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Review This Story || Author: Harry Berg

Torture The Widow

Chapter 38 Crucifixion

Chapter 38 – Crucifixion

Please take note! Adults Only Literature

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

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This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Copyright 2004


"Don't," I pleaded as one of the goons positioned the point of the iron spike in the palm of my hand. The sharpened iron indented the soft flesh of my hand. Four of them were holding me down as the one called Rokie raised the mallet to strike. I wanted to close my eyes but for some reason couldn't as the mallet head descended to strike the flat head of the spike driving it through my palm into the rough wood. Blood spurted from the wound splattering the goon's white hand. A white hot flash of excruciating agony shot upward through my arm expressing a pain so intense that it's impossible to describe.

I writhed against the goons firm hold on me as the rough iron penetrated my flesh passing between my second and third metacarpal bones wedging them aside to exit the back of my hand to find a home in the wood. A second blow from the mallet wedged the bones further apart creating an appalling agony. A third blow drove the spike's flat head flush against my palm. There was surprisingly little blood for something so devastating to flesh, bone, and blood.

One by one that had come for us that morning. Amy had been first. She went along quietly with the goons unknowing of her fate. We remaining three had to wait only a few minutes before we heard Amy's screams interspersed by the sounds of hammering.

"Jesus, what are they doing to her?" asked Marcy.

I had my suspicions but I had kept them to myself. They took a struggling and begging Marcy next.

Nancy and I waited only a few minutes before we heard Marcy scream, "Oh my God, no, please don't." That was followed by more cries then horrible screams punctuated the sounds of hammering.

It took four of the goons to peel Nancy off the furniture and drag her out of the room. When they finally managed to get her to standing, Rokie delivered a couple of punches to her mid section that took the fight out of her. I was left alone. It was quiet for several minutes then Nancy started up.

"God no, anything but that. You're ripping me apart," screamed Nancy.

Then the hammering and the screaming started. I tried putting my hands over my ears but her cries were too loud.

When they came for me I didn't resist. They marched me naked a few steps down the hall to one of the dungeons. Like I said, I had a pretty good idea what was going on. Still when I saw my three friends nailed to rough wooden crosses with bloody spikes in the center of their hands and feet I lost it. I tried to run but one of the goons kicked my feet out from under me before I had traveled even a quarter of the distance to the door.

My cross was lying flat on the ground. Someone had added a few wrinkles to the design that Christ was crucified on. They had nailed a wedge of wood about half way down and attached a super sized butt plug to the top of the wedge. It was the sort that gay men use to loosen their butts up for fist fucking. It was cone shaped with a pointed tip on the top slating outward to a diameter of six to eight inches. No doubt that was going up my ass if it could possibly fit. And I had a feeling the goons were going to make it fit.

The cross piece for the arms looked like what you would expect but there was a smaller cross piece at the bottom for my feet. My legs would be spread wide when they were nailed. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why they wanted my legs spread.

The goons coated the butt plug from a squeeze bottle of lubricant. I bent over reaching back to spread my butt cheeks so he could coat my brown eye. I figured cooperation would lessen the pain level. One of them did me the favor of squirting lube in my crack and working it with his stubby fingers. The goons seemed to be in a hurry. They quickly positioned me on my back holding my legs apart while they placed the pointed tip of the butt plug in the center of my anus and pulled my legs.

"Of fuck, that's too large," I protested as I felt my anal ring attempting to stretch around the cone. A goon applied more lube to the butt plug. With a hard shove accompanied by my cry of anguish, the largest circumference of the plug managed to get past my butt ring and close around the smaller neck of the plug. The pain emanating from my unnaturally stretched rectum was more than just discomfort. I felt like someone had shoved a watermelon up my ass.

"They've ruined my butthole. It'll never close," sobbed Marcy.

A goon responded to Marcy's outburst by grabbing a quirt off a nearby wall and delivering half dozen hard vicious blows to her tits. Her screams joined my own as Rokie drove a spike through my other hand.

Hands securely spiked and rectum filled to the bursting point with the butt plug, the goons lifted the cross off the floor to where I was upright, positioned the end over a round hole in the floor and allowed it to drop into the hole. When the bottom of the cross came to an abrupt halt against the masonry it sent a shock wave through my body that occasioned my loudest possible scream. Rokie fitted shims in the round hole and pounded them home to secure me upright.

I looked down to see one of them place a longer and thicker spike at the top of my ankle. Another goon had immobilized my legs with a leather strap. He pressed the point through my flesh and a small well of blood appeared surrounding the puncture. I screamed as the point scratched against my first and second metatarsal. The goon with the spike looked up at me and smiled then rubbed the point of the spike along the top of the metatarsal. There is a certain body of thought at the NYC Hellfire Club that bone scrapping is about the most painful torture ever devised. I've seen a Master insert a sterilized hatpin under the sub's skin and run the tip along the outside of a rib. There are very few subs that can endure more than a few seconds of this. Salome who has the reputation of being the ultimate painslut told me it was hell on earth and two minutes of feeling that sharp metal point scrap over the surface of a rib was an eternity of pain.

I only had to endure a few moments before Rokie gestured for the other goon to get on with it. I looked down to see Rokie raise his trusty wooden mallet then bring it down directly on the spike. White spots of pain blinded me as Rokie hammed. The sheer horror of the sensation of the sharp metal exiting the sole of my foot and entering the wood drove me to the brink of insanity.

I read once that while the Romans did not invent crucifixion they perfected it. Supposedly it is about as painful way to die as any ever devised by man. A Roman general crucified 3,000 of Spartacus' rebellious slaves along the Apian Way. That included women and children.

We four faced each other in a small square. Marcy was directly across from me maybe six feet. Her tits were covered in bleeding red stripes. Nancy and Amy were to my left and right.

Rokie performed a final inspection and then the goons packed up their tools and left.

"Do you think this is it for us, Rozz?" asked Amy once we were alone.

"I hope it is," said Nancy. "I can't take anymore I want to die."

"I'm not sure, Nancy. For some reason I think our friend from the embassy is going to show up for more of her demented entertainment," I said.

"Why don't the bitch just kill us and get it over with?" said Marcy. "If I ever get off this, I'll have to wear a diaper for the rest of my life."

Crucifixion is not something that dulls with time. The pain slowly grows. The four of us were left to suffer for God knows how long. Somehow it was worse that we could see each other suffer. Poor Marcy, the goon had really done a job on her boobs. They were slowly turning dark purple with yellow streaks.

After what felt like forever, the door opened and Cory Lewis, the Sheik, and Rokie came in. Cory was dressed like she had just arrived from an embassy party. She was wearing a short black cocktail dress. She looked very fetching. The Sheik was dressed in a tuxedo so he must have been at the same party.

"Hello ladies, are you enjoying your crucifixion?" said Cory breezily.

Rokie had brought a plastic chair for the Sheik. I watched as one of the world's richest men slipped his jacket off handing it to Rokie to hang on a wall hook. The Sheik removed his cummerbund, slipped his suspenders off his shoulders and dropped his trousers and boxer shorts. He snapped his fingers at Rokie and the No. 1 goon dropped to his knees and started giving the Sheik head. Rokie was a noisy cocksucker who gave the impression that blowing the Sheik was a great honor for a lowly goon.

Cory slipped out of her dress and underwear then turned toward the four of us.

You girls want to fuck?" asked Cory rubbing her big knockers that she had just freed from a bra.

What we girls wanted was to have the spikes removed followed by medical attention and serious painkillers.

"I've brought a fuck suit designed specifically for this occasion," said Cory opening a large briefcase she had brought and pulling out something that looked like a body suit with a lot of hardware attached.

I couldn't get a good look at it until she slipped into the garment and walked over to the Sheik.

"Zip me up, sweetie," said Cory and the Sheik obliged, as Rokie never missed a suck.

"Amy, you get to go first," said Cory turning toward Amy.

The appellation, 'fuck suit' was accurate. It was a skin tight body shut that hugged Cory from her neck to her ankles. There were clamps attached to the suit's breasts and crotch. What was truly terrifying was that there was an enormous spiny dong hanging down from her crotch that must have been a good fifteen inches long. It was covered in hard rubber bristles pointing both forward and backward. There was something odd about the shape of the rubber cock head. It seemed small for such a massive dong.

"I had this made when I was stationed at the Embassy in Berlin. The Walfen SS are responsible for the original design. It was used to rape Jewish girls. It's got a special feature. Here, I'll demonstrate," said Cory waving the big dick in the air. She reached back into the briefcase and came up with what I took to be a small bicycle pump. She connected the pump to a tube built into the suit and gave it a quick half dozen strokes. We watched in horror as the cock head grew much larger that the shaft. There were sharp spines covering the round surface. Cory touched a button on the pump and the cockhead deflated.

Cory squirted lube over the dong, parted Amy's labia, positioned the cock head at her hole and slowly eased in about six inches as poor little Amy writhed and screamed.

"Take it our. You're ripping me apart," begged Amy.

"Oh sweetie, you haven't felt anything yet. This is going to be the fuck of a lifetime for your Army sluts. Here, let me show you the other features," said Cory pulling out one of the metal clamps that were on retraction chords. Cory grabbed Amy's nipple, stretched it out to where Amy started whimpering then let the open jaws snap shut.

"Hurts like hell doesn't it," said Cory when Amy screamed in pain. Cory applied the other clamp then leaned back to stretch Amy's boobs out.

"This is where it gets tricky," said Cory as she reached down and took Amy's clit in her fingernails, extended it and let the jaws snap shut eliciting another of Amy's most heart felt screams.

"Now we're almost ready. I just have to jam my peter home," said Cory tilting her pelvis to drive the rubber cock as deep into Amy as she could force it.

"Now let's pump her up," said Cory giving the bicycle pump a half dozen strokes.

You could actually see Amy's hips widening. Blood started to seep down on to her thighs.

"My insides are being shredded," screamed Amy.

"I wouldn't doubt it. The last woman I used this on bled to death through her pussy," said Cory as she started to vigorously fuck Amy.

Cory fucked Amy until she fainted and no amount of slapping could wake her. Next she went to work on Nancy who didn't last as long as Amy. The dong was covered in blood when she pushed it up Marcy's snatch. Marcy was a tough one and she lasted a while before shock overcame her.

"Your turn, Rozz," said Cory pushing the end of that cock in my hole. "You're going to take the whole thing," she said slamming her crotch against mine until somehow she managed to drive that rubber dick to where I could feel her crotch tight against mine.

The clamps were nasty and set my tits and clit on fire but it was when she inflated that cock head I lost control and started shrieking.

"Oh, does it hurt your little pussy?" taunted Cory as she pulled that rubber dick back several inches then slammed it home. I could feel the sharp spines gouging out groves in my vagina and uterus. It seemed like Cory fucked me forever but eventually she ran out of steam and stopped. I was only semi-conscious when she ripped that punishment pecker out of my twat. I felt the flow of warm blood on my thighs.

Cory slipped off the fuck suit and walked naked over to Rokie and the Sheik. She bent over presenting her ass to the Sheik. She reached back spreading her cheeks with her hands. The Sheik stood up positioned his cock at her brown eyes and shoved it home. She jerked her clit as the Sheik fucked her ass. He blew his load pretty quick.

"Do you think they will live for the final round?" asked Cory walking between each of us. She cupped our chin raised our head and examined us.

"At least one or two will live. You know how much I enjoy it when we mutilate them," replied the Sheik as he put his cock back in his pants.

"We'll see. They look pretty fucked to death. Let's give them another three hours on the cross and if any of them survive, we can cut them up next week,' said Cory reaching back into her briefcase to extract a number of what I would call elastic bungee chords with razor sharp hooks on the end.

I recall Rokie clamping my nostrils shut. Then Cory reached in when I opened my mouth to breathe and grabbed the tip of my tongue in a hemostat. I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in both sides of my tongue. She had put a large fishhook through both sides of my tongue. My entire body was in a state of unbearable pain.

"Time for you to join the party, Nancy," said Cory as she grabbed the tip of Nancy's tongue in the hemostat, stretched it out, than hooked the end of my chord to the side of her tongue.

I had to give Cory points for S&M imagination. I'd never seen anything like her 'fuck suit' or the use of fishhooks to connect sensitive body parts of crucified women. And I was a woman who prided herself for having seen and experienced much of what the sado-masochistic world had to offer.

The other side of Nancy's tongue was connected to Marcy whose opposite side was hooked to Amy who in turn was connected back to me. Each of us wound up with our tongue being painfully pulled in two opposite directions. I kept swallowing my own blood from the slowly seeping wounds made by the fishhooks.

"You look like a musical instrument," said Cory strumming the chord between Marcy and me. It set all out tongue to twitching plus it hurt like all hell.

Cory selected one of the large chords.

"Ever do any fishing, Rozz?' asked Cory holding up the end of the chord that contained a fish hook large enough to catch a Great White shark with.

"A little, please don't," I muttered.

"I have with my father up on the Finger Lakes. Daddy loved to fish. Mommy hated it so she stayed home. Daddy took my sister, Charlene, and me every summer. We'd stay at this nice B&B on Lake Canandaigua. The Seneca Indians named it that. Mr. And Mrs. John Raines owned the place. After we had fished all day and had the most delicious meal, Daddy and the Raines would play games with Charlene and me in the basement of the residence. We'd all get naked and do naughty things. I loved them but Charlene, she was older than me, said they weren't right and told Mommy what Daddy and Raines did to us. Mommy just had a fit about it and forced Daddy to move away. I hated Mommy for making Daddy go and I hated Charlene for telling about it. I ran away to live with Daddy when I was old enough. He taught me lots of interesting new games," said Cory looking as if she was recalling happy memories from her childhood.

"You are one sick cunt," I managed to whisper in spite of my tongue being stretched two inches out of my mouth.

"Daddy taught me that you always hook a minnow underneath then bring the hook right up through the top," said Cory as she pushed the point through the underside of my breast. She used both hands to drive the point deep in the center of my boob and then up through the top exiting at the center of my nipple. The sight of a fishhook exiting the center of your bud is not pleasant.

"Right on the mark," said Cory pleased with her work.

She did the other breast then worked her way around the room to where we were interconnected. The bungee chords were strong and they pulled hard. It felt like my knocker was being ripped off my chest.

Cory interconnected our labia in the same fashion. She placed the hooks at the base of our labia major where they hurt like hell. When she was done, she and Rokie carefully climbed out of the center of the four us without disturbing the connections. I had just enough presence of mind left to take a good look at Marcy. She looked like something out of the Marquis de Sade's most vivid and appealing nightmare.

Her hands and feet were covered in blood as she hung forward pinned in place by the spikes. Her anus like mine was stretched around a butt plug that looked more like a novelty item than anything one would really use on a human being. Her tongue, breasts, and labia were obscenely stretched to one side. Drops of blood were slowly oozing out of her pussy onto thighs already coated crimson. We all looked the same if not worse.

Cory walked over to her brief case and removed two sets of wooden drumsticks. She handed the Sheik a set. That was when things got truly weird. They took up positions at each corner and began to strike the bungee chords with the wooden sticks. They would tap the top chord then the breast chord then the labia chord. It was both incredibly painful and bizarre. They began to sing some fucking Arab song as the got into a complicated rhythm. I could feel the hooks in my tongue starting to tear the flesh.

After a while, the singing ran its course and they stopped. Cory packed up her kit in the suitcase and slipped back in her clothes. She was about to leave when she had second thoughts and stepped back inside the square, not an easy thing to do in high heels. She got right in my face, grabbed the chords attached to my breasts and pulled them to get my attention. I was too far-gone to do anything other than moan loudly.

"I hope you live, Rozz. Because next week, I'm going to slowly mutilate you. I plan to start by cutting your tits off. Then I'll do your ears and nose, all your fingers and toes. You'll be begging me to kill you before I'm done," whispered Cory.

Then they were gone and we were left alone in the dark. I passed in and out of consciousness. At some point, I recall the lights going back on and someone cutting the barbed ends of the hooks off then removing them. I remember it was difficult to get my tongue back in my mouth. It hurt like hell when they pried the spikes out of my feet and hands. The worst part was when they pulled that butt plug out of my ass.

I have a vague remembrance of being carried back to my cell. Then I recall the doctor saying, "Their vital signs are good. They'll live. But I can't speak to their mental state. They may be mad as hatters."

Review This Story || Author: Harry Berg
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