Cemented

M+F+/f, consensual, S/M, hair,

Standard disclaimers: This is a work of fiction - no character
within is a depiction of any real person, living or dead. No
place or event described within exists outside of the writer's
imagination. Copyright retained by the author and this post
is for private use of the reader only. It is not to be published
in any form whatsoever, including being made available on BBSs,
or on Web Pages, without the express prior consent of author.
Any readers who are underage in the jurisdiction in which
they reside are asked to please pass by.

Although there is discussion of a snuff film in the story, this is NOT a snuff story. If you need to be reassured, go to the last part of the story and you will find the heroine riding off to new and better adventures. The author is well aware that some folks really don't like snuff (personally, I think it is a waste) and so I am going to extra lengths to appeal to your curiosity.

Cemented Chapter 6

This morning, when Valerie awakened, she noticed it was a bright, sunshiny day. After a luxurious stretch, she then pulled gently on her nipple rings. Of course, no surprise to Valerie, the nipples stiffened and stood proudly on her chest. And, yes, she knew there was already an increase to the moisture of her cunt. Her cunt was moist all the time these days. Yes, she had become quite a sexual animal. After glancing at her clock, she decided it was time to get up. There were no clothes laid out for her so she presumed the maid had just had not had a chance so far. She padded to the lavatory and did her morning toilet: shower, brush teeth, etc., and she shaved her head. She had become quite adept at doing her head herself but preferred the maid to do it.

When she exited the bathroom, she noticed there were still no clothes laid out. Shrugging, she strolled out of her room and down the stairs. Entering the dinning room, she noticed everyone else was dressed in jeans and shirts and work boots.

“C'mon in Valerie,” said one of the men. “We were wondering how you'd present yourself this morning. I win,” he chuckled. The others applauded as she moved towards the table and the empty chair.

“Just coffee today,” said another of the men. “You've got a big day ahead of you.”

So Valerie simply drank coffee while the others ate. Finishing her third cup, the others finally began to rise and move to the sitting room, so she followed.

When they were all seated with more coffee and some cigarettes, one of the men stood up and began: “Today, Valerie, you will be crucified.”

She blinked, drew deeply on her cigarette and then posed a question, “With ropes or nails?”

“With nails.”

“What if you hit an artery or a vein – won't I bleed to death. Oh, I see .... “

“No Valerie, this is not necessarily your exit. I will insert nails into your hands and feet under a fluoroscope. By using a small, local antiseptic, I can carefully insert them to miss everything. We'll then take you outside to where you'll then be nailed to your cross.”

Nobody said anything for a while, but then one of the women said, “You're wondering how your hands will be able to hold up your body. Two things will help. Your feet will be nailed to a platform set at a forty-five degree angle to the center piece and there will be a horn for your ass hole..”

Valerie nodded her understanding and stood up. “Where do we go now?”

The Group and Valerie moved to a room she had never seen. It was like a dispensary. At an indication, Valerie crawled up on the table. Quickly, she was secured with straps at wrists, upper arms, neck, chest above and below her tits, waist, and legs at thighs, and below knees. Her hands and feet were then injected. Within minutes, they were numb. The fluoroscope was moved to the table and her left hand was placed on a block of wood under the scope. She could see her hand as if in an x-ray. The one man picked up a nail, a spike really, about six inches long with a sharpened point. With no wasted motion, he began to push it into Valerie's left hand. A small amount of blood came up but watching the screen, he wiggled it back and forth, missing bones and other important parts of her hand, and then it came through the back of her hand. He pushed the nail so that about an inch was protruding. Even quicker, the right hand was done.

Then everything moved to her feet. Again, the fluoroscope was positioned and nails were run through both of her feet. The pain shots were just wearing off and Valerie became very aware of the nails in her hands and feet.

She was moved out doors on the table. She sure couldn't walk with those nails in her feet as they were. Instead of deep into the woods, this time they went to where there was a clearing overlooking a large lake or river – Valerie couldn't tell from her position on the table. Plus, the pain in her hands and feet was really bothering her. At length, the procession stopped and the straps holding Valerie to the table were undone. She was then carried to her cross, laying flat on the ground. When her back and head were aligned with the center post, her arms were stretched out. Then, with two men holding her, another used a hammer to hammer the nail in her right hand into the wood. Valerie screamed. It took three strokes of the hammer to bring the nail head to her hand. Her left hand was then stretched out and it was hammered home with just two strokes.

Valerie was amazed at the pain. It was like nothing she had ever before experienced. She was now in the form of a T on her cross. There were ropes at the outer ends of the cross bar and two men pulled on each one so that her upper body was raised up. At about a thirty degree angle, the lifting stopped and the two women stepped forward. Each grabbed a leg and pulled. This brought Valerie's body down the center post so that instead of her arms being straight out from her body, they were now in the shape of a modified Y. And, her feet touched wood. It took more strokes to nail her feet to the platform but there she was fully secured. The men on the ropes again began to hoist her until she was just about straight up. Somebody moved the base of her cross and she was lowered so that her cross was now in a hole. Dirt was shoveled in and then wedges were hammered in to hold her upright and straight. Each blow to a wedge reverberated through her body. The pain in her hands and feet was such that she had no idea if she could cope.

When the Group had finished crucifying her, they all stepped back and faced her. Her body was about three feet off the ground and then up. Her eyes were closed as she tried to deal with her situation. But when she opened them, there was nobody around. Weren't they going to watch her, she wondered. She managed to turn her head to her left, and saw her hand with the nail in it securing her to the cross beam. Looking the other way, she saw her right hand similarly attached. Although she couldn't see it, she knew the horn was in her ass hole, but she tried to keep from sitting on it. Her shoulders were a riot of pain. This position was unlike anything she had ever before experienced in in her life. She couldn't see her feet, but she sure as hell knew they were there.

Ultimately, she realized she was holding herself up by putting her weight on her arms and hands. She knew she couldn't hold herself forever so she allowed herself to slide down a bit. This put a new pinch on her nailed hands because it changed their angle slightly and the horn went deeper into her ass hole. But very quickly she realized this wouldn't work either – hanging downward made it increasingly more difficult to breathe. She recalled reading somewhere that death on a cross was asphyxiation. She could breathe in okay but expelling the carbon dioxide was difficult, so much so that each intake of air was less than the one before, and eventually, there would be no room to take in air. Realizing this, she heaved herself up by her hands. This helped her to expel all the carbon dioxide in her lungs, but it put pressure on her feet where all her weight pressed against the nails. So she let herself settle on the horn. Of course, this meant her breathing became labored again, and made the blood flow from her hands.

Given her agony, it was hard to tell how long she had been on the cross. It may have been fifteen minutes and it may have been an hour or more. But still she suffered. And as the pain clouded her brain, she wasn't able to tell that she was building to a tremendous orgasm. When it came, she withered on her cross and jerked and shook her head, and it went on and on. And, as the orgasm passed, the pain came back. She marveled that she was able to feel any sexual excitement at all, to say nothing of a cum, and a cum of magnificent proportions at that.

When her eyes were able to focus, she noticed that her maid was standing in front of her, looking up at her.

With a smile on her face, “I was going to ask you how you are doing up there, but I just saw you. Is it really as good as that.”

Valerie blinked, and then said in reply, “Good? My god, the pain is incredible, but the cum was in a class by itself. I wouldn't want to do this just to get a cum, because I really do hurt, it even hurts to speak to you, but with cums like that I could be persuaded to do it again. Only I don't know how long I'll be here. It's hard to breathe, you know.”

“No, I didn't know, “ the maid replied. “Why is that?”

Valerie took a long time to answer during which she heaved herself up to expel the carbon dioxide and then settled down again. “See what I mean?” she asked.

Nodding, the maid said, “I think so. It really is suffocating, isn't it?”

“How about the nails? Do you feel them all the time?”

Again, Valerie took her time replying, and finally said, “No, not all the time. My hands and feet are on fire all the time but when I pull myself up, I can feel the nails in my feet, and then when I slide back down I can feel the nails in my hands.”

“How long have I been up here?”

“I'm not supposed to tell.”

“Huh, why is that?”

“So you can't make an approximation of time. If I told you that you were up there an hour, you would have a reference.”

“Well,” argued Valerie, “what's wrong with that?”

“How long do you think you've been on your cross?”

Valerie replied, “I have no fucking idea. That's what I want to know.”

“Tsk, tsk, it's not a good idea to be cross with those on the ground while you are on the cross. Would you like a drink?”

Pause, then “Yes, please.”

“Water or wine?”

“Both please.”

The maid chuckled but pushed a forked stick up in which a plastic tube was held. She put in front of Valerie's mouth and then twisted a nob on another plastic tube. Water flowed into Valerie's mouth and she gulped it down. Finally, after a long drink, she pulled her mouth off the tube and the water sprayed her face. The maid shut off the water and twisted another nob, and wine flowed which Valerie captured immediately.

The maid smiled, and then she turned away and left.

Valerie called after her, “Wait. Don't go. Please .... “

And so Valerie was alone again, nailed to her cross. The wine was giving her a slight buzz, but she knew she'd have to pee soon. And so she just let go, feeling it flowing out of her slit and onto her cross. Of course, she couldn't wipe, but she felt better nonetheless.

And then she heard the bees – oh, shit she thought, what can I do about them. Nothing. One of the bees found the blood on her left hand and began creeping around. It took all of Valerie's will not to try to pull her hand back. She felt other bees on her right hand and on her feet. And then, probably because of the wetness, she felt a couple bees, at least, on her shaven and ringed pussy. And then she realized she would have to pull herself up to breathe. When she did, the bees on her feet and hands stayed with her, but the bees at her cunt flew off but not before one of them stung her in indignation. She howled but could do nothing for the burning sensation. And so she allowed herself to slide down again, and she went on suffering. And as soon as she thought ‘suffering', boom, another cum. What a perverse way for her body to behave: a cum when she was suffering the most.

Time passed. She knew she had been on her cross for a long while because the sun was moving around the sky. Where it was at her back when she was put up, it was now on her front. And then she noticed a boat on the body of water. Could they see her, she wondered. If they could, what would they do? She could do nothing to hide herself, of course. What would she say if they came to her? She could not tell strangers that she was suffering fatal punishments for a film or that eventually she would die.

And then she noticed the boat had turned toward shore. And, boom, another cum.

The boat came closer and eventually grounded on the shore and the people got out – and she saw it was the Group. In quick order, they came to her, lowered her cross, and then removed her from it. The nails came out so easily she wondered if she couldn't have pulled them out herself. The wounds on her hands were clean. Would they heal? Anyhow, she hadn't died, again, so she would face at least one more ordeal.

Should you wish to comment upon my story, I can be reached by
E-mail at: belted1@verizon.net

Comments and criticism are welcome.