The Ultimate
An errant gust of hot wind did little to blow away the smile of
self-satisfaction from the leader of the Ultimates face. The ancient Romans with
their fondness for innovative means of crucifixion would have approved of his
efforts, he thought as he contentedly gazed up at the two females tied to the
cross. He brushed away grit swirled by the gusting wind from his clean shaven
face and considered the many layers of innovation of which he could justly be
proud. Because they were, after all, his.
The arrival from the city of the select group of five, three men counting him
and two women members, at the chateau set in the wilderness began the process
that brought all of them to this arid hollow. During the weeks prior to their
coming the two hired hands at the chateau had fed the slave her strict diet as
they were ordered to do. To keep her form from looking too deflated as a result
of the skimpy rations, they had expertly performed a surgical implantation to
her tits. To further modify her body they had daily tightened a constricting
corset. He cared little what the two men did to satisfy themselves in other ways
with their charge until he and the others arrived. The extracurricular
activities of hired help mattered little to him. What did matter most was that
his intimate group of Ultimates arrived in time to enjoy themselves.
And enjoy they did.
He fondly recalled the shock on slave 6's face when she recognized her former
boss from the legal firm. Not merely his arrival, but to be announced as the
actual leader of the Ultimates. She was surprised. The beaten nude hanging
before him showed an entirely different side than the eager, fresh-from-college
job applicant he had interviewed in the rather sterile confines of his office
back in the city. All of that seemed another world away from present tableau.
Yes, the ancient Romans would indeed approve of his ingenuity. What they called
their patibulum or crossbeam, was supposed to be carried by the condemned to the
site of the crucifixion. His improvisation had taken an extra step. Instead of
something carried over her shoulders, he had shortened the length of a rusty
anchor chain from some scow, slipped her wrists through the outmost links, tied
a rawhide leash to a middle link, slipped it between her thighs, through her
clit ring, and pulled the other end toward him. In this way she was led by a
leash tugging at her clit, her back bent backward by the heft of the iron chain
pulling her wrists downward.
There ought to be some sort of laurel he so richly deserved. Pragmatically he
mused that perhaps this display before him was meant to be a form of reward in
and of itself. The sight alone of the boney ribs and taut flesh stretching over
artificial plumpness thrust skyward was enough to merit reward.
Renee winced as her hands were pulled from the iron and then tied around the
wood. At first the lessening of the strain on her back and arms was a relief
until reality abruptly returned. Her face was only inches from Irena's ankles.
This was all her fault, she sobbed as she knelt. Not only had she defied her
mistress and accepted the invitation from this group, but also had caused the
Ultimates to crucify her love. Scalding fat tears dripped down onto Irena's
feet.
The others watched as the slave kneeled and the most outspoken of his gender
amongst them reached behind the reddened buttocks, lifted the naked hips and
then buggered the female. The professional athlete flexed his overdeveloped
muscles. His cock, one of legendary penile proportions, proved to be every inch
of legends told and plunged without hesitation into the tied slave. Just before
ejaculating the man groaned and pulled his heavy tool out. Gobs of cum plopped
onto the small of the slave's back and slid down the crack.
The leader of the Ultimates stepped forward so that the kneeling slave could
hear as he handed the stout handle of the heavy leather strand to the
middle-aged Asian woman and spoke as if speaking to the slave but loud enough so
that all around could hear, "You have heard of whipped cream, haven't you?" He
passed the handle to the attractive Asian and said as he stepped back gesturing,
"Her name is slave 6, so she deserves at least that many, don't you think?" His
leer was returned as the whip was taken from him.
Drying sperm splattered and sprayed. Renee shouted in pain as the lash struck.
She abruptly kneeled upright. Her forehead hit wood. Fire burned between her
legs. The blow forced her face between Irena's calves. Wet cheeks flamed. Her
mind reeled. She gasped for air.
Without missing a beat, manicured nails tightened around the handle and the
Asian swung. Glossy black hair flew. Her aim was deliberate. This time a red
streak united the two shoulder blades as it traced across a pale back. A third
time she swung, but this time aimed lower. The slave was knocked to the side,
landing on a hip, one inflated breast smashed into the loose gravel.
"Wait," the leader of the Ultimates said and moved toward the heaving slave
sprawled out from the cross, "I think our little slave here needs a break."
Holding back the Asian woman, he knelt close to slave 6's head. Stroking her
lank strands of mane, he suddenly yanked her head up and back. "Here, dear, take
a sip because you're going to need it." The tiny cup in his hand pressed to her
shivering lips and slightly tilted, allowing the water it held to trickle into
her mouth. The slave coughed as she gagged and choked, and then laid her chin
back onto the earth and quietly sobbed.
As the side of her face lay on the ground, the leader of the Ultimates wiped the
fingers of his hand over the welt lining her middle back, smearing crimson from
tiny bubbles of blood. He wiped his bloodied fingers across the slave's lips and
said, "There's more, you know, from where that came from." Standing, he looked
back at the woman holding the whip and said, "You may continue".
Untying her wrists, two of the men lifted the prone slave to her feet. Feeling
hands lift her, Renee looked up at the nude figure of her mistress tied to the
cross above her. Her eyes pleaded for mercy only to be met by a harsh glare she
had never before known. From the corner of an eye Renee saw the other woman
Ultimate approach. Hands swiveled her so that the back of her head rested on
Irena's hip. Her torn back scraped against the upright. Her wrists were pulled
past Irena's legs and tied. An inner upper arm brushed Irena's knee.
"These are very pretty."
Renee watched almost detachedly as the woman whose face was mostly hidden by
designer sunglasses hefted her breasts. Her nipple rings were removed as each
breast was fondled. Renee was almost glad to have them removed.
"Oh, but what's this?"
The woman started to remove Renee's clit ring before she saw one of the marks
left by being led through a thicket of underbrush. The mark ran diagonally from
just below her lower rib across to end at one of her hipbones.
"We don't want anything to mar your pretty skin now, do we?" The woman traced
across the 8" line with her index finger before catching the start of a freshly
forming scab and dragging her nail across the crusty buildup.
Renee sucked in her already shrunken stomach in a futile attempt to avoid the
scraping motion. Rather than cry out at the hurt she merely looked skyward,
passed one of Irena's arms and winced. She could not prevent her heart from
pounding faster and more sweat from forming.
"Uhmmm," the woman with the glasses said as she lapped the fresh scratch with
her tongue. "You know," she said looking up at Renee's contorted features, "you
taste pretty good. A little salty though for my taste."
Renee opened her eyes as she heard the woman leave. As she turned to depart, two
of the Ultimate men seemed to follow her former boss's signal and they
approached.
Yes the ancient Romans would give him something for his demonstrated ingenuity,
the leader of the Ultimates thought as he looked up at the two women tied to the
crucifix. Approbation, at the very least. He smilingly looked around at his
select group. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.
He had ordered that the youngest, slave 6, be tied facing her mistress. Both
females were of similar height making the positioning all the more easier. Arms
over outstretched arms, wrists to wrists, the slave's enhanced tits mashed into
the other's natural ones so that pale flesh bulged above two sets of distended
ribs. The slave's legs had been angled out slightly so that they framed the
mistress's and her ankles tied not to the face of the upright, but rather, to
its sides. Tiny wooden platforms supported the downward-pointed feet on each
side of the cross.
Irena had been on the cross much too long. Something inside of her head snapped.
It could easily have been the heat and torment. Or maybe it was having the
sweaty slave mashed into her own beautiful body only to hear simpering apologies
blurted out by the stupid slut. Whatever the reason, Irena could take no more.
She summoned her strength and butted her head. With a growl her teeth flashed.
She bit at anything. A nose, cheek, lower lip were all targets for her to vent
her fury. Exhaustion finally made her stop. That, and realizing that her slave
wasn't biting back, but rather submissively taking all of Irena's anger.
Renee quaked. She was an idiot to attempt to apologize to Irena. Both of them
now hung, displayed for the enjoyment of the Ultimates. And it was all her
fault. At least, Irena's biting had stopped and she seemed to be calmer. She
could feel the other's heart beating as their chests pressed together. Renee
rested her chin atop her mistress's collarbone. She ignored the blood seeping
from her face. And the other pains.
The leader of the Ultimates spoke to the crucified and said, "slave 6 is to be
nailed to the cross. But we do have a problem."
"What's that?" The other man acted his lines as directed and played the dumb
one.
"Well," the leader said as he stroked his chin, "her wrists are now roped atop
those of her mistress. If we nail one, we shall have to nail the other."
The leader of the Ultimates was most pleased, though the incessant wailing of
the two females at this stage seemed a bit much. He eyed a climbing trail of
black ants industrially winding their way up the blood and urine soaked wood. He
gathered his small group together to begin their journey out of the rocky basin
and back toward their chateau. High above the late afternoon sky played host to
circling buzzards. Pleased though he was, it was time to head back.
Which one would succumb first was elementary he thought as the group gathered
and began their ascent up the gravel. It did not matter. What was important,
however, was that the Ultimates this time were heading off toward the beginnings
of a magnificent sunset. Yet another cause for celebration.
