Sunday, September 29, 2013

Crucified Female


The prelate's young wife sat with her legs on either side of her husband's hips, rocking back and forth. The moonlight showed the tight curves of her naked body as she moved forward, then back, pushing her hips down and forward, back and out. The prelate's hands caressed her young flesh, moving from her stomach to her sides, and then up to her soft breasts as she breathed heavily from arousal.

Others had told him Julia was too young to be a good wife, but he had loved her and desired her, and she was turning out to be the perfect lover. The feeling deep inside his groin was becoming more intense as her soft, textured flesh stroked his penis deep within her. His hips moved with her, encouraging her, as she encouraged him, until in a gasping paroxysm of pleasure, he ejaculated inside her belly.

Her body shone with sweat as she opened her eyes, smiled, and slowly lowered herself onto his chest. He made her happy, and it was her joy to know she had pleased him. She lay on him, feeling his breathing, as he slowly became soft and slid out of her.

At length Julia said softly, "My husband, I have not been able to forget what you showed me on the hill of death a few weeks ago."

He kissed the top of her head, his fingers sliding over her smooth skin.

"And what do you think, now?" he said to her.

"I want to do it again. If you approve, only if you approve. It ... aroused me."

He lay silent, stroking her naked back, and then finally spoke. "It would make my happy to share this with you again, if you please."

She rose to her elbows, long hair drifting down over his chest as she looked in his eyes with disguised eagerness. "Yes, I would like it. Is there someone on the hill tonight?"

The prelate laughed at her eagerness. "Yes, there is someone on the hill. A woman though. Tonight might not be the best night."

Julia's face was serious and thoughtful for a moment before she spoke. "Why not? I would like to see a woman. I've never touched a woman before. Can we go?"

She crawled off her husband and stood looking in the direction of the execution hill. Her husband rose and began to dress. "Yes, of course. By all means. She was hung just this afternoon and will still be conscious. Get dressed."

The two of them dressed, and then left by the private garden door to the small footpath that led to the edge of the city. They glided silently, the tall veteran warrior and his slender, smaller wife behind him a half a step. They climbed the hill, the torches of the guards visible at the top. As they neared the crest, Julia could see the cross facing the city, and the figure of a young woman hanging from it, lit by the orange firelight.

The woman retained much of her beauty in spite of having been whipped and nailed to wooden beams. Her body was shapely, slender but with good curves. Her breasts hung forward, heavy and dangling as the woman's body hung slightly away from the cross behind her. Nails had been expertly driven through her feet at an angle so as to force the condemned's legs apart. The dark thatch between her legs was exposed clearly along with the folds of pink flesh of her genitalia. Her arms extended up and slightly behind her to where the spikes were driven through her wrists. Fingers curled into the shape of claws, stiff and unmoving above the spikes.

Hair obscured much of the face, dark brown and scraggly now, but what Julia could see revealed a very pretty girl of about 18, face dirty with tears and dust, now distorted with a permanent visage of agony. Julia gasped slightly at the unexpected sight of such a lovely young girl crucified and dying before her.

"What has she done?"

The prelate responded as they gazed at the condemned. "She is a prostitute from the north that came to the city, and stole from several of her customers."

The prelate turned to the guards and commanded them to withdraw. Familiar with his practices, the centurion gathered the men and they descended the hill to prevent any intruders from coming close.

Julia simply stood observing the crucified woman for a while. She observed the sagging agony, the small shifting movements of a body in pain trying to find relief where there was none. Small grunts came from the the woman as she labored to draw each breath. Her skin shone with sweat from the heat and pain, and the wetness created very slight reflections that emphasized the curves of her body. A trickling of blood smeared each hand where the nails had penetrated, as well as the feet.

Finally, Julia stepped forward and examined the woman's legs spread before her. She reached up and ran one hand along the inner thigh, from the knee to where the leg joined the body in a soft curve. The touch aroused the condemned woman and she grunted, and then cried out. Her body shook and writhed, shifting in place as if trying to avoid the touch, though there was nothing she could do to avoid it. Spewing forth sounds that Julia did not understand, the crucified woman cried out in a foreign language. Words scrambled and panicked, pleading, angry, sobbing.

"She comes from Gallia," the prelate said as he joined his wife close to the cross. "She speaks latin, but has probably forgotten it in her agony."

With a slow, gentle movement Julia continued stroking the naked flesh of the woman, finding the folds of her genitals and massaging them.

"I've never touched another woman." Julia was intent, curious, focused. She reached her other hand up and used both to stretch and spread the folds of soft skin apart, exposing the condemned's fleshy tunnel.

"Many men have been inside her," the prelate commented, reaching out and using a thumb and forefinger to spread her lips and expose the small nub of flesh which was the center of sexual pleasure.

"Touch her," he said.

Julia slid one finger inside the soft flesh, and when it penetrated all the way used her thumb to press against the woman's clitoris. She was rewarded by immediate grunts and moans from above and a stream of uninterpretable words. Then the legs tensed, straining and writhing back and forth, causing cries of pain above, and yet they still strained until the whore's body began to lift up removing Julia's tormenting hand from the crucified's vagina. She raised herself to an almost standing position, arms straight out to either side, breathing in deep gulps of air, her stomach palpitating as she gasped.

As she stood on the nails driven through the bones of her feet, she screamed out in agony, pain unbelievable, and yet continued to push down, keeping her body up, gasping for air between sobs. Finally the pain was too much or she reached exhaustion and slipped quickly back down, her knees spreading outward as they bent.

Julia's hand was ready and as the whore descended the cross two fingers slid up inside her and begin wiggling around. Julia found the spots that gave her the most pleasure when she made love to her husband, and began a rhythmic stroking.

At first, it seemed to have no effect. Julia simply continued stroking, sliding fingers in and out, massaging as she did to herself when she was alone. She knew what made her feel good and she did the same to this woman. Soon the gasps of pain and slight shivers of the nude body before her changed slightly. Pleasure was creeping in, penetrating the agonized existence of the condemned.

Quickening her pace, Julia dug deeper, pretending her fingers were a penis, penetrating and sliding over the woman's clitoris. The girl's hips began a very slight movement, in sync with Julia's ministrations. The grunts of pain matched the same rhythm.

Julia looked up at the woman's face, hanging down from the cross above. Sweat tricked down over the heavy breasts that wobbled slightly, and above that the beautiful tear streaked face of the young woman looked down at her, eyes filled with horror as she saw Julia looking back up at her. The absolute humiliation and despair of her body being masturbated and forced into arousal as she was slowly and publicly dying was more than the woman's mind could take. Her eyes took on a crazed look, the agony that rippled through her body mixed with the pleasure being forced on her, intensifying it, and with a howl she lifted her head to the sky, thrust her hips out and reached a massive sexual climax.

The prelate stood behind his wife, wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. He had almost had an orgasm just watching his young woman torturing and pleasuring the condemned woman on the cross. He was hard, raging, pulsatingly hard. Julia withdrew her hand from inside the whore and sniffed. She then reached her fingers to her husband who took them in his mouth, tasting the juices of agony from the crucified girl.

"I have something to show you. We use it sometimes to enhance the torture of the execution." The prelate moved over to a pile of equipment left by the soldiers. He returned with an oddly shaped piece of curved wood about two feet long. It looked something like a very rough wooden horn, wide at the bottom and narrowing to a point as it curved up.

"This is a cornu. I had it made based on information I received from Rome."

Julia looked at it with amazement. She couldn't figure out what it was or how it was used. As Julia reached out and touched its blackened and smooth surface, the crucified woman moaned, grunted and screamed as she pushed herself up once again, knees straightening, arms pulling, every muscle tensed.  The prelate quickly went over to the cross and positioned the cornu with its widest point next to the cross upright. A protruding notch in the cornu slid into place inside a hole which had been drilled in the wood of the cross. Once in place, the cornu formed a curved spike that extended out from the wood beam and then up, pointing toward the shaking groin of the woman screaming above.

Once again, the agony overcame the woman and she sank down on the cross. This time, well before she descended all the way to where her arms stretched out and jerked her to a stop, the point of the cornu rammed home against her soft genital flesh. She screamed, raised herself up an inch or so, but the pain in her feet and legs was too much. She descended again, her hips moving against the new object of torment that sought to pierce and penetrate her body from below.

The cornu smashed against the condemned's soft flesh and then slid to the nearest opening-- her vagina. As the weight of the woman bore down on the pointed horror, it sank deep inside of her. A horrible twisted grimace came over the beautiful if dirty face as the point sunk home. The gradual increase in size of the cornu spread the flesh wider and wider as she sank down, until it was distended and white, stretched horrifically.

The crucified woman began sobbing. She breathed easier, as the weight of most of her body was now focused where she was impaled by the cornu. Julia remembered its length and knew the point must have dug all the way in and was pressing the woman's internal organs, causing terrible pain inside her stomach. She shuddered to herself, just as the crucified woman shuddered and tried to rise up off the impalement device.

"What is the purpose of this thing? Does it quicken her death?" Julia spoke in wonder to her husband.

"No, no. It is like a seat, a place her body can rest and will help her breathe. When she grows weaker, it will actually keep her alive longer, though the agony is greater, for it slowly impales and tears the flesh below, as you can see. It extends and increases the length and intensity of her pain."

"Oh...." Julia's heart was pounding.

The lean legs of the crucified woman were straining to lift again, to relieve the pressure of the spike which impaled her. With a cry she pressed upward, her tight flesh surrounding the cornu as if it were a penis, clinging to it as she rose. As the tip exited her womanhood, the whore thrust her hips out as if to avoid the cornu's penetration and sank down.

The attempt at relief didn't really help. Instead of penetrating her vagina, the cornu sank into another hole - the anus. Ramming home into this firm flesh, the unyielding cornu impaled the girl once again. Her screams and moans were panicked, her hips attempted to move but were held fast and unmoving by the spike that ascended deep into her bowels. With no strength left, the woman sank down, involuntarily letting the wide wooden horn spread her anus and sink deep within her. She sat on the spike, hips turned slightly out, exposing her sex even more fully than before.

Julia's excitement flushed her cheeks as she watched the whore on the cross. She could not imagine anything more horrible, more humiliating, more demeaning that to be stretched out like that, fully naked and exposed, in horrible agony for all to see, on display and forced to impale herself on the insidious device. It made her aroused, excited, and she reached out as if to touch and experience the agony of crucifixion herself. She leaned forward and placed her lips on the genital lips of the whore and began to suck. The whore was attempting to move but couldn't; the nails in her feet and spike in her bowels kept her still, available, exposed as Julia sucked and licked her clitoris, shoving her tongue inside the opening where the cornu had spread the flesh wide moments before.

Behind her, the prelate stood in a state of incredible arousal. Seeing his gorgeous young wife servicing the crucified woman like this, concentrating on giving pleasure during the pain, was all he could take. He pushed his robe aside and exposed his erect member, pressing up behind Julia as she sucked the flesh of the whore before her. He lifted Julia's dress and with a single easy thrust pushed his member deep inside his wife. She automatically spread her legs slightly, never stopping her oral attentions to the dying girl before her.

Thrusting hard against Julia, the prelate reached around her hips, holding her and placing one hand in front, pushing down to reach her clitoris, which he stimulated directly as he slid in and out of her from behind. Julia moaned and shifted her hips to accommodate her husband's entry. His thrusts were so hard they pushed her, so to keep her balance she placed both of her hands on the crucified girl's thighs, pushing them wide as she braced herself. The girl screamed as this caused her nailed feet to twist on the nails, but moments later she moaned as Julia's constant, expert sucking and licking brought her closer to climax once again.

As the crucified whore cried out in mixed agony and the pleasure of sexual orgasm, Julia felt her own climax sweep her body and she shuddered and moaned. The prelate had one hand on her breast, feeling her erect and hardened nipples as moments later he moaned and grunted as he ejaculated a huge load of semen deep inside his wife.

Having spent himself, the prelate pulled out of his young wife and sank to the ground in exhaustion. Julia sank down next to him, and they lay back next to the warming fire, his arms around her. They watched the crucified woman for a while longer as she squirmed and writhed on the cornu, finally managing to lift herself off one more time, only to descend with the spike impaling her deep inside her vagina once again. She slumped, exhausted, and did not move.

"Is she dead? Will she die soon?" Julia looked on curiously.

"No, no. With the cornu, I doubt if she will die for another two days, if the soldiers give her water."

"Could we come tomorrow night? I want to see her again."

The prelate frowned. "Perhaps. She won't be in good shape. She will live but will probably smell and not move much. We shall see."

He stood, lifting his wife to stand beside him, and they turned to head back to the palace. The prelate thought of how quickly his young wife had adapted to the palace and his own desires, and marveled. He felt the stirrings of another erection, and knew that he would enter her again that night in their chambers.