will you? I will be back."

So it was that Drusilla postponed the two soldier's death sentence as long as they continued putting on homosexual sex shows for her. She brought some friends with her, next time. Two other young women who watched and clapped in glee as Archillus inserted himself into Aurelius rectum and grunted and thrust to an orgasm. The women insisted on seeing the white gooey liquid seeping from his anus. "Push it out! Push it out!" They cheered as he grunted and pushed the white stuff out and let it drain over his scrotum.

A week later the two men were placed in chains and brought to a private chamber where Drusilla had a dozen of her special female friends. Aurelius and Archillus were forced to perform once again, in the middle of the marble floor, naked for the women to see and observe as they sucked each other, kissed (neither liked kissing the other at all), fucked each other in the asses, sucked again (they both hated that, tasting the other man's shit).

The women delighted in seeing the men ejaculate on the other man. They demanded Aurelius ejaculate on the face of Archillus. Archillus was made to ejaculate on the cock and balls of Aurelius, and then the two men were forced to rub their wet genitals and smear the semen, thrusting their hips as if they were fucking women.

Both soldiers were humiliated beyond belief. Yes, they had engaged in some homosexual behavior in the prison cell; there was nothing else to do. Literally. Secured in a cramped, small space together, they simply had become familiar with each other, and had engaged in sex. Lovers, no. Just sex. But to be forced to perform in front of these women like this, over and over-- it sat inside them like acid, eating from the inside out.

One day Drusilla had the two prisoners dragged out and hung Archillus up between two columns by chains, then demanded that Aurelius suck him and jerk him until he spurted, but collect his semen in a small bowl. Aurelius did as he was told, sucking his cell mate until he was ready, then had him ejaculate into the bowl.

Drusilla demanded that he do it again; Aurelius complied, though this time it took longer. The third time Drusilla demanded, Aurelius was only able to obtain a small amount of clear semen.

"Drink it," Drusilla demanded. Aurelius looked down at the small pool of white, cloudy liquid in the bowl.

"Drink it," Drusilla demanded. Aurelius felt like he was going to vomit and after a moment he threw the bowl of semen at Drusilla, the white slime splattering on her face and hair.

Two days later Archillus and Aurelius were stripped naked and led to an outside courtyard in chains. Both were chained to whipping posts and two soldiers appeared with long whips. A wide variety of men and a few women attended the whipping, circling the courtyard.

The crack of the whips against the two men's bare backs, buttocks and legs, echoed in the courtyard. At first, there was no sound except for the whips slicing into the flesh of the two men and the distant sounds of the streets over the palace walls.

Then Aurelius began to grunt from the impacts and pain. Archillus soon followed suit; before long both men were crying out with the pain as the whipping wore them down and their flesh began to split open and become ragged.

In a private balcony above the courtyard Drusilla sat and watched the whipping. Her legs were parted and one hand was inserted under her dress, rubbing hard. The sound of the men's cries, the echoing of the sharp crack of whips on flesh, both seemed to drive her on harder, faster. When one of the men cried out especially loudly, her hand would pick up the tempo and she would gasp.

Finally Drusilla's head leaned back, eyes closed, as she listened to the screams of the men below as their backs and buttocks were shredded to meat. Her legs shook and spread as wide as they could, and she herself cried out, in orgasmic pleasure.

When the whipping was over, the two men were hanging from their chains like two sides of beef. Upon release they collapsed on the ground, moaning.

Two heavy beams of wood were dragged in from the side of the courtyard and plopped down next to each man. The men were grabbed by soldiers, dragged until they lay with the beams under their shoulders, then tied the men's wrists to the beams. They lay on the ground, arms outstretched, looking at the sky.

The beams were suddenly lifted up, carrying the men with them. Once in a standing position, a centurion demanded, "Move ahead! Through the gate!"

When they hesitated the centurion whipped them viciously, and both men staggered out of the courtyard into the street.

A crowd had gathered in the street, aware that an execution was to take place that day. Rumors of the men being crucified had circulated, and the crowd had an unusually large number of women in it, come to gawk at the naked men suffering. They were rewarded by two very well built young men, naked and staggering under the weight of the large wooden beams they carried.

Aurelius and Archillus walked down the packed dirt street, barely able to stand under the weight of the wooden beam. The crowd jeered and threw things at them. Archillus fell a few buildings down, the heavy beam landing on his back when he hit the ground, forcing a loud grunt from him. The centurion whipped Archillus' buttock and legs, demanding that he rise and move on.

It took nearly half an hour to get out of the city and up the small hill to the place of crucifixion. The two men were exhausted beyond belief, and fell to the ground when they were stopped. Their naked bodies were covered with blood from the whipping, sweat from exertion in the heat, and dirt that had caked on.

News of the handsome, fit young men on the execution hill had quickly spread through the city. Men had come to observe, but there were more women by far. Young women, old women. Mothers. Young girls, all looking to get a glimpse of the naked hard bodies of the two soldiers being executed.

Drusilla arrived and stood before the two men where they lay on the ground.

"I tried to help you. You could have postponed this. You could have even been banished. Instead, you decided to be uncooperative, to not play with me. Well, now you will put on your final show."

The empress stood and waved at the soldiers to proceed.

Archillus was rolled over onto his back. His arms were still spread out, tied to the patibulum, ready for the spikes. The centurion came over with a large mallet and positioned the first spike over Archillus' right wrist. There was no waiting, no ceremony, just a sudden impact that drove the spike deep within the man's soft tissue, deep between the bones of his wrist, tearing and shredding the tendons, smashing nerves and muscles.

Archillus let out a scream as loud as any he had emitted while being whipped. The crowd nearby made a uniform noise of wonder-- gasps, moans, giggles. Hearing a strong soldier scream in agony was not a common thing. The crowd began whispering, talking among themselves, and women jostled to get a better look at the hard body being nailed to a wooden beam.

The job was finished quickly. Archillus continued to scream as the nail went in and entered the wood beneath his wrist, and then renewed his screams as another spike secured his left wrist to the beam as well. When the spikes were well embedded in the wood, the ropes were untied and the only thing that held Archillus to the beam were the spikes; but they were secure. Archillus was going nowhere.

Aurelius was next. His screams during the nailing were more muted, more sobs and grunts, mixed and cries for mercy.

Drusilla watched this all with satisfaction. Her only regret was that she couldn't touch herself out here, in the open, with the public looking on.

The execution hill had five upright posts permanently buried in the ground. Stipes, the upright of the cross, ready for victims. These were never removed, they simply waited for new victims nailed to a patibulum to be mounted on top of the stipes.

Three soldiers grabbed Aurelius by the beam to which he was nailed, and lifted him up. This brought a new wave of moans and cries from the poor victim, as his weight was dragged along with the beam as it was raised up to the top of the stipes. A short ladder assisted a soldier who positioned and affixed the beam to the top of the stipes.

Aurelius hung from the cross now, his arms stretched wide and feet dangling. His toes turned down, reaching for the ground below him, just barely reaching the dirt. He tried desperately to find a foothold to help him lift the weight of his body, to relieve the stretching pressure that dragged on his nailed wrists. But he was just a bit too short.

It didn't matter. The soldiers grabbed his feet and forced his knees to bend. Aurelius' feet were positioned on either side of the stipes. The centurion brought a spike, held it to Aurelius' left ankle, and hit it with his mallet. The spike penetrated flesh, immediately hit the bones of the ankle, cracking and separating them into tiny pieces. Two more heavy whacks and the spike had penetrated the ankle completely, leaving it a ruined mess, and had embedded into the wood beam upright.

Aurelius screams while his ankles were being nailed to the side of the stipes were muted, his breathing labored. He was weakened and the agonizing pain of having his ankles shattered and broken brought such overwhelming pain and shock that he lost consciousness, sagging down on the cross, head limp. The second spike pinned his right ankle to the stipes with no screams or pleas for mercy.

Drusilla suddenly stepped forward, just as they were about to lift Archillus up onto the cross.

"Put him on his knees before the other one."

The two soldiers on either side of the patibulum lifted it until Archillus was on his knees, and moved him forward until he was before Aurelius, who was reviving from his brief blackout. Archillus was panting, groaning with the pain of the spikes in his wrists, unable to hold himself upright while carrying the heavy patibulum. The two soldiers held the wood beam up, keeping Archillus upright and on his knees.

Drusilla knelt next to Archillus. "Suck him."

Archillus slowly turned his head to Drusilla in disbelief and pain.

"Do it. Suck him, or I will arrange for your death to last a week, or more. Make him spew his semen and you may be allowed to go quickly."

Archillus turned and saw Aurelius' cock standing out before him. It was half erect, a strange thing considering he was in agony. There was something about being suspended on the cross that caused constriction and increased blood flow, at least initially.

Archillus slowly took the cock into his mouth. First the head slid in and Archillus skillfully rubbed it with his tongue, letting the head slip in and out of his lips. He had done this a number of times when bored to tears back in the cell. This was different. He was on display. Being executed. This was humiliation, showing the crowd surrounding him just how low he had sunk. Tears streamed down his face as he took more of the cock in.

"All the way in. Show the crowd just how you can do it!" Drusilla demanded. She pushed his head toward the crucified man's hips. Archillus took the entire, monstrous cock of his one time lover all the way in and gagged. Vomit came up and covered the cock and balls, splattering on the ground.

Aurelius was shuddering above, his body hanging forward from the cross slightly. His ankles would not support him so he had sagged down from his pinioned wrists, and was breathing heavily. His cock was engorged and large, standing up by itself when Archillus backed away for a moment.

Drusilla had one of the soldiers hit Archillus in the back of the head with the butt of a spear, demanding "Get back in there! Make him cum on you!"

Aurelius was moaning, a combination of the thundering pain in his wrists and ankles, and the sensations of sexual pleasure and gathering sperm inside his groin. He was humiliated as well. He was being sucked off during his execution, another man taking him and arousing him against his will. He was unable to move, being nailed down to a cross, and unable to control his own body reactions as Archillus expertly sucked his cock.

All at once he let out a loud moan and spurt a huge load of semen directly into Archillus' mouth. It was a huge load, filling all of the mouth and spurting out of his lips, dribbling onto the chin as it came.  Drusilla laughed and clapped.

There was a line of women in the front of the watching crowd, and they saw the ejaculation clearly. The cock pulsed, the hips moved slightly, thrusting. Archillus opened his mouth and a flood of semen flowed out like a waterfall, over his chin and onto his chest.

Once Aurelius had ejaculated, Archillus moaned and slumped to the side, the patibulum he was nailed to preventing him from falling all the way sideways. As the beam hit the ground it jerked his wrists and he screamed in agony.

"Please! Drusilla! Please... let me go..."

"Oh you are dead already, Archillus. You will never survive this nailing, even if I had the spikes removed, you would die from the corruption in the wounds and blood loss from the whipping. No, no. You will be hung from the cross today, and die... well, maybe tomorrow? The day after? We shall see. So shall all the rest that are here..."

She waved to the crowd, mostly women now, that had come to observe.

Archillus dropped his head as if he no longer had strength to hold it up, which was at least partly true.

"Mount him!" Called Drusilla to the soldiers.

With that command, three soldiers lifted Archillus up and positioned his patibulum over the stipes right next to that of Aurelius. It slid into place with a light thunk and Archillus groaned, grunted, and cried out in pain from the jerk. He was now hanging, his body dead weight suspended from the spikes in his wrists.

"Let's give you a bit more support, shall we? Help you to last a bit longer on the cross." Drusilla said cruelly.

The soldiers grabbed Archillus legs and forced them to bend, pushing them to the side of the cross. The centurion then pounded a huge spike into the victim's ankle, causing a new round of exhausted screaming as the bones were shattered and nerves torn and shredded.

Once both of Archillus' legs were nailed to the stipes, everyone took a step back to observe the two crucified men.

One was still dripping small amounts of semen from his half-erect cock. The other had semen covering his chin, neck and chest, and his cock was slowly becoming erect.

Women from the town were gathered around, along with some men, observing. They began to crowd closer, wanting to see more detail of the two men's suffering, but the soldiers pushed them back. Drusilla, however, obtained a small stool and sat down before the two men and watched. Neither of the men raised their heads to look at her at first, but eventually they did.

What they saw was their former lover, hand inside her toga, caressing her breast and playing with her nipple. The other hand was between her legs, gently rubbing. A glazed, sensual look of contentment was on her face.

When Archillus tried to lift himself to breathe easier, his ankles screamed in such agony he cried out and sank back down. The smile on Drusilla's face grew just slightly at this sign of the men's torture, and she pressed her hand between her legs just a bit harder.

Suddenly, Drusilla stood and walked over to Archillus where he hung, legs slightly spread, cock half-erect. She took hold of his scrotum and squeezed.

The pain she caused wasn't that much more than the body-wide agony Archillus was experiencing. But the added pain seemed to put him over the edge and he began sobbing, crying with tears streaming down his face.

"Oh, my dear. Don't cry," Drusilla said in a kind, caring voice that mocked the tearing pain the victim was experiencing. "Let me help you. Your lover over there got to spew his load, I think you should as well. It will help, don't you think?"

"Oh... god, please... no, Drusilla, please..." moaned the helpless man. Drusilla ignored him and took his cock in her hand and began rubbing it, sliding her hand up and down. The member hardened quickly, in spite of the crucified man's grunts and moans of pain.

Several of the women in the crowd pressed forward to watch the procedure. Others drew back, overwhelmed by the cruelty and pain they were seeing. The men simply stood and watched, shaking their heads. "That's what happens to pervert homosexuals," they said among themselves.

Drusilla kept up stroking the cock. "Remember when you were last inside me, Archillus," she whispered to the agonized man. "Remember the feeling of my ass squeezing on your cock? Just imaging you are there again. Cum for me, baby. Cum in my hand, just like you came inside me before."

And cum he did. After about ten minutes of slow, patient stroking Drusilla was able to make Archillus' body shudder and contract and ejaculate white spunk into her cupped hand. His breathing was hard, a pant, almost a continuous gasping, as he coped with a combination of agonizing pain and sexual pleasure.

Drusilla took her cupped handful of semen and stood up, walking over the two steps to Aurelius and smeared it on his stomach and chest. "Your lover's sperm for you."

Under her hand, Drusilla could feel Aurelius stomach muscles contracting and rippling as the pain of being nailed and hung on display flooded his body in waves, again and again. She held her hand there for just a moment, then stepped away.

It was getting late in the day. The two men had been hanging on their crosses for several hours now. Drusilla turned and walked back to the small palace in town, leaving the men to suffer on display for the night.

Drusilla dined with her husband and relaxed with wine, watching entertainment of dancing girls and a juggler. When the evening was over, she returned to her quarters.

Waiting for her there was a young man, tall, handsome, strong muscular body. She moved to him and slowly slipped her hand under his toga, pushing it aside, reaching her lips up to his. Her right hand went to his chest, her left reached for his growing cock.

This might just be the largest cock I have ever taken inside me, she thought as she tried to wrap her fingers around it, and found they couldn't go all the way. He was long, too. She thought about being impaled by her new lover and led him to the bed.

The bed was next to the window, upstairs looking out over the city. They shed their remaining garments and she lay on her back, lifting her knees and spreading them. The handsome lover leaned in to kiss her, and placed the head of his cock against her wet pussy. He pushed and she threw her head back and gasped.

"Are you all right?" he said. He knew he was large. Some girls had run when they saw him.

"Fuck me. Ram it in!" Drusilla gasped.

He did, shoving the cock in, pushing deep and when he couldn't get all the way in he pulled out part way and shoved deeper. He repeated this process of slowly getting deeper and deeper with each thrust, stretching her until he was able to shove it all the way in to his balls.

Drusilla had been grunting in a very unladylike manner as the huge cock filled her insides.

Suddenly she stopped him. "Wait. Here..."

She pulled back, letting him drop out of her. She turned to  kneel on her hands and knees, facing the window. Her legs straddled wide and exposed her cunt. The young man plunged into her once again, and began thrusting. Her cunt was spread and stretched, relaxed this time, and he made it all the way in.

Drusilla resumed grunting in a very unladylike manner, but raised her head to look out the window.

There in the distance, she could see the execution hill and the clear outlines of two crucified men hanging from their crosses, suffering alone in the flickering torch light.

She smiled happily, and shuddered as the first of many orgasms flooded her body.

Monday, February 19, 2018

Slave Bride Link

Crucifixion story on Slave Bride. Read it here.

Monday, May 8, 2017


The sun was sweltering hot in Barbados. Mira was wearing the standard European outfit, the heavy long dress with petticoats and other impractical layers, and as a result was sweating profusely. She jealously eyed the sparsely clad women that were going about their business in Bridgetown, wishing she could adopt the thinner, lighter clothing style.

But her father insisted that she dress properly. Mira had led a sheltered life in Paris, and that had not changed during their brief stay in the Caribbean. She was 19 years old and had only had one suitor back in Pairs; she was still a virgin and her father was determined to make sure she stayed that way until she married.

They reached the docks and saw their ship. Trunks were being loaded up, including those belonging to Mira and her father. The ship would leave in an hour, and Mira was excited to finally be leaving the raw, unsophisticated atmosphere of the wild Caribbean islands.

Suddenly Mira stopped and stared at a completely unfamiliar sight. A number of women, naked and chained with collars, stood on the dock next to another sailing vessel. The hot sun shown on their naked flesh, the sweat making it slightly shiny.

All the women were young, perhaps Mira's age. They stood with downcast eyes, waiting for something. They were chained together, and were completely naked, something that Mira had never seen before; the only completely nude body she had ever seen was her own.

"Father... father... what... what is that?"

Mira's father looked, and then turned away. "Don't look at it, Mira. Those are slave girls. There is an active slave trade in these islands, and... well, girls like that sometimes appear and are sold in the slave markets."

Mira couldn't help but stare, though. The women looked... strangely sensual, in spite of their circumstances. She couldn't help but be fascinated.

A sailor from the other ship came and dragged one of the slave girls to the side, at the end of the docks. Mira watched as the girl was forced to her knees in front of the sailor, who then dropped his pants. Mira's mouth also dropped, for she had never seen a male member before, and then suddenly, there is was. Standing out, hard and full and straight. She had no idea they were so large... She gasped as the girl took the man's cock into her mouth and began sucking.

Hearing her gasp, Mira's father turned, saw, and rapidly moved Mira away, onto the ship. "You should not be looking at things like that, Mira!"

But Mira could not get the image of the women's nakedness out of her head, or of the way the man shoved his large member into the woman's mouth. She had taken so much of it... down... deeply. Into her throat.

Mira tried it one day on the ship. Remembering what the slave girl had done, she took a sausage and tried sliding it into her throat. She gagged and immediately pulled it out. She couldn't imaging doing that.

Though... she lay in her bunk every night, thinking about it, and touching herself between her legs, in her special place. Only women were given their own cabin on board ship, and Mira made use of the privacy. She thought about the chained girls and what might happen to them; what was being done to them right that moment.

She didn't understand it, but she wanted it. She fantasized about being naked on the dock, chained, then taken aside and used. The embarrassment of her thoughts made her flush, but it also stimulated her imagination even more.

The image of naked women and the thought of men taking them, using them... it filled her mind. She watched the men on board ship as they sailed north. She observed the bulge in their pants, and noticed that sometimes, when the sailors looked at her, their bulge became larger.

She knew now what the bulge was, and what could be done with it. And she wanted it. She fantasized about being taken as she masturbated each night, and then one night... she did it.

It was the second mate, by far the most handsome of the crew. A strapping young man. Quietly, discreetly, Mira seduced the young sailor. It didn't take a lot of effort. She was the only young woman on board, and the second mate was like most sailors-- constantly horny. Mira showed him some cleavage, brushed against him a few times, and finally asked him down to her cabin to look at a broken latch.

She lost her virginity that night, fucking the man in her small cabin. They began by kissing, at first tentatively and then passionately. Once the second mate realized this woman was willing and even eager his hands found their way under her dress, his fingers going to her hardened nipples and eventually to her pussy. When he discovered her wet and her thighs parted, the mate pushed her dress up and his pants down.

At the first contact between his cock and her pussy, she gasped and begged for it.

The first time he entered her they were still mostly clothed. The second time they had managed to get most of their clothing off, and were sweating naked in the heat of the lower cabin as their bodies rubbed against each other.

It was different than she thought, the feeling of having another person pushing up inside of her. But she also had the wonderful, full body, shaking waves of orgasmic pleasure... and then another.

The next day everything changed. Mira had lost her virginity and wanted more. She was already wanting the second mate to slip into her bedroom and between her legs again that night. Alas, it was not to be.

Instead, they were boarded by pirates.

The pirate ship overtook them about noon, and everyone was terrified. Her father sent her below decks, and told her to hide. Mira did as she was told, but was curious... what would happen to her if the pirates knew of her existence? Would she end up on some dock, naked and chained? Used by men how they pleased? It was the stuff of her fantasies, though the reality of it now made her afraid. She did not actually want to be a slave. Taking a young first mate in her bedroom was one thing. Chained and forced to take any man... that was another.

The pirates boarded their ship and rounded up everyone except Mira, who was hiding. They demanded money. What little money they had was turned over. The ship was hauling passengers and had little booty to satisfy the pirates. In anger, they took one of the passengers and threw him overboard, demanding more treasure, more items of value. When nothing came they threw another passenger overboard.

When it came to Mira's father, they demanded more money... and he had none. They dragged him to the railing and he cried out for them to stop. He had treasure... of a kind.

He gave up Mira. Told the pirates where she was hidden. Said they could have her if they let him be. The rough men stormed below, found the cowering girl, and dragged her up to the main deck triumphantly. Mira was truly a catch; a beautiful woman, young, supple, nubile.

Mira was dragged to the pirate's ship, screaming, begging for mercy, ranting against her father, struggling every foot of the way.

Chains were quickly applied to Mira to keep her from charging back across to the other ship.

Mira's fantasy, the one she had masturbated to for the last several nights, had come horribly true.

The first night aboard ship she was given to the pirate captain. His was the right of first use, and he was thrilled to make use of Mira.

He didn't bother stripping her naked. He simply yanked her dress up, tore her top apart, and mounted her in his bed.

Mira lay on the bed, feeling the massive cock enter her, fill her, spread her wide. It felt similar to what she had experienced the night before, but this cock was much bigger and the pirate captain was so much rougher. He hammered into her cunt, jamming himself so deeply she thought he was impaling her.

Even though the rape hurt, it was still close enough to her fantasy that she felt a swelling of pleasure. She moaned, grunted and even hooked her legs up around the captain's hips. Her own hips rocked in rhythm with his thrusts, pushing his cock deeper inside her, rubbing it with her inner flesh.

Mira no longer had to imagine the fantasy of being a sex slave; she was in the pirate captains quarters, legs spread, taking him inside her. She shuddered with increasing pleasure.

But the rape did hurt. Mira's legs were wide apart, and he pushed them wider, stretching muscles that were not that limber. Her cunt was bruised from his hips banging into her. His breath stank, and he insisted on keeping his face close to hers so he could see this young girl's beauty as he banged her.

The next morning she woke in the captain's bed, sore and whimpering. She was bleeding slightly, but at least she was being cared for by the captain, if she was also being used by him. She was the captain's woman, the captain's slave, and it made her feel good to know this.

At noon that day the captain came back into the room where Mira was chained. She waited for him to take her; a mixture of fear and desire swirling inside her.

He ripped the remaining clothes off her, leaving her completely nude. Her clothes were now in shreds, no longer wearable, so he took everything and threw them outside to be used as rags.

He mounted her from behind. Forcing her on all fours on the deck, her ass up in the air, legs spread, he took her from behind.

Mira held her place as best she could, taking the pounding as she had before. It actually felt... good. Not as good as with the second mate, but she was living her fantasy, once again being the captain's whore. The thrusts were so deep, so rough, that Mira felt the air being expelled from her lungs with each thrust. The result was an involuntary grunting noise.

"Uhhg... Ugggh... uuHH... Uhhh... ueehhh.. uihhh..." over and over again the air was pushed from her chest by his cock pounding deep.

As had happened the night before, the captain released a huge load of sperm with a loud grunting.

He left her naked on the floor, pulled up his pants and returned to his ship's duties.

Mira lay on the floor, confused, hurt, bruised, bleeding. This was her fantasy, and she was enjoying it in some ways, but it was rougher and more painful than she had imagined. She also worried about whether the captain would keep her. She had to satisfy him, make him want to come back. She plotted how she would make herself seem sexier, more alluring, and give him greater pleasure. To survive.

It didn't work. It just wasn't enough.

Oh, Mira was ready to seduce and pleasure the captain that evening, but instead she was given to the first and second mates to use as they pleased.

And so she was introduced to the art of the threesome. Taking a cock in her mouth as she had seen the slave do, and spreading her legs to allow the first mate to drive inside her cunt, she did her best. She was a beginner; it was only two days after losing her virginity, but the desire to survive and live is a powerful motivator.

When the two men had finished with her she lay bruised, shaking, bleeding. She had done her duty, but whatever pleasure she had experienced with the captain had fled. She just hurt now, hoping it had been enough to keep her alive.

She was naked and in chains, just as the slave girl's she had seen on the dock. She was servicing men as their pleasure, just like the slave girls on the dock.

She awoke the next day to the pirate ship's first mate shaking her and dragging her nude body out of the cabin and onto the main deck. The pirate ship had entered a small cove on an island and was anchored in relatively peaceful waters.

"Ah, whore... time to let the men have their turn. It's been weeks for some of them."

The crew had some free time and it was their turn to take Mira. All twenty five of them. They weren't nearly as gentle as the captain or his mates.

A dozen men surrounded Mira, grabbing her body and pulling her arms and legs apart. She struggled, straining against the force of these men taking her but it was useless. Rough hands felt her body, sliding across every surface of her flesh, probing every hole. Suddenly a cock was inside her cunt, and someone was thrusting; she couldn't see who.

Mira cried out, begging for mercy. There was none. When one man was finished another took his place, pushing into her cunt.

At least after the first two men her insides were so full of men's body fluid that she was slippery; cocks slid inside her without resistance.

The pirate sailors threw Mira around as a plaything, forcing themselves into her cunt, into her ass, and into her mouth. Some of them put their cocks into her hands, demanding that she stroke. She did her best, but it was overwhelming. She couldn't stroke with both hands while taking a cock into her ass, into her cunt, into her mouth.

Some of the sailors tired of her, but there was a never ending supply of new sailors, and the longer it went the rougher they became. The ones that were last were the least senior of the sailors, the ones others had pushed aside. These junior sailors were the dregs, the dirtiest, foulest of the lot.

Mira had no idea how long this lasted; it seemed to go on forever. It got dark, the evening descending, and it was still going on. At one point Mira recognized that the man with his cock in her mouth had been in her cunt some time before... he had come back for seconds.

In despair, Mira screamed out, begging once again for mercy from the continuous, hour's long rape. As another cock slid into her mouth she screamed, and bit down.

The sailor screamed and struck her across the face. Her head was ringing the world spinning. Another cock entered her mouth. She no longer had control and her jaw was loose. The banging of cocks in her ass and cunt meant her jaw flopped around... and she bit the man's cock again.

"She's biting cocks!" Shouted one of the pirates in anger. "I'll teach her to fight back!"

With amazing speed, one of the sailors tied her wrists together and hoisted her up so she was dangling from a rope pulling her arms over her head. The rape had stopped, though one of the men had his fist up inside her pussy. It ached horribly. Her body was slick with sperm and blood.

Mira hung by her wrists, the pain in her shoulders nothing; her entire body hurt, especially her jaw, stomach, cunt and ass. She knew her flesh had been torn, split by the constant penetration. But for now, she was simply grateful to be hanging unmolested.

The pirates backed away and the second mate whipped her.

Mira had never felt such pain in her life. The whip was ten feet long, a supple braided leather that wrapped around her body and stripped flesh like a knife. She screamed, jerked and writhed, but there was nowhere to go. No way to protect herself. The last struck her white flesh again and again, leaving red long, deep red stripes where it kissed her skin.

Blood streamed down her flesh from these new wounds, mixing with the semen, saliva and blood from earlier wounds. Her flesh was shiny, as if she had been doused with water. Each stroke of the whip sent splatters of fluid flying.

After a while she fainted.

When she woke she was still hanging from her wrists. She could no longer feel her hands; they were completely numb. She could not move her fingers. The captain was staring at her.

"Too bad they handled you so rough. You might have brought a pretty penny in Port-au-Prince. Aecchh... they deserved it. It's been long since they've had a woman."

He turned his back on her and walked away.

"What shall we do with her boys? She's used up!" cried the first mate.

Several men shouted, "Overboard!" "Fish food!" "Leave her hanging there!"

The second mate cried out, "Nail her to the bow! She'll be our figurehead!"

"Aye! Aye! Make her our figurehead!" Shouted the crew.

Mira was only half aware of what was happening, but she knew it wasn't good. She tried to beg for mercy, a croaking plea escaping her split and bloody lips. It had no effect.

She was brought down and laid on the deck. A board was obtained from below and put beneath her head. Strong arms grabbed her arms and stretched them out, tying her wrists to the wooden beam.

She tried to struggle but it was completely useless. Weakness from the day's abuse had taken her.

"Nail her, else she come loose!" Shouted someone.

Horrified, Mira watched as two long spikes were brought to her and placed next to her wrists. "Aye, that's it!" shouted the navigator. "Secure her fast!"

A spike was placed against her left wrist. Tears were streaming down her face as she watched a sailor raise a mallet and then strike the spike a sure blow.

The pain was worse than anything she had experienced. Her entire arm seemed to explode in searing agony and she screamed, loud and long. Staring at the blue sky and clouds above her, she kept screaming until blows had secured her left wrist to the board.

The process was repeated on her right wrist and her screamed continued until she lost the strength to scream.

They hauled her up then, brought her to a standing position, though several hands had to hold her there. She was unable to stand on her own. She was dragged, feet sliding limply over the deck. The weight of her body pulled on the nails, creating new waves of pain that made her cry and scream and sob. She no longer talked, she no longer had the ability to talk. The rapes, the abuse... it was all behind her now. All she could think of was the horrible throbbing her her arms and shoulders.

Ropes were tied to her ankles and she discovered she was being lowered over the bow of the boat, past the bowsprit, hanging down over the water. The sound of nails being hammered... the board was being fixed to the wooden hull, facing forward.

Mira hung there, looking forward to sea, away from the boat, in agony.

When the beam was secured the ropes on her ankles were pulled back and up, causing her body to be pulled back against the slope of the ship's prow. Her legs spread, one on each side of the ship. They pulled hard, pushing her ass up against the point of the bow, her spine pressing against the ridge as well.

Then she was alone.

The pain was actually slowly spreading, but was not as intense. Her wrists and hands were reduced to a dull throbbing pain, but the pain now spread through her arms into her back and down to her hips. Mira tentatively tried to move, and screamed from the sudden onslaught of agony. Any movement was hell.

So she hung here.

Behind her she could hear the men going about their business; the ship was getting ready to make way.

Below her she saw an occasional drip... drip...  It came from her. It was blood mixed with semen. The liquid remains of a full day of being raped. She hung her head, unable to keep it up any more.

She remained there during the night, hanging in place, listening to the men get drunk on rum, and then finally silence as they all passed out.

She passed out as well, unable to stay conscious. It wasn't really sleep, as the pain was too great to allow her to sleep. The aching cramps had extended all the way down to her thighs now. No, she simply slipped out of consciousness.

She was awakened by sharp pains in her wrists and arms, and in her back. Opening her eyes and squinting in the morning glare, she realize the pain was coming because the ship was moving. They were out of the bay and moving into the open ocean. Waves came rolling toward her and the bow of the ship would descend into the gully between the waves and then hit the next wave with a shuddering splash. This jerked Mira against her nails, causing massive waves of pain as they road the wave up.

The ship would crest, then sink into the next gully, only to strike the next wave, repeating the agony.

She was being jerked violently, the nails actually smashing and eating their way through her muscles and tendons.

Mira was also soaked. Every wave brought spray that covered her, filled her mouth and nose. She couldn't breathe. She struggled to get the salt water out of her head and just as she succeeded the next wave would shoot up compressed water, splashing with force directly up into her nose.

Breathing became a constant ritual of timing, watching the waves, trying to make sure she was ready for the next blast of water.

Screaming from pain was not an option; it just filled her mouth with water and would kill her.

Why was she trying? Mira thought. I am going to die here... but she had to try. Her body would not let her simply give up.

And so she rode the front of the ship, gasping for air, shuddering from cold water mixed with scalding hot sun. Pain from being suspended from nails, pulled back against the hull.

Mira's breasts pointed forward at all times. They guided the ship as it moved across the ocean.

She survived two, three days and nights. The first day she defecated and urinated, the ocean spray immediately cleaning her off.

Halfway through the first day someone lowered a bottle of water on a rope for her. She drank desperately, getting the bottle between her teeth and holding it until she drained it. Apparently they didn't want her to die, at least not yet.

Mira wanted to die, though. Her body had become one large bundle of agony, never ceasing. The constant motion of the ship, jerking and thrashing her about, tore into her body. The nails had destroyed all the soft tissue in her wrists and were now grinding against the bone of her ulna and radius. Eventually the nails would tear holes in her wrists large enough they would no longer hold her and she would slip out... except she was still tied to the board.

The combination of nails and rope made her situation permanent. There was no way she would ever come loose.

On the third day they came into port. Mira's body still hung from the ship's bow. Port-au-Prince was friendly to pirates and the slave trade, so the ship's crew saw no reason to take Mira's body down.

On the dock stood a man. Mira's father. He recognized the pirate ship, and looked at the poor, sunburned and dehydrated rag of a girl's naked body tied to the prow. She appeared dead, hanging there as a sign, a warning to others.

He thought for a moment that it might be his Mira; but quickly dismissed that thought. It couldn't be.

Could it?

Mira was not dead yet. She looked up, saw her father. She had no water left in her body for tears. She croaked something indiscernible.

Her father cautiously approached.

She croaked again. "Please.... kill.... me...."