The Broker sat behind his desk and stared at the young brunette woman sitting across from him. Had he really heard her correctly? She wanted to be crucified?
"Um... Miss... Hayes. Am I to understand you actually want a full Roman crucifixion, nails, torture, agony, and all? I mean, usually people come to me wanting extreme body modifications or in rare cases, help with a safe and effective means of self termination. But..."
"Call me Julie. Yes, you understand me correctly. And if you look at me, question me, you will see I am perfectly sane, and that my mind is made up." The girl stated with confidence, looking at the older man steadily. "Here is information concerning a debilitating and eventually terminal illness I have." Julie stood up and handed over a large folder packed with printouts, diagnostics, doctor notations and the like. "I have no wish to live in this way. There is little I can look forward to in life."
"But crucifixion..." The Broker considered the idea with fascination growing in his mind. "You do know this is an incredibly painful way to die, and slowly too?"
Nodding her head, the girl responded, "I am more aware than you. It is something I have studied for several years, and been fascinated with. I am something of a masochist, you see. This would not be my first foray into very painful situations. I have actually had a dream, a fantasy if you will, to experience crucifixion first hand. All aspects of it. The humiliation, the muscle pain, dehydration, loss of body control, blood loss, direct nerve agony from the nails, respiration problems, shock, sepsis and potentially broken bones. Shall I go on?"
"No, no... that about covers it." The Broker sat back in his chair and surveyed the bright, beautiful woman that sat before him asking to be tortured to death.
"No, actually, there is quite a bit more, but there is no reason to belabor it. The point is I know what I am talking about. I want to die. I need to die soon before I begin to become dependent on others and can no longer make the choices myself. I have always dreamed of this, and while I won't enjoy it," here the girl smiled wryly, "I think it would be an ideal way for me to go. Not a pitiful shell with a bullet in her brain or quietly going to sleep to never wake, but going out doing something really, profoundly different and meaningful."
"Julie. I am not sure what would be meaningful about this..." The Broker shook his head.
"Besides being meaningful to me personally, I think it would be meaningful to scientific research. There has been debate over the process of crucifixion but you can't really crucify anyone to see what happens. I propose that my death be recorded and monitored for study by science."
And so it was done. A contract was signed, the date identified, the terms and conditions defined, the experience outlined, and money changed hands.
The day before her self-execution Julie went down to the main boulevard where prostitutes were known to hang out. She had been going through a bucket list of things to do before she died, some of them rather strange. The last item was chosen to help prepare herself for her upcoming degradation. She was wearing a short skit showing her strong thin thighs, a tight top that gave a little hint of bare midriff, and shoes with a six inch heel. She walked into one of those bars that was cinder block painted black with a neon sign above it that announced "Girls!". Every man in the bar noticed her as she ordered a beer and it wasn't difficult to pick up one of them. He was about 25 years older than she, overweight, not particularly good looking and offered to pay her a substantial sum to head back to his place. She took it though she didn't need the money. She just wanted to fuck an ugly, slimy old man for money, to sell herself for a little cash.
The man knew just how lucky he was. Julie was no ordinary whore. 5'9" tall, slender, with a tight ass and perfect breasts, the long haired brunette could have been a model. She had an incredible cute girl next door thing going on and presented an air of casual class.
The man sweated and grunted on top of her for 15 minutes, pushing and shoving his cock inside. She wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly, feeling his heaving mass pressing down on her and getting off on feeling completely wanton and cheap. She wished he would hit her, but letting his disgusting flesh slide on her own pale bare skin and enter her holes was enough. She came three times, loudly, before he finally pumped his semen inside her.
The man had been very suspicious when she said she wanted to do it without a condom. Her naked body had finally convinced him. His diseases didn't matter to her. She would be dead in a few days. Now, laying on her back she felt his cum seep out of her and she felt as dirty as she had ever felt; it made her almost wish she could go on picking up random men and selling herself cheaply for the thrill. But she knew that could never last and she had something better to look forward to tomorrow.
Idly stroking him, she got him hard again and slipped down to take him in her mouth. He had a strange taste, and that was fine. She hoped he would force her to take another load down her throat.
The next day Julie got up as normal, showered and shampooed her long hair, and dressed casually but nicely. She put on no makeup (she didn't really need any). Catching a bus to the design company where she worked she turned in her resignation effective immediately. Leaving the boss with his mouth open in surprise she left the building and took the bus to the site where it had been agreed she would be picked up. She didn't know where the crucifixion would actually take place, or even exactly when. She simply knew that she was to turn herself over to The Broker and whomever he had helping him, after which her life and death would be in his hands.
Standing in the empty parking lot of an abandoned K-Mart on the edge of town, Julie saw a plain white van roll up to her. 12 noon, right on time. Two men got out. One was The Broker, the other a large muscular man with a mean face.
"Are you ready?" asked The Broker.
"No one is ever ready for death, but I am probably more ready than most," Julie replied.
Van doors slammed shut and they drove off. Julie rolled over onto her side and waited during the hour long drive. The ropes hurt, and the position was increasingly uncomfortable. Her ordeal had already begun.
They took her to a farm located far into the countryside where no one would find or interrupt them. When the van jolted to a stop in front of a large unpainted wood barn, they were met by two other men in work clothes that stepped around to the back of the van eagerly. They opened the doors and took a look at the young woman, bound and waiting on the floor.
The Broker climbed into the back of the van next to the bound woman and said, "Julie, this is your last chance. One of the basic principles of this experience is that you will no longer have any choice in the matter once we truly begin. You will be abused, hurt, tortured, and eventually die, with no recourse. Your screams will not be answered, your pleas will not be heard. That's the deal you made, and that's what will happen. Decide now. Do you wish to continue?"
Julie stared into The Broker's eyes and after a moment said quietly, "I understand. I am ready. Let's do it."
The Broker licked his lips, stared into her dark eyes for a moment, and then motioned to the men. The three of them dragged the woman out of the van. She landed with a hard thump on the ground. The wind was knocked out of her with a whoosh and a gasp. They dragged her into the barn where the mean man took a huge knife and cut Julie's clothes away. Each ragged piece was tossed into a corner to later be burned. They wouldn't be needed any more.
When all her clothes had been removed and she lay naked on the dirt floor of the barn, the men cut the ropes that held her. Rough hands grabbed her arms, lifted her into a standing position and forced her hands in front of her. Heavy metal shackles were placed on her wrists. They were tight, too tight, and they hurt a lot. Julie cried out in pain as the shackles pinched and pressed her wrists bones cruelly. The mean man laughed when he heard her complaint.
"That's just the beginning, sweetheart," he growled.
Another of the men stood behind her and kicked the inside of her left shin, knocking her leg out from under her. Her weight came down on the rail again and then the other leg was kicked out. Several more kicks and Julie got the idea. Her legs were to be spread apart. The insides of her shins were hurting bad, so she complied.
A rough voice behind her commented "she sure has a nice tight ass, doesn't she?"
Rough hands grabbed both ass cheeks and spread them wide. A finger was inserted into her anus, removed, and followed by a larger fleshy probe. Without lube, the man's penis wouldn't enter easily, but he was rock hard and pushed and prodded until he gained entry. July was crying from the pain and humiliation. She hadn't expected this, and it was dawning on her that turning herself over for execution meant that these men could do anything to her they wished. And they were.
Julie cringed, crying out in protest as she felt the cock withdraw and then enter her vagina. Didn't this bastard know not to put a cock that had been inserted into her anus into her vagina? Infections could result! And then Julie realized, an infection wasn't going to be possible, because she would be dead by the time it took hold. The man pounded away and with a loud grunt ejaculated into her vagina. Pregnancy wasn't going to be an issue either, she realized, hanging her head.
When the first man was done, a second took his place and used Julie in the same manner. Bent over the rail as she was, her body looked inviting, enticing, shapely, sensual. It didn't take long for the second rape to end with a load of cum inside of her.
The third man requested that she be re-positioned over the rail on her back, pulled backward so that her hips were forced outward and her pubic mound was pushed up. This was done, creating a most sensual and inviting sight for Julie's tormentors, and creating a new and interesting form of pain as the rail dug into the small of her back. The man entered her easily as the semen from the previous two lubricated her liberally. He grabbed and squeezed Julie's breasts and grunted until he came inside of her. When he withdrew, semen escaped and dribbled down the inside of one thigh.
The Broker took her last, and enjoyed the time inside of his victim. Julie experienced new pain and began to struggle in a panicked manner, her arms straining to get free from the men that held her; The Broker's cock was much larger than the others. True to the promise, her struggles and cries were ignored. His jarring penetrations strained and hurt her back, making her think she might break it at any moment. The lips of her pussy surrounded and clung to The Broker's cock as he slid in and out. When he came, The Broker let out a gasp and squeezed her breasts hard, making her whimper, his hips compulsively pushing as deep inside her as he could go.
When they had finished using her, they dragged her away. Half walking, half dragged to the other side of the barn, Julie found herself lifted up with her arms above her head. The short chain that connected the wrist shackles was placed into a hook in a post and when the men let go of her she dropped about a foot and jerked to a stop before her feet touched the ground. Once again, she cried out as her shoulders and wrists took the brunt of her weight, and she dangled in place.
Julie felt her body stretch as she hung in place. Her wrists hurt the most, at first, as the iron wrist bands dug into her flesh. Her shoulders hurt soon after, taking a good bit of the weight of the rest of her body. She thought of hanging from the cross, and wondered if this was what it might feel like. She waited there, hanging, wondering what would happen next. As she hung there, she thought about what had happened so far, the trip in the van, tied up; the stripping off of her clothes; being raped by four men, and now hanging alone in the barn.
The four men observed the elongated, naked body hanging from the hook in the barn and admired it. It seemed a waste for such a beauty to be given up to the cross. Now that she was naked and displayed before him The Broker had a full appreciation for just how beautiful Julie was. He considered her for a while, and consoled himself with the knowledge that her suffering would be just as spectacular as violating her had been.
After resting for a while, the men returned and found Julie exactly where they had left her, though her breathing was a bit faster and more labored. She had begun to suffer from hanging on from the post. That was OK, she was supposed to suffer, and in fact they were about to increase her suffering. The tallest and meanest of the men stepped to a wall of the barn and took down a bullwhip from a peg. The other men stood back and watched as he approached, flexing and cracking the whip to limber the woven leather. At the sound of the crack, the girl shuddered as if anticipating the pain that was to come.
The only warning of the coming whip was a slight whistling as it split the air. It slapped against the smooth flesh of the girl with a wet crack. A split second later she tensed every muscle in her body and let out a loud scream which slowly wound down to a sob. The whip sliced through the air again, wrapping around the girl's waist; the end of the whip circled the post in front of her and snapped against the small of her back, cutting the flesh and evoking another scream.
Each strike with the whip marked another place of her body, moving across her back, shoulders, buttocks and thighs. Blood began to flow and her body shook, muscles twitching and convulsing from the pain. Julie screamed again and again as the whip cut her flesh. The man wielding the whip tried to get the tip to snap between her legs, to the side of one breast, and other sensitive parts, playing with the procedure with each stroke.
The stoke count was precise: 39. This was the prescribed number of lashes during Roman times. More than 40 was considered an execution sentence in itself, so in order to make sure they did not miscount and could not be accused of executing a prisoner merely sentenced to a lashing, 39 was the target number. It was enough. Blood streamed from the soft white flesh of the sobbing girl. Even the act of crying was painful now, for it expanded and moved the ragged torn skin of her back.
Julie hung from the post, her entire body in screaming pain from the lashing. She knew this was part of the ritual to which she had agreed but it was so much worse than anything she had imagined. She wasn't even nailed to the cross and she was losing her nerve. Her sobs had words mixed with them, begging, pleading for mercy. She knew there would be no response but the words came anyway. "Please... please stop... Please, I don't want this... forgive me, please no more..."
She was removed from the hook and collapsed on the floor. They removed the shackles that joined her wrists together. No other restraint was needed at this point, she was still weak and recovering from the whipping. Her muscles and joints seemed to slowly move back into place as well, after being stretched in from the suspension. The blood seeped mainly from her back and was slowly stopping. Her front was largely untouched thanks to the post from which she had been hanging.
Laying on the floor of the barn she was unaware of what was happening around her. The men were preparing for the actual crucifixion, though most was already ready. What brought her back to awareness was a sudden loud crash right next to her. A heavy beam had been dropped next to her head. Hands of two of the men grabbed her arms and rolled her over, spreading her arms out against the beam beneath her. Her mind went crazy. Was this the moment? Were they about to drive nails into her? She burst into tears and panicked, screaming, begging, "No, No, Please don't do this, please help me!"
Instead of nails, rope was twisted around her arms, securing them to the beam. When she was tied, the two men lifted the beam up, dragging Julie to a standing position with it. When she was standing in place with the beam across her shoulders, the two men let go. The beam was heavy and Julie was weak; she immediately slipped sideways, fell to her knees and let one end of the beam rest on the floor.
The consequence of falling was a lash from the whip across her neck and breasts. Julie cried out again and was answered by one of the men, "Get up. Carry the cross."
With some help, Julie struggled to her feet, lifting the heavy cross beam, getting it balanced, and standing with it. "Move. Follow The Broker." A hoarse command ordered her to begin walking.
Slowly she moved, keeping the beam balanced and up. When it slipped and she went down again, she was lashed with the whip. Julie no longer thought about why she was there or what was happening, she simply tried to keep the beam up and keep walking to avoid more lashes. She followed the men outside, into a hot sun. Her feet hurt from the hot dirt and rocks, but she had no choice. She kept going, sweat suddenly covering her body and making the beam slippery behind her.
The walked slowly across the yard and then up a small hill to the side of the farm. Julie fell and was whipped several times while climbing the relatively shallow slope. She was fit, but after the rape, the whipping, and with the heavy beam on her shoulders, she found it impossible to keep her footing. When they finally reached the top she collapsed on the ground once again, grateful that she could put the burden down.
"I think we should keep her alive for a while," said one of the men. "She is cute. I mean, look at that body. How often you get a chance to have your very own sex slave for a while, yanno?"
It was a tempting suggestion. Julie was the kind of sensual young woman that any man would be grateful to get inside of, and the idea of having her around for a while was natural. All the men stood looking at the girl laying on the ground trying to catch her breath.
"No, that wasn't the deal," The Broker said firmly. "She is now a convicted and sentenced criminal, and we are duty bound to execute her in a timely manner."
After a moment's silence, The Broker spoke again. "Though I think we could try something a little different and still be within the boundaries of our agreement. Let's hang her upside down for a while."
The mean man laughed out loud, "Inverted crucifixion, of course. Lovely idea. We aren't set up for that, but we can make do."
Julie lay on the ground only half aware of what was being said. She expected nails to be driven into her wrists at any moment and was savoring the rest, laying on the ground. So, when the men started wrapping rope around her body, tying knots and pinioning her legs together, it was a surprise. She raised her head, and found she was able to speak clearly. Her strength was returning.
"Hey. What are you doing? No more, please, let's stop this, somehow."
The men ignored her as they finished tying her body and then threw the remaining rope over the limb of a tree. Julie felt her legs slowly being pulled up, higher and higher until her ass lifted off the ground. She began screaming, "No! NO! What are you doing, I never agreed to this, please, I don't want to continue, have mercy, please..."
Her shoulders dragged on the ground and then with a few final heaves the men pulled her completely up. Julie was hanging on display, upside down, with her arms stretched out on either side of her, still tied to the beam. The beam was heavy and made the whole inverted suspension more painful; the rope dug into her legs and ankles and her shoulders and back hurt.
The men watched the beautiful woman swing back and forth slowly, sweat trickling down her body, over her breasts and sliding onto her neck. Her breasts hung down, facing the ground, making them look a little odd. Her hips stood out sharply as all her internal organs slid away from them and pressed against her diaphragm.
"I'd fuck her face but I wouldn't trust the bitch not to bite me," said one of the men.
"Yeah. But I feel like cumming anyway," said another, unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock. He rubbed it against her face and breasts, getting it hard, and the stroked himself in front of her face until he ejaculated, aiming for her mouth and nose. His semen covered her lips and slowly edged downward into her nostrils, causing the girl to suddenly gasp, choke for air and then blow her nose out trying to expel the slimy fluid.
Julie was not entirely sure what was happening to her. Her body was in pain, though the agony of the whipping was fading. She hung upside down, feeling the unnatural sensation of her organs and breasts pressing toward her head. The beam weighed heavily on her back and shoulders, causing some pain but no agony. She became very aware of where she was and what was happening, and as a result began to feel the humiliation and horror of her situation.
She was helpless. Absolutely helpless, hanging in mid air, being observed by the four men. One of the men had shoved his cock into her face and rubbed it until he spurted cum into her nose. The cum was still inside her sinuses, making it difficult to breath through her nose and tasted terrible. She felt like a piece of meat hanging on a hook, waiting for carving up. This wasn't at all what she had expected.
Even though she was upside down, Julie could still see around the small clearing. Off to the side was a second long beam. This would form the other part of her cross, and brought home the reality of what was happening to her. Her mind raced, knowing she had asked for this and now desperate to find a way out. The progressive disease that would take years to slowly kill her no longer seemed so awful; the immediate, impending doom of crucifixion terrified her.
"Um. Please. I know what I agreed to, but I no longer wish to be crucified. Listen to me. I am rational, I know what I am saying, and I am begging you to hear me. I know I told you to ignore my pleas, but things have changed. Don't..." Julie broke off her attempt to reason with the men when she realized they were paying no attention to her. Two of them were digging a hole near the second beam, The Broker was supervising, and the remaining man was looking at her naked body and playing with his exposed cock.
The men had a picnic after the hole had been finished. It was a fine day, if a little warm, and they ate sandwiches and drank beer a few yards away from where Julie swung back and forth, suspended upside down, awaiting final processing. She remained lovely even in the inverted position, a delightful young woman. She alternated between begging for the men to release her and crying.
Finally, it was time. The men stood and brushed off their clothes and hands and then returned to where Julie hung. The Broker released the rope and brought the girl down to the ground where she began rolling around, attempting to get up. The wide beam made it virtually impossible, but was fun to watch for a while.
"Well, we had better get to it," the mean looking man said, and went to get the large mallet and spikes that would be used to nail the girl to the cross. When he returned, two of the other men positioned themselves over the girl's left arm, holding it tight so the nail would go in clean.
Julie knew that the time had arrived. She was about to be nailed. The ultimate experience of her life was reaching its climax, and pain greater than she had ever known would soon be hers. She was a masochist, but this scared her. She began crying, sobbing, begging once again, as they held her arm tightly. She felt the sharp point of the steel spike as it was pressed against the heel of her palm. She screamed in fear before the hammer came down, her fingers clenching and unclenching.
With a squishy thunk the mallet hit the spike and penetrated deep into her flesh. It took a moment before the pain hit, as if her body couldn't believe it had been violated in this way. Finally, the sensation of her wrist bones separating into pieces to allow the spike passage exploded in agony and she screamed again, rolling her head to the side. "AAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAA!!!"
She didn't hear the second or third mallet strikes but did feel them; the bones in her wrist were shattering and then being pushed apart as the spike exited her flesh on the other side.
The mallet struck again and again, driving the spike through into the wood below her wrist. The spike had entered the heel of her hand, but had exited from the arm slightly above the wrist. The angle was planned to prevent her from coming loose from the spike. It also did quite a bit of damage, shattering bones in her hand and wrist, embedding the nail in enough heavy bone material that she would not come loose by shredding and tearing free.
Once the spike was firmly embedded in the wood below, the two men holding her wrist released it and stepped back. Julie's hand was firmly nailed in place. There was almost no blood, and just about an inch of nail exposed, sticking out from the flesh. The girl's hand didn't move; it had taken on the look of a claw, fingers curled and stuck in position.
The men moved to where Julie's right arm was still tied to the beam. Julie was aware of them standing over her, holding her wrist, and knew what to expect this time. She gasped when she felt the point of the spike positioned against her flesh and then held her breath, turning her head away.
Thunk, the mallet hit the spike and pain exploded in Julie's right hand. She let out the breath she had been holding in a long scream, which wasn't even finished when the mallet hit the spike again, cracking bones and pressing on raw nerves. Over and over again the mallet came down until the second spike was deep inside the wood.
The men stepped back and viewed the agonized girl. She no longer struggled. Simply laying on the ground with her arms stretched out and nailed to the beam, she looked sensual, sexy, enticing. She writhed from the waist down from the pain, but where the bean ran under her shoulders and pressed her body up she looked obscenely like a stripper exposing her breasts for an audience.
"Let's get the two cross pieces attached," said The Broker. Two of the men grabbed the beam below Julie's arms and dragged it over to the other beam nearby. Julie was dragged along with it, sobbing all the way. Positioning the cross beam with Julie's arms just at the end of the other beam, the men inserted the two together with a notch that had been prepared before. Once in place, several more spikes secured the two beams together. The cross was complete, but Julie was only nailed to the top part.
"This is hard work. Let's take a break," complained one of the men.
"No. Let's get this over with then rest," replied another.
"Yeah. We need to do her feet and then get her up. Let's do it," said The Broker.
Taking Julie's left leg they forced her knee into a bent position and flattened her foot against the upright beam. The Broker took another spike and positioned it at the top of the foot near the ankle. Carefully aiming the mallet and angling the nail, he slammed the nail through the soft flesh. The girl's body shuddered and she cried out as the nail was pounded though her foot, breaking and separating bones along the way. Because her foot was thicker than her hands, the nail was driven all the way until the head was almost even with her flesh. This was to make sure it was embedded securely in the beam below.
The process was repeated with her other foot. She offered little resistance, and in little time, the girl was nailed to the cross in the proper position. Arms outstretched, legs bent at the knee and straight down against the wood beam. Julie could not move away from this basic position, though her hips and chest were capable of some limited movement.
Now that she was secured with nails, The Broker removed the ropes that bound her arms to the cross. She lay there, naked and in the open, as if nothing held her in place unless you looked closely and saw the ends of the spikes protruding from her white flesh. Then men stepped back and rested for a moment. It wasn't terribly hot but the mid-afternoon sun had made them sweat as they performed the crucifixion. They each grabbed a beer.
Julie was laying in position on the ground, her hands and feet balls of pain that were now throbbing horribly. The initial pain of the nailing had subsided and been replaced by a deep ache. Any movement created a sudden shock of nerve pain as the spikes would rub against tendons and nerves, especially in her wrists. Her body was now screaming at her, telling her that something was horribly wrong, that she needed to run and get away, but she couldn't. She was locked down in place, nailed down, and it felt as wrong as anything she had felt in her life.
Above Julie were the branches of a tree. A bird was singing there, above her. The green branches waved slowly in a light breeze with the deep blue sky above her. How could she have ever thought she could do this? The bird pooped and it landed on her face, staying there. Unable to wipe the bird shit from her face, the despair of the situation, the horrible torment she had embarked upon, struck her and she sobbed once again.
The men returned and stared down at her. She didn't beg any more. Once the nails had gone in, there was no hope. Her hands and feet were shattered and there was no way they would ever let her go. The process of her death had begun. She was already dying.
"I wanna fuck her one more time," grunted one of the men.
"Sure if you can squeeze in there," said The Broker.
Julie watched has the man dropped his pants, his hard erection popping up, ready to go. He knelt across the cross, just below her knees, and then pushed them apart. This caused her feet to twist and press against the nails that were embedded inside them. A shock of pain rippled up from her feet to her shins and Julie cried out in agony, "AAAaaaahhhgggggrrrgggggg...."
She was still wet and slippery from the cum remaining in her vagina and the man slipped in easily. Each push jostled her feet and made her grunt in pain. The man leaned far over her, looking in her eyes, watching the pain in her face as he fucked her. It didn't take long for him to climax and spurt more semen inside of her. He withdrew, pulled his pants up, and said, "That babe is mighty fine. I can tell she has no hope left. Quite an experience. Let's get her up."
The men dragged the cross into position. Julie wasn't crying out any more, just breathing heavily. They got the cross in place with the end close to the hole they had dug.
"This is gonna be hard," said one of the men.
"That's what she said," said The Broker, nodding toward Julie. All the men laughed. "No, there is a plan to this. Go get those ropes over there. We tie them to the top and use them to help us lift the cross up into place."
They tied the ropes to the cross piece; then two of the men pulled on the cross using the ropes while two of the men lifted the heavy wood beams directly. The bottom slid into the hole and they slowly raised the cross to the upright position. When the cross was at about 45 degrees, Julie's body began to slide down and the rough wood dug splinters into her already wounded and bleeding back. She cried out once again, "aAAGEEGGGGghgggg! Aaaag! AAAA! AAH!"
The cross slid further down into the hole the higher the cross rose. When it hit the vertical position, it sunk deep with a Thunk. The cross went down about a foot and jerked to a stop. Julie's body was jerked violently down and stopped by the nails in her wrists. She twisted in agony, her hips moving to the side and then back again, crying out as the nails in her wrists pressed and dug against broken bone and ragged nerves. The twisting motion of her hips forced the cross forward slightly, for the hole was a little too wide for the beam and she hung forward by her wrists and ankles, dangling and gurgling in torment.
"Whoa! Whoa! Don't let it tip over!" The men grabbed the cross and pushed it back up. One of them began filling in the extra space of the hole with dirt. "Get some of those wedges and drive them in to get a nice tight support at the bottom." The foot long wedges were brought over and pounded into place with the mallet. Before long, the cross was sturdily in place, and Julie was hanging upright from her wrists, staring wide eyed at the world about her but seeing little as the pain in her body throbbed and spread.
It was so much worse than anything she had ever imagined. The pain from the spikes in her wrists was just the beginning. Once she was hanging, the spiked pressed on the broken bones, causing more agony. Those bones were sharp and in turn dug into exposed nerves, causing more pain, and so on. She was a slim girl but all her weight was now suspended from her shoulders at an odd angle and cramping was setting in across her arms and shoulders. This spread rapidly across her chest as she hung, gasping for air.
The sun was most of the way down. The whole process had taken about four hours. She wondered how long before she would lose consciousness for the last time and leave the pain behind. It would be a while, she knew. She tried moving her body to relieve some of the pressure causing her agony in her wrists. It simply caused the agony to increase as the spikes shifted and pushed inside her hands and wrists. She screamed briefly and then went back into the position she was in before. That hurt even worse; no matter what she did the pain seemed to follow her and find new and diabolical ways to torment her.
The cramping spread across the entire upper half of her body. She suddenly remembered what she knew about crucifixion; victims often pushed themselves up to relieve the cramping and stress from the nailed arms. She took a deep breath and tried this, pushing down against her nailed feet.
The agony suddenly shifted from her upper body to her feet and legs as the spikes pressed upward. She almost instantly gave up and sank back down. This renewed the pressure on her wrists and back and she moaned again.
Julie's entire body was covered with a shiny wet sheen. In some places, the sweat gathered and trickled down. The sensation of trickling tickled her, but she could do nothing. She endured the itching and tickling. Flies came, attracted by the drying blood and sweat. She felt them crawling around, at the corners of her eyes and mouth, across her breasts. She wanted to swat them away, to scratch, but couldn't. She was nailed in place. She couldn't move. Instead, she shook her head, driving them away for a moment.
The men sat back and watched Julie as she hung. It was amazing how much she moved, though it was all in small, jerky movements. Twisting her body, pressing her hips sensually out and then back, trying to lift herself, shaking her head until the hair shook forward and stuck to her sweaty face and neck. The Broker watched and mused at just how gorgeous this woman was. Much more alluring, much more sensual than the pristine bitch that had paid him and signed the contract just a few days before. Was it her nakedness? Or her torment, knowing the pain she was in? Maybe the way she moved?
It was all of these things. The men watched as Julie gave up and simply hung in place, too tired to try anything any more. Her stomach moved in and out as she breathed, and her breasts wobbled slightly, otherwise she was motionless.
Then it began again-- the slow movements designed to try and find a position that hurt just a little less. Once she even spread her legs slightly, plainly showing her pussy and the slimy residue of cum that continued to seep from her holes.
Eventually, with much effort and cries, Julie pushed herself into a semi-upright position. Her face was a mask of pain, and it didn't last long. The muscles in her legs and stomach shook from the effort to remain up, and finally gave out. She slumped back down, too quickly, for she jerked back down onto her wrists and yelled in pain when she came to an abrupt halt. Every muscle in her body strained and stood out, as if she was made of ropes covered with smooth flesh. The flesh of her body stretched against her ribs and hips, showing their shape clearly.
The Broker approached his victim. She was suspended about 2 feet higher than he, so he tilted his head up to where her face hung. She saw and recognized him. "How long?" she asked.
"How long until you die?" He asked. "I don't know. I don't think they knew in Roman times, either. Each person is different. But I think you are a strong, healthy girl. I suspect you have a day or two ahead of you, at least."
Julie grimaced and tears ran down her face. The Broker reached out and placed his hand on her cheek, and then slowly ran it down her neck, over her breast, across her stomach, and finally pressed it between her legs. Julie flushed in humiliation at his unrestricted access to her body.
A few minutes later Julie lost bladder control. She didn't intend to but somehow her body simply let loose a stream of urine onto the ground. When she became aware of what she was doing she cried out and sobbed in humiliation, tried unsuccessfully to stop the stream of urine, and finally sank down in despair, shuddering as a new round of nerve pain shot from her hands through her shoulders and upper back.
As the evening turned dark, three of the men went home for the evening to eat dinner, sleep in their beds and rest. The last stayed the evening to make sure there was no interference with the victim during the night.
With darkness, the air grew cold around Julie's bare skin. She was naked and exposed and the cold slowly ate through her flesh and seemed to settle in her bones. With arms spread and legs separated she was open to the cold over her entire body, unable to huddle and warm herself. The pain she was experiencing had gotten worse, the cramping and aches and sudden electric shocks of nerve pain spreading and becoming more pervasive. She moaned off and on, sometimes crying out and others simply hanging, concentrating on breathing.
What impacted her most was how incredibly wrong the entire situation felt. Her entire body was screaming out at her, warning her that things were bad, incredibly bad, that she needed to fix them. The cold was horrible but she could not move to cover herself. Her hands and arms were developing infections and hurting horribly, but she could not care for them. She needed sleep, but could not sleep. Her stomach and bowels were trying to digest and process her last meal but were losing the ability to do so, causing horrible abdominal cramping. Being hung outside, naked and unable to do anything but slowly die from exposure was breaking her mind in two.
The man that was staying to watch her became bored after a while, sitting in a lawn chair, and began to snore.
Halfway through the night Julie defecated. It was loud, a splattering of lumpy diarrhea and gas. The stench rose to her nostrils. Her buttocks and the backs of her thighs were splattered. She wanted to clean herself, but couldn't. She thought of just how strange this was, to be immobilized without any bondage at all. It wasn't that odd to be tied up and unable to move. Hanging in the freezing cold here, with no ropes or straps, and yet still unable to move in any meaningful way, was profoundly disturbing.
The night wore on and Julie's senses were dulled. Exhaustion set in and she found that while she could not sleep, her mind withdrew from reality and played tricks on her. Thoughts drifted, and she imagined she was in a hospital, dying in a bed in the hall but none of the nurses or doctors would pay attention to her. She imagined her ex-boyfriend standing before her, laughing and touching her in lewd ways as she begged him to let her down. The disgusting old man she had sold herself to as her last sexual encounter took her from behind again, fucking her up the ass, except his cock burned with a fire that consumed her guts in flame.
It felt like she had been suspended on the cross for days when the dark blue slowly turned to an orange glow and the sun peaked over the horizon. From where she hung she had a beautiful view of the sunrise, but it gave her no pleasure. She wondered if it would be her last. She hoped it would be.
When the three men straggled in later that morning, they found the one who stood guard sleeping in his lawn chair. "Whew! What stinks? Did she die during the night and start rotting?" The Broker was waving his hand in front of his face.
The man heaved himself out of the lawn chair and grumbled, "Nah. She just peed and shit herself. She's still plenty alive."
As if to prove his point, Julie struggled to raise herself up on the cross once again, her leg and arm muscles working to pull and push, her body twisting to the side during the struggle. As she gained the upright position her head flopped back and she took deep breaths, her chest and breasts heaving up and down seductively.
"I can't stand the stench. Get the hose," The Broker said. He turned on the water pressure and sprayed off Julie's soiled flesh and the cross behind her. It improved the smell significantly.
"Thirsty..." Julie spoke from the cross, the first time in several hours.
"What's that?" The man closest to her looked up at her dripping wet body.
"Thirst. Please... water... please..."
It was true; Julie's lips were dry and split. She had not had water in 24 hours, and the dehydration from the sun and blood loss was significant. In fact, it was possible she might die of thirst sometime soon.
Julie cried dry tears, sobbing, but nodded her head. A tiny bit of urine trickled out from between her legs, as if her body was trying to hang on to whatever moisture it could. "I never thought it would be... this... bad..."
"I know, dear. It is why you committed before hand. It's what you wanted, remember?"
"Yes... this is what I wanted..." she croaked.
An hour later she raised her head and said something. Her voice no longer served her well and The Broker moved close to listen.
"How.... long...." she rasped.
"Soon now, very soon." The Broker ran his hand over her body once again.
The morning continued with Julie remaining mostly motionless except for her occasional struggles to raise herself up. As cold as the night had been, the sun now beat down on her naked skin and burned it. She was red from the sunburn, first pink and then an angry red.
In the mid-afternoon, the biggest of the men sat looking at the woman's struggled breathing, and said "I wish we could fuck her once more and then take her out of her misery. Her body sure looks good but man, she must be in agony."
The Broker was sitting in thought. Finally he said, "I think it is time."
The other men looked at him with puzzlement as he got up and went down to the barn. He returned with an old, rusty bar from a scrap heap. He went up to Julie and spoke to her briefly, the other men didn't hear what was said, but saw her nod.
The Broker stepped back and then wielded the iron bar like a baseball bat. Swinging with with all his might he struck Julie's left leg in the center of the shin. It made a sickening soft thud and crack, leaving the leg at an odd angle. Julie's head jerked back and she screamed, a hoarse, raspy scream and then sank back down.
A second swing and her right leg was broken. She screamed again, but her lack of strength and hoarse voice was no longer enough to sustain the cry. She collapsed back down.
"Why'd ya do that?" asked one of the men angrily.
"Old Roman tradition. It isn't known if it was to cause more pain and humiliation or to speed death, but breaking the legs is something they did after a while. In her case... it's to speed her death."
The men nodded somberly.
Julie no longer raised herself up to breathe. She simply hung in place.
Around sunset The Broker went up close to the cross and observed Julie closely. She hadn't moved in some time. He placed his hand on her chest, and felt nothing. There was no sign of breathing. She had died, quietly, after losing consciousness some time before.
"We can go home now. Let her hang there for a day or two, the birds will come pick on the body. Back here, 9:00 AM in two days, we will burn what is left."
The men went home. The memory of the girl's decision, along with the consequential agony and death, followed them home. The video from the execution was kept secret for many years, though it eventually made its way into certain circles of the internet. It's impact was wide and varied. For some it inspired sadistic or masochistic tendencies. For many, it constituted a depressing reminder of man's cruel past and a decision to move forward, reaffirming commitment to human rights and justice throughout the world. For a few, it was an enlightening scientific and historical exercise.
Two of the men involved with Julie's suicide committed suicide themselves within a year. Another was arrested and sentenced to life imprisonment on an unrelated charge. The Broker disappeared, and it is not known what happened to him.