Sheri and Paul had joined the Crux Club 4 years before, and it had been all they had hoped for. Once every three months one of their tight knit and perverted group was crucified for all the others to enjoy. The crucifixion was done with ropes, of course, and carefully monitored and rigged to prevent any permanent damage or life threatening situations.
It could still be rather scary; there was the time when Len had been up for several hours and had lost consciousness suddenly. He had not shown signs of pain or stress, but later they determined the heat had gotten to him and he had reacted badly. After that one, they started monitoring body temperature (through the anus, a humiliating addition to the ritual). Another time Susan had started crying hard and begging to be let down. They finally relented and discovered that she had pulled a muscle in her shoulder, and had maybe even dislocated it temporarily.
Given the stress and pain the cross was designed to deliver, they had a pretty good track record.
That was about to change, and the decision was both exciting and terrifying. They were about to crucify one of their members for real. Real nails. Real torture. Real death.
The group had become restless. They all had spent time on the cross and sought something different, something exciting. Every member had some sort of sadomasochistic side; some more sadistic or masochistic, but they were all there to get off on the pain, the humiliation, the edge play, the simulated death. Some of the members had no interest in being hung on the cross at all; they were there simply to get off on seeing others suffer. But the desire was enough that they were willing to submit to the torture themselves, in order to participate when others were hung from the tree. It was part of the deal.
It was time to take it a step further and select someone to actually suffer and die on the cross.
Sheri and Paul organized the selection randomization process. There were a total of 32 members in the club, an equal number of men and women. Only one would die, chosen through a foolproof method that randomized the result and prevented anyone from influencing or perverting the selection process.
The chances of any one of them being selected as the victim was 3%. It seemed like a reasonable chance to take; the chance to take part in and observe a true crucifixion. The only price to be paid? A 3% risk that you might be the one crucified.
The Crux Club met early on a Saturday morning on a hill miles from the nearest town. The closest human habitation was a farm three miles away. The chances of being interrupted were practically zero. The hill rose high enough that they could see rolling hills and a valley in the distance, but trees obscured the view of anyone that might be close enough to see. It was a perfect and marvelous place for the ritual.
All the members of the club were there. All were between the ages of 21 and 35. There was a balance of 16 males and 16 females, a requirement that had been enforced since the first two couples had formed the group years before. The newest members were Kass, a tall thin brunette about 30, and a tough looking young blond guy named Bryce who was maybe 23. The two were not a couple, but had entered together.
The sun peeped over the horizon and lit the member's faces as they gathered in the circle at the top of the hill. The first step in the selection process took place. Each member rolled three dice. The member with the highest roll was selected to perform the next step in the selection process. Kass rolled 17, and was chosen.
The air was cool this early in the morning. Sheri and Paul hugged each other, sharing body warmth. Sheri was an intern at a hospital nearby. Paul was studying to be an attorney. They had met at an SM sex club several years before and discovered their common interests. It was a perfect match. They were both excited by the prospect of the day's activities. They only saw the other members of the group once every three months, they were there for the kink and weren't actually attached to anyone there except each other. This helped when it came to enjoying the sadistic side of the game.
Kass went to a bowl on a small table that contained a set of small round plastic containers, each with a name contained inside. She drew 6 of the plastic containers from the bowl and opened each one. She read the names out loud. "Len." "Alice." "Scott." "Kass." "Sheri." "Paul."
Paul held Sheri tightly. His face was white and lips pressed together tightly. He was under stress as well.
As arranged before, the six candidates were separated from the rest of the group. They were all stripped naked, all clothes, jewelry and other items removed so they were completely naked. It was still cold out in the morning air, and they shivered, trying to cover themselves.
Handcuffs then secured their hands behind their backs to prevent any last minute attempts to back out on the arrangement. Sheri and Paul were pried apart, though they stood close together once they had been cuffed.
The unchosen members of the group rolled the dice again. Bryce rolled the high value. Taking the next step in the selection process he took a sealed deck of cards and shuffled them. Another member of the group cut the deck and he laid the deck on the table. The top card was removed and placed face up. It was a six, and was placed in a position for the first of the candidates. The deck was cut again by another member; the top card drawn and placed next to the first. It was placed in the position for the second of the candidates.
In this way six cards were drawn.
Sheri's card was an Ace, as was Kass. They were the final two candidates.
Sheri broke down and began crying. Kass looked shaky, but stood firm. Paul suddenly broke out and began protesting, saying that he no longer wished to be part of the scene, that this wasn't right, that he refused to allow Sheri to be selected. Several members dragged Paul to the side where he was shoved onto the ground and hogtied. He lay struggling on the ground, crying out for Sheri.
The remaining unselected candidates had their handcuffs removed.
With the sound of Paul's protests in the background, the group gathered for the last throw of the dice. All members would throw one die. The first throw was for Sheri. The total count of all the dice was 97. If the second throw of the dice was more than 97, Sheri was safe; Kass would be crucified. If it was less than 97, Sheri would be crucified and Kass was safe.
The last roll was made. The number, when counted, was 53.
Sheri was to be crucified.
Kass almost collapsed, the relief visibly overwhelming her. Sheri fainted, falling to the ground unconscious.
The handcuffs were removed from Kass. All 30 members of the group surrounded Sheri. Her limp body was dragged a few feet to the crest of the hill.
Each member of the group was both relieved they had not been chosen, and glad that they now could observe the actual crucifixion of Sheri. Sheri was deservedly considered the cutest, sexiest of all the women in the group. Seeing her suffer and die on the cross was exactly the outcome that many had desired.
Sheri recovered from her faint and stood naked in the clearing as the members of the group took the opportunity to taunt her. They called her names and threw rocks and rotten fruit at her. A whip was produced and she was made to dance, hopping and leaping to avoid the lash. Her bare flesh glistened from saliva that smeared over her, the result of the group spitting repeatedly. The whipping drew blood which mixed with the spit and made her skin shiny.
After a half hour of abuse, the poor, frantic girl was forced down onto the ground and laid on the wood beams of the cross. She wasn't giving up easily; she struggled and kicked but there were far too many others surrounding her. Getting away was simply not possible. Two of the women in the group sat on her body while others held her arm out on the crossbeam.
Plans had been made to drive the nail into the exact location where the wrist joined the arm, crushing the joint bones and driving between the ulna and radius bones. The first heavy metal spike was produced. It was angled correctly. The mallet was raised.
A scream echoed across the hillside as the spike drove home. Sheri's pain shattered their consciousness. She now writhed from pain and panic, her desire to get away taking over and causing her body to thrash around insanely.
Three, then four strokes and the spike was firmly in place, through her wrist and embedded deeply into the wood at an angle to support the pull of Sheri's weight on the spike.
Paul struggled and writhed as he watched his lover's wrist nailed to wood. He cried out, calling to Sheri and begging the others to have mercy. He was ignored.
Attention turned to Sheri's other arm. The spike and mallet were given to Kass this time, in honor of her having avoided Sheri's fate so narrowly. Kass carefully angled the spike at the wrist, just where it meets the palm of the hand. The point of the spike was pressed against the flesh, digging in slightly. Kass had an unexpectedly triumphant look as she paused to make sure the spike was placed and angled exactly right, and to taunt Sheri as she waited for the spike to be driven into her arm.
Kass brought the mallet down with an unexpected fierceness and the spike plunged through Sheri's flesh, deep through her wrist, shattering bones and crushing tendons as it went. Sheri screamed once again, her naked breasts heaving and shaking up and down. Kass hammered the spike through and down deep into the wood. When she was finished she stood and surveyed her handiwork with satisfaction.
Seeing Sheri suffering aroused her, deeply.
While the pain of her shattered wrists had drawn much of Sheri's strength from her, the panic, fear and agony triggered huge amounts of adrenaline that made the poor condemned girl thrash and writhe about on the ground. She did not cry, she was far beyond crying. She screamed over and over, kicking and pulling herself around, seeking to free herself from the wooden cross beneath her.
Sheri would go nowhere now with both wrists nailed to the cross. The members of the group stepped back to admire Sheri as she writhed. She really did have a beautiful body, and it was moving, muscles rippling and legs flailing. Her arms were stretched wide and there was nothing she could do about it. She was nailed down. Her eyes were crazed, face flushed, and foam gathered at the corners of her mouth. Her breasts heaved up and down and stomach contracted enticingly as she panted.
Three of the guys in the group grabbed Sheri's legs as they thrashed about, forcing them to bend and pushing her feet to the ground on the top of the cross's beam. They had decided on nailing her feet with a spike driven directly through the top of her foot, which would shatter and spread the delicate bones that extended through the foot to her toes. A spike was angled in place, the point dead center of Sheri's foot. Her other foot was shoved underneath so the spike would go through both feet in the same manner.
The mallet struck the spike, which in turn easily penetrated the flesh. The strike was weak, though, and the point barely penetrated to the bones. Sheri screamed as the spike was pulled free, repositioned and held in place by the wound that had been made from the first strike. Once again the mallet came down, this time strongly, enough to penetrate deep into the foot, smashing bone, ripping through nerves, causing searing pain.
The spike was struck again and again. On the second blow it exited the bottom of Sheri's right foot and just scraped the surface of her left. With repeated strikes, the nail penetrated the second foot, smashed bone and spread that shattered remains of both feet apart as the widening girth of the spike penetrated deeper and deeper. Sheri's screams were non-stop at this point.
Both arms and legs were now nailed and all Sheri could do was to cry out, move her hips and torso up and down, and shake her head back and forth. This she did, though in a few minutes she calmed and lay sobbing, motionless. Body movement simply placed strain on the parts of her limbs that were nailed down, and it became clear to her that it was less painful when she was motionless.
Paul shrank back in his cage as he watched five of the men in the group lift Sheri's wooden cross up into the air, slowly, very slowly. It was angled slightly as they got their grip, and as she was raised into the air Sheri was easier to see. Her body slid down slightly on the cross as gravity began to pull her down.
Slowly, slowly, the cross raised higher, and it became clear that Sheri's arms were already stretched out wide to their limit. Even so, her own weight pulled her down, her back scraping on the wood beneath her, gouges and large splinters embedding themselves in her back and ass. Her arms did not move any further, but her body's own weight stretched it out as gravity pulled it away from the spikes that held her in place.
When the cross passed 45 degrees, Sheri's body slid down even further, stretching her arms above her head. It was fascinating watching her body elongate and stretch, the muscles of her arms, shoulders and chest stand out as she hung from her nailed position. Flesh pulled tight over her ribs, and her stomach went concave as her hips slid down and away, her body stretching as it went from a laying position into a hanging position. The muscles in her arms began to define themselves better, stretching and going tight, as well.
Sliding the base of the cross to the hole prepared earlier, the bottom sunk quickly down and jerked to a stop in the upright position. Sheri's body jerked down as well, all her weight yanking on the nails through her wrists. She didn't scream; she passed out.
It only lasted a minute or so before Sheri regained consciousness. She began moaning, gasping and crying. Paul was silent in his bonds off to the side. Others in the group gathered and examined the woman's body closely, looking for physical signs of her suffering.
Sheri's knees had been bent before her ankles were nailed, and now that she had sagged down on the cross they naturally bent outward because of the angle at which her feet had been nailed on top of each other. Her sex was clearly visible.
Several members of the club moved forward and began to feel Sheri's nakedness. This was a common occurrence during their rituals. It was arousing to touch another's body, especially one that was helpless to respond. Usually, the person on the cross also was aroused by the touching and invasion of their exposed nakedness; it was part of the crucifixion experience. This time, Sheri felt the probing and fondling with horror and fear.
There was little blood. A trickle of dark red descended down each ankle and dripped onto the ground. A small amount of blood also ran from the spike's in Sheri's delicate hands, down the underside of her thin arms, and was slowly trickling down her sides.
The members of the club began to taunt Sheri, and then ask her about what she was feeling.
"Where does it hurt, Sheri?"
"Can you feel your fingers, Sheri?"
"Try standing up on your nails, and tell us what it feels like!"
"Sheri, Can you breathe OK?"
The girl's sobs had quieted some, and she was not answering the questions. The agony was obvious, and she was shifting her body back and forth, seeking a better position that didn't exist. Every movement simply caused more pain.
The sweat was breaking out on her body, mixing with the blood and trickling down. Her flesh was shiny, making her look even sexier in the sunlight.
Kass went up to Sheri and reached up to her cunt, slipping fingers inside.
"She's wet! She's wet!" Exclaimed Kass.
Everyone had to feel after this was revealed. Each club member roughly examined Sheri's exposed sex, and the consensus was that while Sheri was, indeed, quite moist, it was most probably due to sweat and strain.
"Speak, tell us what hurts!" Shouted one of the men. Sheri was refusing to respond, instead simply moaning and crying.
The man got out a whip and snapped it in front of Sheri. "Where does it hurt? Tell us!"
The whip lashed out and kissed Sheri's naked flesh. She yelped, and screamed at the second brutal lashing.
"It hurts everywhere!" She screamed.
"Your hands, they are shaped like claws! Can you move your fingers?" asked one of the women.
Sheri looked at her fingers, indeed curled like claws but stiff and unmoving.
She gasped, and then grunted out, "I can't... I can't. They hurt, they hurt so badly, but I can't move them at all."
Sheri tried to raise herself up, pushing down on the nails that pinioned her feet to the cross. A sickening crunching noise was heard as the shattered remnants of her bones scraped and she screamed, then collapsed again, and screamed again as her weight jerked on her wrists.
"Do you want water? Do you want wine?" Cried out one of the men.
Sheri shook her head. She wanted to drink desperately, but she knew it would only prolong her agony. She was dying, and it would take a long time. There was no need to make it longer.
Snacks were served. A light lunch, with cheese, bread, fresh fruit and wine. Sheri watched as 30 people all dined in front of her, laughing and enjoying themselves as she suffered and hungered and thirsted on the cross.
"Take her temperature!" Someone said, and they did. Serena got the thermometer and reached between Sheri's legs and pushed her ass cheeks apart. She jammed the unit into Sheri's asshole, and left it there for a while. Sheri didn't react to this indignity, she was too distracted by the throbbing pain that was spreading from her shoulders across her entire back.
It was like a full body charlie horse cramp.
Finally, Serena pulled out the thermometer. "101" she called out.
"Infection setting in? Or just heat stroke? She might die sooner than expected!" The discussion centered around how well Sheri was doing.
She didn't look good. Her flesh varied between pale and bright red sunburn. Her face was gaunt and her eyes puffy as they darted around. Flies had started gathering around her face, and a few were landing between her legs.
"AAaartrgghghghgghh!" Sheri groaned, almost shouting in frustration from not being able to scratch itches, not being able to brush flies away, not being able to wipe her nose where the mucus hung in a long thin strand.
Her body arched out, stomach and hips protruding as her body weight pulled her away from the cross. That was incredibly painful and she almost fainted again, and slumped back.
That was when she peed. A sudden, unannounced steady stream of urine sprayed out from between her legs an onto the ground.
"Whoa... " said Serena. "Glad she didn't do that when I was in there."
Sheri hadn't even realize she was going to pee; it just happened. She was losing control of her body. Muscles were not obeying, senses were betraying her.
It came to be late afternoon and Sheri was watching the sun go down, shining directly into her eyes. She could do nothing to shield them; it was just another small piece of the agony. Another piece that was beginning to drive her insane were the flies, which now swarmed all over her head and between her legs.
The flies on her face crawled into her eyes and mouth. Some had crawled up her nose. Sheri shook her head, trying to get them to go away, but that only got rid of them for a few seconds. They somehow knew there was nothing Sheri could do to them and they started exploring her orifices.
Sheri's long hair had plastered to her face and neck, made wet by the sweat. Some of it was in her eyes but she could do nothing about it.
She screamed once again, both in pain and in frustration for all the indignities, the complete exposure and inability to even wipe her nose, which had been draining in long gobs of mucus for some time.
To the side, Paul was still hogtied until someone figured he was no longer a danger. Sheri was too far gone to save now, she would only survive with the help of a hospital, and the entire group that could not happen. No one would know what had happened to Sheri.
Paul came over to Sheri, who looked down at him. "Paul... oh, god... Paul... please help me..."
She was begging in a hoarse, husky voice that no longer sounded like Sheri. Paul reached out and touched Sheri's feet, running his hands over the bumps and blackened bruises caused by the shattered bones beneath the flesh. He touched the end of the spike where it was exposed above her skin.
He kissed her feet, his arms sliding up her legs to her hips, and then he slid his hands between her legs to feel her cunt one last time.
Sheri screamed in frustration, feeling that even Paul had abandoned her, and Paul backed off. He hunched over, and went to a table to get a glass of wine and have some cheese and crackers.
"Do you want some water yet, Sheri?" Called someone.
"Just give it to her!"
A sponge filled with water was raised to Sheri's face on the end of a stick. She didn't want to take any, but she couldn't help herself. She reached out and took a long suck.
The group laughed as Sheri suddenly spat out the liquid and moaned in frustration. It was water mixed with vinegar. The vinegar made her mouth feel ten times worse. It was another form of torture.
The entire front of Sheri's lovely body was bright red with a massive sunburn. She was no longer slick with sweat, and indication she was entering severe dehydration.
Several of the members of the Crucifixion club had sex at that point. In face, something of an impromptu orgy occurred as the sun went below the horizon. A pile of bodies writhed, arms and legs intertwined, cocks entering pussies randomly, tongues sliding along bodies. Sheri was barely aware of what was happening before her.
There was a fire that night. Not a huge one, for a large bonfire might draw too much attention. But a nice, warm blaze that lit up Sheri's body and made it's hanging form that much more beautiful.
Sheri had adopted a body position where she pushed her hips and back all the way out, curved away from the cross. No one knew why, but apparently it was easier to tolerate. It was more fun to watch, that was certain.
Finally Sheri weakened enough she no longer struggled and simply hung from the cross.
"I think she is near death," Serina said.
"Let me take her temperature," Kass took the thermometer, shoved it up her ass. Sheri didn't move when Kass invaded her rectum.
After a few minutes Kass reached to remove the thermometer. As it slid out, so did a load of diarrhea. Shit spewed from Sheri's beautiful rounded ass, hit the cross and slid down.
"Ohhhh god ewwwwwww" Kass exclaimed, jumping out of the way. "She did that on purpose!"
"I doubt it," someone said. "It was just the stimulation of the thermometer in her ass. I think her body has been reduced to rather automatic responses at the moment."
"Sheri? Sheri? Can you hear us? Does it still hurt?" Several of the members were curious whether Sheri was nearing death, and whether she was still in agony or whether she was losing consciousness.
Sheri lifted her head and tried to spit on the others on the ground below her. It didn't work; she had no saliva in her mouth. The other laughed at her when she did this. "I guess she is still with us and lucid, eh?"
One of the members of the club got a step ladder to get closer to Sheri's face.
"Sheri. Tell me. Where does it hurt? How does it hurt? Tell us of the torture."
She was delirious, but responded. "My hands... numb. Gone. Arms ache horribly. Shoulders cramping, terribly. Can't stop it. Back hurts. Front burns, burning up. Feet gone, numb. Stomach is nauseous. Dizzy. World... is going around. Want to stop it, but can't. Want to get down. Please let me down. Please... please..."
"Can't do that Sheri. You have to die first. You know this will get worse and worse until you die, right?"
Sheri nodded and her head sunk down, hair falling forward.
"She smells," someone said.
The night wore on. The entire group stayed, camping out. Most slept, some stayed up and watched the poor victim hanging.
As the sun came up the next day, those that had slept rose and came over to check on the victim. "Is she dead? Did she go during the night?"
"No, she is still alive, but barely. I think she is dehydrating pretty fast."
"I thought she would last several days."
"Yeah, me too."
"She still seems to be in pain, though she isn't moving much."
It was true. Sheri simply hung from the cross. She had lost the strength to struggle. At some point during the night she had vomited over herself, but there wasn't much to come up and the little slime she had produced dried on her breasts and stomach.
Someone listened to her heart, and said it was still beating.
"Whip her! Get a reaction from her!"
"No... get the step stool. I want to fuck her!"
"Think she will even know what is going on?"
Someone pulled the step stool over and wriggled up into place and stuck his cock between Sheri's legs. It was hard to do because she was a little too high, and wasn't moist at all. He spit on his cock, and finally got some of it in.
Sheri roused, and cried. There were no tears, her body didn't have enough fluid, but she sobbed as her club-mate pushed his cock into her and pushed. It jerked her body around and caused more pain, and she did react, crying and pleading for him to stop.
He did stop, after he dumped a load of semen inside her. After he left, it quickly trickled down her left thigh then dried.
Sheri was covered with dried body fluid; shit, urine, vomit, saliva, sweat, semen. She stunk.
She had died. No one knew when. Her breathing had become so shallow it was almost invisible, and she had stopped moving after the one club member had fucked her.
Paul had hooked up with Kass, and they had fucked in sleeping bags during the night. He stood looking at Sheri's suspended, dead body hanging from the cross, his arm around Kass.
"She died well, though I would have hoped she could have lasted longer. 28 hours. Not a lot. I think that done properly, the crucified could last several days."
Kass nodded. "Perhaps next time."