Saturday night F. took me out for dinner and dancing. We were just another couple in love at a fancy restaurant. I did not think much of it, as he has a penchant for celebrating for absolutely no reason other than being who he is. Later, after leaving the club he asked me to drive. I thought it strange because he had not drank any alcohol, but I said yes and took his car keys. As I waited for a gap in traffic to get out of the parking lot he whispered in my ear:

"Do you want to be crucified tonight?"

I almost died upon hearing his words. Tears sprung to my eyes. He knew very well that I would say yes, terror stricken as I was. He also knew how much it would turn me on to drive to my own execution. Wordlessly, I nodded yes. He told me to drive to the home of a couple friend of ours are also a Dominants: Alain and Gennia. It was a short drive (about two Km) but it took a while to get there as I had to pull over twice to collect myself. F was his usual tender, compasionate self as is always the case before he makes me scream and never asked me if I wanted to back out.

About 2:30 in the morning, when I finally parked in Alain and Gennia's driveway F. had to carry me out of the car and into their house. I was allowed to go to the bathroom and then I was locked naked in their basement, which was completely bare save for a clock on the wall, two whips and several coils of rope hanging from nails on the wall and, laying on the floor, my cross.

Knowing F. I knew I would have time to get even more scared, as I examined the torture apparatus, how pulleys would pull it upright and into a hook in the ceiling and a socket on the floor; how ringbolts had been affixed at the places my wrists and ankles would be attached. Time to run my hands through the leather strands of those floggers, time to imagine the welts they would rise on my skin and how it would hurt to lay, freshly whipped, onto that piece of harsh, unfinished wood. I also knew that they would only come back in the morning, just when I would be the most tired. I wanted so much to masturbate, but I knew if I did things would feel worse. I did not even try to sleep. I laid on the floor with my arms around the cross and I prayed for strength.

Alain, Gennia and F. came back four hours later. Wordlessly the men picked me up from the floor and attached my wrists to a chain hanging from the hook in the ceiling. The flogging was brutal. All three of them took turns. I bit my tongue as long as I could and then I just screamed. And then I was there. That amazing place where the pain just melts my mind and turns my insides to soup. All I was missing was for F. to touch me, kiss me, just to feel anything other than the slashes of leather and the fire of my sweat burning the pinprick cuts on my skin. I would have come, I am sure. But it was not to be.

Somehow I made it through the flogging without fainting, although I was a bit dizzy, either from the endorphine high or from fear of what was coming next. They took me down from the hook and dragged me to my cross. Ropes were used to firmly attach my wrists and ankles to the wood.

Then, the first unplanned action of the day: Both men sat down, stradling my arms, their backs to each other. Gennia waited until I looked at her and then proceded to open a bag she carried and gave each man a thin, deadly looking, five inch nail!

I screamed in terror: "Noooo! F. You promised! Nooooo!"

He looked at me with his "You know you can trust me" look and did not say a word. I have never felt so betrayed, horrified, alone and small in my life. I continued to scream as hammers were given to each man. My body contorted as much as it could while I continued to scream and waited for them to do what I was sure would kill me.

When the blows came, the pain took away my voice. Soundlessly I screamed as bursts of electric agony pierced my wrists. I could not even see. A sheet of white pain covered my eyes. I still do not know why I did not faint. I do not even remember them nailing my ankles.

By the time my screams became mere whimpers they were pulling the cross upright. I felt feverish and could not bring myself up to even look at my pierced wrists. My eyes screwed shut I waited for the painful jolt of my bodyweight finally hanging from the nails. Suddenly, the cross was upright and I felt not the flesh ripping but a numb, constricting sensation where the nails had to be.

I opened my eyes and felt like an idiot. I was not nailed! What Alain and F. had hammered into the wood were wooden cuffs exactly shaped like my wrists. Wires hung from each one of them. F. was there looking at me as if saying "you really think I would break a promise?" In his hand was a hammer with insulation around the handle and wire leading to a tiny copper plate on its head. It dawned then on me that there must be a metal plate on the inside of each cuff. So each time the hammer struck the nails going through pre-drilled holes in the cuffs a circuit would close and current would shoot through my wrist, making me feel as if I was being nailed. There were even two nails holding each cuff in place!

I did hang on that nail for almost two hours. And it is difficult to breathe when hanging from the wrists. Wearing those perfectly shaped cuffs helped a lot. I know now I was never in danger, not even from the low amperage electric shocks, which probably felt worse due to my mental state. And to quote GaryWilcox I did feel awfully good on my cross!

Of all the things F. did to me while I was crucified (and there were many) and even better than that final, bone-liquefying orgasm, the one I will treasure the most was when he climbed on a stepladder, pushed my sweat-soaked hair away of my face, kissed me tenderly and said:

"My Lady Nikka, will you marry me?"

Of course I could not take the ring. He had to put it on me. Talk about dreams come true!