Chapter 9
The guards have come to the realization that you enjoy most of the abuse they've been heaping on you. That led them to start searching out more and more depraved ways to torture and use you, in hope of finding your breaking point.
One of them stumbled across the work of Dolcett on the internet and wondered if they could do it to you.
As much as the idea of impaling you on a spit and roasting you alive sounded like fun they decided they have to keep you alive. Too much paperwork if you die. And besides they're having far too much fun torturing you to have it end so soon.
Instead, they decide that they are going to impale you in the spit and roast you but only for half an hour.
There's a company picnic coming up for the 4th of July so it's the perfect time to barbecue you.
The picnic is being held in a clearing in the woods. It's warm and sunny and all the guards are relaxed, drinking, and happy. It would be a wholesome scene except for the naked sissy slut bound to the trees at the edge of the clearing. Standing, spread eagled, wrists and ankles tied to two trees.
The fire pit has been lit. They're just waiting for the fire to burn down and the coals to get hot.
While you're waiting to be "cooked" the warm summer breezes caress your naked, slutty, thicc body. Your nipples have grown hard, and your pathetic little cock is starting to stir too.
As the fire starts to die down your untied and led to the picnic table and told to climb up onto it. On your hands and knees, ass in the air, they start to prepare you for roasting.
Your hair is soaked and tied up. Herbs and onions are shoved into your boipussy. For flavour. An apple is pushed into your mouth. Not so much for flavour but only to make you look a like a roasting piglet.
They make you lay flat on the table and a large, round, stake is laid the length of your body. Ropes soon secure you to it. A wooden Frame is laid across your shoulders and you're soon bound to it as well. Lastly, a thick, long wooden stake is pushed deep into your gaping cunt and attached to the spit.
The entire time they're preparing you the guards talk about you in the 3rd person. They refer to you as "her" sometimes, but usually, "it".
Two burly guards grab each end of the spit and hoist you off the table. It's uncomfortable, but not quite painful. More than anything it's humiliating. You're a piece of meat, yet again, for their amusement. This time quite literally.
The heat hits you immediately when they put the spit in its rack. A small motor is going to rotate you over the fire, just like a fucking animal to be consumed.
It doesn't take long for the heat to start making you dizzy and light headed. It's also turning you on.
The heat licking at your useless cock with each rotation. The guards laughing at you and enjoying the spectacle.
After a few minutes they break out the barbecue sauce and start pouring it all over your limp body. Covering you, head to toe in sticky sweet sauce. A bottle gets shoved up your ass and the sauce pours in to mix with the other ingredients already inside you.
You've lost track of time. You're hoping you don't have to endure too much more. You can feel your cock and balls starting to singe. Your tits are glowing hot. The pain is becoming almost too much to take. Your screams and pleading are muffled by the apple in your mouth. Not that any of them would take pity and offer you relief.
The last thing you remember hearing, before you passed out, is one of them saying "Three more minutes and then we'll take the meat off the fire."
You're awakened by a bucket of cold water being thrown on you. Every inch of your body feels like it's been sunburnt. To make matters worse you're covered in sticky sweet barbecue sauce.
The guards want to get you cleaned up a little before the next stage of the festivities bit there's no hose to spray you down with. Then a brilliant idea emerges.
You're tossed on the ground, still tied to the spit, and the four dogs that have been hanging around are called over. They quickly begin licking the sticky sweet sauce off of you. Their rough tongues dragging across your burnt body is agonizing. Because you're a sick fuck, you like it. You start to moan and wiggle around to give the dogs access to more of you. Especially your pathetic little cock.
A couple of the guards notice what you're doing and start to laugh. They point out to everyone that you're fucking enjoying it. Everyone agrees that you're the most depraved, filthy, amoral, piece of fuck meat they've ever seen. They're excited about it. It means they can do anything to you. No matter how depraved, degrading, disgusting, violent, or taboo.
While they are chatting about what to do next, one of the dogs lifts his leg and starts pissing on you. The hot stream feels scalding on your burnt skin. It splashes across your stomach and chest. Some of it gets up around your neck and you open your mouth, hoping to be able to drink some of it to relieve your incredible thirst.
Everyone has gone silent, watching in amazement. When the second dog starts pissing on your chest you wiggle around to take it in the face. The hot dog piss in your mouth giving you relief from the thirst and a fantastic thrill at being able to be so fucking filthy. It's at that moment that the last 2 dogs start pissing all over your hard, but pathetic, cock. Your moans of pleasure leave the guards, and their wives, laughing and cheering.
Because it's the 4th of July the guards have brought along a bunch of flags, firecrackers and decorations to celebrate the day.
The dogs have licked you clean and lost interest in pissing on you so everyone is looking for a new amusement.
It's time to do some decorating.
You're untied from the spit and another bucket of ice cold water is thrown on your limp body. As you lay there, dazed, aroused, humiliated, you wonder what fucked up thing they could possibly have in mind.
A kick to the ribs gets you on your back. A couple more kicks and you're spread eagle in the grass.
One of the wives has brought a bunch of small flags. The paper ones with a wooden stick. She wants to shove them in your piss hole. The only problem is you've gone limp. It would be much easier if your clit was hard. It only takes her a moment to figure out how to get you hard again. She drops her panties, lifts her dress, squats over your face and starts to piss. It works like a charm. You can't help yourself. You open your slut mouth and drink it all down as quickly as you can. The shame and humiliation does what it was intended to do. Your useless cock is nice and hard again.
With her cunt still firmly pressed to your face she begins sliding the stick of the flag down into your cock. You're so embarrassed and ashamed at how much you're loving this treatment.
She manages to push two more flags into your pisshole. As she hops off your face she tells you to get the fuck up. You're exhausted and hesitant. A quick kick in the head and a slap across the face gets your moving. Your struggle to your feet.
She instructs you to show everyone how patriotic you are and to start waving the flags. Your efforts aren't even close to what she wants and she kicks you in the ass, over and over, making you stumble around, and making your faggot clit wiggle. The laughter from the crowd is so fucking humiliating and you wonder what the fuck is wrong with you that you love it.
That's when someone suggests that they should tun you into a proper flag pole.
Chapter 10

Having grown tired of watching your futile attempts to wave the little flags jammed in your pisshole the wives have decided to turn you into a “proper” flag pole.

A shovel is tossed at your feet and you’re ordered to start digging. They want a hole two feet deep and 3 feet wide. And you had better hurry the fuck up. Your efforts are decent to being but because of all the abuse you’ve endured so far today you start to tire and slow down. A crack of the whip then the sting as it bites into your ass. You dig faster. Another crack and another stripe across your sissy ass. You don’t speed up digging but your clit starts to involuntarily grow. This prompts laughter and ridicule from the guards, and particularly, the women. They can’t believe just how much of a pathetic, pain and abuse craving, sissy slut you really are.

Before too long the hole is complete. She shoves you to your knees at the edge of the hole, facing it. Turning to one of the other wives she says, “Jenn, bring the big flag and pole over here. We’re going to do this up right. Real patriotic.” She shoves you forward, so that you fall into the hole. Because of the size of the hole only your upper body fits. Your ass is in the air, sticking straight up. Completely gaping and exposed.

As she hands over the flagpole Jenn says, “I don’t think it’s going to fit. It’s way to big.” It’s not going to matter if it’s too big or not. One way or another it’s going in your cunt. Lubed, dry. No one cares.

The fat, wooden, flag pole is pushed up against the entrance to your cunt and pressure is slowly applied. It’s starting to work its way in. You do your best to relax and push out, to get the pole in your cunt without too much pain and tearing. It helps, but there is still so much of the huge pole to go.

She starts to lose patience with the progress and starts shoving harder and harder. Your cries for her to please stop are, obviously, ignored and you’re told to shut the fuck up and take it. You’re reminded that you’re only there to entertain them. Your pain doesn’t matter. Besides, she says, your hard clit says you’re enjoying it. She makes you admit you like it. You have to yell, loudly, for everyone to hear, that you like having the flag pole shoved up your ass.

Jenn starts to help. Between the two of them they’re able to force the pole deep into your cunt. Judging by how full you feel, you think there’s about two feet of hard wood up inside you. You’re ashamed of yourself for being proud of how much you can take.

Once it’s firmly in place a flag is attached to pole. It gently unfurls in the breeze. The wind playing with the cloth makes the pole move around in your cunt, pushing it from side to side. It feels like the wind is fucking you.

Your told that you cannot let the flag fall. It’s disrespectful. If it falls you’ll be beaten unconscious.
The group goes back to drinking, snacking and playing games, leaving you there. An object to amuse them.
After about half an hour you notice the dogs are sniffing around you, curious as to why you’re there. Realizing you’re not moving much they conclude you’re not a person and start pissing on you, like they would any tree, bush or shrub. At first they piss on your ass, because the flag pole is a natural place for them to piss. Eventually though they piss on your shoulders, back and face. Because you’re in the hole it’s really convenient for them to piss all over you.
Everyone sees it happening but there’s no way they’re going to stop it. It’s way too funny. Hell, not only are they not going to stop it, they’re going to join in. For the next hour you endure an almost non-stop rain of piss. All over your back and ass, all over the back of your head. In your face. So much in your face. Each time someone pisses in your face you open your mouth and drink in as much as you’re able. You try to be subtle about it so they don’t see you drinking it but eventually you’re caught. It’s decided that if you’re going to do that you might was well be a urinal for them for the rest of the evening. From that point on all of the piss, and theres so much because of all the beer drinking, is aimed at your mouth.
The sun is starting to fade from the sky. The coming darkness signals the next stage of the days festivities. The fireworks display is going to be amazing this year!

Today I was doing deliveries.

New route I'm assigned in a student area. Fuck me. Every woman between 18-22.

All answering the door in hot pants. One girl in a bra and joggers. So fucking hot. It was fucking torture.

my dear confession board, i have something new to confess to. at work, our new director has begun coming onto my co-worker and closest friend. she's younger than me, petite, red-headed. awkward, but a sweet, sheltered woman in her twenties. so much so, i was the one who had instructed her on how to masturbate after realizing she never had before. she's a virgin, through and through. i've never experimented with her or anything, but i've seen her while changing clothes, i know her little breasts have the prettiest pillowy pink nipples i've ever seen, and i know when she does masturbate, she can and will bring herself to orgasm 4-8 times in a row, every. single. time, by hand, until she's worn out and almost sick with pleasure. i was so turned on hearing that she essentially tortures herself with her own orgasms.

the other day after a meeting, our director was chatting with the two of us and i made a comment, "some people just need a rough hand" when it came to business. "we all have our kinks, don't we?" he replied, and looked her over as he said so. she was uncomfortable, i could tell. he has a good 30 years on her, has a wife and kids. he's made comments before too. i've even caught him watching her and making sure to use the restroom nearest her office.

my confession is, i can't stop thinking about it all. i've spent all day horny and while i never want anything bad happening to her, i can't help but to fantasize about what would happen if he pushed past her barriers with that rough hand and took her, fucking her over her desk, forcing her to orgasm again and again, pulling at those soft looking nipples, all while i watch at the door and touch myself. mmm, might have to break out the vibrator again now. if anyone wants to talk dirty, my inbox is open. ;)

So I'm rather enthusiastic at making comments on images, every few days logging in to enjoy the new uploads & dish out my two cents on them. I get pretty detailed & creative, however never going to the super degrading/death/gore/torture related comments & the like, as I don't even personally find those appealing. I do have a decent amount of uploads myself but I enjoy commenting more on others than showcasing my own content.

So earlier today I was on & made around 6-7 new comments to some of today's popular images....
I've just logged in again tonight & have noticed ALL COMMENTS that I have ever made o this site have been deleted.

None from today, last week, last month, last year, & so on.

They are all gone & I've even got some pm's from members asking as to what happened to my comments on their uploads. Is this some sort of bug? Because the only evidence that remains of some of my comments is in my shoutbox (& those are just today's comments that I made), despite they actually are no long exist on any actual image upload chat box.

Rather a big bummer really because of the thought/creativity that I generally put into my comments.
So yeah does anyone have a clue? Thanks.

Rape! Torture! Interrogation! Snuff! Gore! Terrible things happening to women in our fantasies. For instance, women we know (wives, exes, bosses etc.) edited into perilous, painful, agonising or deadly situations. If it‘s not possible in real life, we can at least make those fantasies come true in art (photo manipulations, drawings, stories). Please do share your your darkest fantasies here, I might create some manips on request.
come and join my new group Violent Fantasies! 

I am a goddess and a mistress. I love torturing men and humiliate and offend them and spend their money. I am here because I am looking for new people to dominate. I am a serious person and I try as many serious people. I do not want wasters or people who like talking without proving the facts.You can catch my attention only with a tribute otherwise do not even try.Are you ready to let yourself be enchanted and to give all your time and money to me?

Jamilla’s crucifixion

Jamilla was already awake when the sunlight entered her cell. After the Romans had captured her a week ago at the villa of her master, they had locked her up in there. They had stripped her and tied her up tightly, her hands behind her back, she was forced to sit here in this dark cell. She have had a lot of time to think about what has happened, and, more important, the things to come. At first she had been scared to death by the thought of being crucified, but right now she had found peace with it. Jamilla knew what she had done, and she also knew that she deserved nothing better. There was no doubt that, if she was to be killed, it would happen out there for every one to see. She was just to beautiful to let her die in here. After all she was the most beautiful girl in and around the city, In fact the thought of starving in here scared her even more than a public humiliation. Being tied up all the time and at least raped and tortured, imagine taht! No, no, all well considered, crucifixion was the best she could hope for. At least her pain would be over in a few days instead of years. She didn’t dare to think that the soldiers wouldn’t come for her.

But then the door opened and a couple of men gave entered her cell and removed the ropes from her hands and feet. Jamilla felt some sort of relief when she left the cell. They would not let her starve. Thus far she had been very lucky. It was only now that she realized that nobody had abused her until now. She wasn’t raped, she hadn’t been whipped. The fact of being nude don’t scare her, as a slave girl she has experienced this form of humilation many times, it was usual for the female to walk nude trough the city up tot he crucifixion side, while the men are allowed to wear a loincloth.

As they came out of the dark hallways into the inner yard of the camp, Jamilla spotted a long, thin, wooden cross lying on the ground. “Pick it up!” one of the soldiers said. Jamilla walked towards the cross and lifted it on her shoulder. There was no use in trying to resist, which would only make it worse for her. Two soldiers came standing next to her and one of them hung a wooden plate around her neck with her name, her age and her crime carved in it. Jamilla expected them to push her forward in to the streets of the city, but they didn’t. Both of the soldiers were looking at a little door behind them. As Jamilla looked at it as well, she saw an other soldier coming out with a hammer, a ladder and a basket with nails. Long heavy spikes…

“So it ’s going to be a full nailing” Jamilla said to herself. Until now she had hoped that they would only use ropes or at least only nail her hands, but as she could count more than two nails, she knew she wouldn’t be that lucky. The soldier loaded the gear on a donkey and the other two gave Jamilla a gentile push on her shoulder. “Let’s go.” They said and the campgates opened.

Jamilla carried her cross through the narrow streets of the city. It wasn’t very heavy but despite the early hour the sun was already shining hot. As she came closer to the crucifixion site, more and more people were watching and following her, yelling things at her. She noted the views of the men, on her slim body, her well-shaped breasts, with the long nipples. Her master has pierced them years ago, she has to wear rings there, and the nipples has grown considerably. Except her long hair, her body has been shaved completely, even if the pubic hair has started to grow back, her crotch is visible for everyone.

“Look at you, you stupid basterds,” Jamilla said to herself “ shouldn’t you be working? No you just want to see me suffer, you want to hear me scream on the cross, you want to see the extreme fear in my eyes when they nail me to it. Well screw you! You think I’m afraid but I’m not, you think I’ll beg them for mercy, beg them not to nail my feet, but you’re wrong, wrong, wrong! I won’t. In fact I’ll show you that it doesn’t scare me, I’ll show you how a proud girl faces her destiny!”

As she took the last turn to the marketplace, Jamilla felt this strange sensation in her underbelly. She knew she was walking her last few steps ever. On the market place, one of the soldiers gave the order to stop right in the middle of the square. She let her cross slip to the ground, took a few steps back and looked at the people that came to see her humiliation. One soldier held a hand on her shoulder and took back the wooden plate as the other one unpacked the gear. The third one began to declare her verdict and why she deserved it. During that time Jamilla realized that the strange feeling in her underbelly wasn’t fear as she thought it was, but pleasure. Her crotch has become wet, she noticed it. Every single person on the square wanted to see her young, nude body exposed on the cross. She knew she turned on every man that came to see her today, but none of them would ever have her. She would remain an unreachable ideal forever. She knew she could give them a spectacle they would never forget, that would make every other women look like durt.

Right now Jamilla realized that her time had come. The third soldier reached the end of his speech.

Jamilla knew what she had to do, she would show the crowd she was not afraid. Slowly she walked towards the cross, looking at the soldiers. Then she turned around, looked at he crowd and went lying down on her cross. Before one of the soldiers could grab her, she placed both of her wrists on the crossbeam, waiting for the nails.

The soldier that was going to nail her held back his two accompagnons. “No, no, don’t grab her. I want to see if she really can take this.” Jamilla looked at him as he put the first heavy spike right on top of her wrist. There was no one holding her wrists in place, yet she did not pulled them away, when the soldier raised his hammer for the first blow. Jamilla looked closely as the point of the first nail was driven into her wrist. “Aagh!” The pain was more than unbearable, it didn’t just stay in her wrist. Like water spilled on a flat stone, the pain started to run in various directions, all through her body. Yet the nail had only cut a few muscles and flesh. Right now he was only pushing on her wristbones, slightly driving them apart. As much as Jamilla was suffering, she couldn’t move her arms. She could only watch how the hammer came down a second time. This time the nail crushed her wristbones. Jamilla could feel the couldnes of the steel against her bones. Again she could not hold back a short scream. The pain had now turned into a supernatural form of agony. One of the soldiers who was standing next to the cross, noticed how Jamilla was rubbing her beautiful bare feet over the sand in a useless attempt to lighten the pain. Although the nail hadn’t reached the beam yet, she managed to keep her tortured wrist in place. Her most beautiful body was already covered with sweat when the hammer came down for the third time. Finally the nail came out of her wrist again and made his first contact with the crossbeam. Jamilla felt a bit relieved because she thought the wrist part was over. Once the nail was through, it would be easier to bare. But she was wrong. The hardness of the wood made it very hard to finish the job. The executioner needed six more blows to get her wrist fully nailed to the beam, every blow causing Jamilla more and more pain in addition to the already unbearable agony…

At the first blow, Jamilla had pulled back her second wrist. “Aagh!” A short scream escaped her mouth every time the nail went deeper. Finally the last blow was given and the executioner stood up. Shortly he admired his work, then he walked over to the other side of the beam to nail her other wrist. Jamilla didn’t know how she did it, but she had managed not to cry. Although only one of the four nails was in place, she was already covered with sweat. She looked at her unnailed wrist once more, then she placed it on the crossbeam as she saw the executioner approached with the second nail. He looked at her beautiful young face while he went across her wrist with his fingers to locate the bones. When he found the right spot, he place the nail on it, held his hammer high up in the sky. Then he waited for a moment to see if Jamilla really wouldn’t pull down her arm now that she knew what it felt like to have one nailed wrist. Then he started his horrible job.

Jamilla thought she knew what she had to expect, but no one could ever get used to a sudden explosion of pure pain like that. Again her short screams filled the air, again her beautiful bare feet rubbed against the sand, but yet the agony seemed like at least a thousand times worse. Again she felt how the nail crushed some of her bones and drove others apart. It was in this pure sensation of nothing-but-absolute-agony- that Jamilla realized something strange. With every blow she screamed her little “AaAgh’s” as a message to every one on the square that she couldn’t take it any more. But now she realized, as her pain reached a new, horrible peak with every other blow that she wanted more. Though the agony made it quite impossible to keep her wrist in place, as long as the nail hadn’t pinned it to the wood, Jamilla realized she was able to do so, because she loved it. From this moment one, she could kill and love the executioner for what he was doing to her at the same time. She hated and admired him because he was able of hurting her like this. Though her agony reached unknown hights with every blow, she couldn’t wait for the next one. She watched closely how the nail disappeared deeper into her wrist and into the wood. When the executioner stood up after the nailing, Jamilla felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. Her body was under tension, shivering, excited, despite the heat her nipples remain hard all the time, and she notes that her juice has started to leak.

Jamilla looked at her beautiful nude body as the soldiers made preparations to pull up the cross. With her arms spread out like this above her head and her legs a bit opened to feel the sand under her feet for the last time, both her beautiful small breasts with their long and hard nipples and shaven pubic were exposed to the crowd. Yet Jamilla felt no shame, she felt only pain and a deep desire for more pain. Two soldiers were tying ropes to both ends of the crossbeam while the third one was placing some small pieces of wood at the bottom of the longpole so that the cross wouldn’t slide over the sand when they tried to raise it. Then they attached the ropes to their donkey as well. Then the executioner kneeled down at Jamilla’s feet. He grabbed them by the ankles and measured the length of her legs. He placed her feet on the longpole, right next to each other, so that her legs were slightly bent. He looked at it, changed the pose a bit, released her feet and carved a little bit of wood out of the pole, where he wanted her feet to be when he nailed them. Jamilla had observed his actions very well. For a moment she thought he was going to nail her feet before they raised the cross. She had loved the feeling of his hand around her feet. The two soldiers made the donkey pull up the cross while the executioner made sure the longpole would slip into the hole that was dug for it. As they raised her cross and her feet left the ground for the last time, Jamilla felt how her weight was no longer carried by the thin longpole but only by the two spikes that pierced her wrists. She had to scream. Little yelps of both extreme agony and pleasure escaped her mouth while the donkey was raising her cross. As her cross was almost in a complete vertical position, Jamilla spotted the carve made by the executioner to indicate the intended position of her feet. While the soldiers were making sure the cross wouldn’t fall back if they cut the ropes, Jamilla tried out her final footpose. With her feet against the longpole and her legs opened widely because of the roundness of the longole, she decided that it was both a humiliating and an exciting pose. Jamilla looked at her elegant ankles and her adorable toes. Soon her most beautiful feet would be nailed. To feel once more the pain of really hanging on a cross, she moved her legs away from the longpole, so that they were just hanging on either side of it. Now the executioner placed his ladder against the cross and climbed up to fulfill his duty.

As the executioner reached the final step of the ladder, Jamilla lowered her left foot and placed it right on the spot the executioner wanted it to be. He put the nail right on the most central spot of her foot, slightly adapted its pose so that the toes were really pointing towards the ground. Then he began the nailing. Once again Jamilla experienced a wave of fresh agony running through her body. Again she felt how the nail pushed against the bones of her foot and crushed them with the second blow. Again she let out her little yells every time the nail went a bit deeper. Even when the nail entered the wood after the third blow, she didn’t dare to put any weight on it. Her foot was causing her the same amount of agony as both her wrists. Oooh, she loved crucifixion right now; She thanked the people that invented this heavenly torture from the bottom of her heart as the final blows were given. As the executioner finished the nailing of her left foot, Jamilla felt a bit sad. Now her other foot was the only thing left. After that, her agony would slowly fade away … So she put her other foot right next to her nailed one. The executioner brought out the last nail. Jamilla closed her eyes as her bully raised his hammer. Very intensely she tried to analyze the waves of pain that were caused by the final spike. As the bones of her right foot were crushed she couldn’t hold back a small yelp. Also when she felt how the nail tore the skin of here sole apart, she simply had to release a little “ Ôah!” As the nail was driven further into her foot and the wood of the longpole, Jamilla first realized she was being put to death in the most cruel, horrible and agonizing way known in the whole of the Roman Empire, and that she just loved it. The soldier smashed the nail a bit deeper for the last time. Then he went down a few steps and nailed the wooden plate that quoted Jamill’s crime, name and age to the longpole, right underneath her beautiful, nailed feet. “Jamilla, twenty one year old, blonde slave, murder, theft and arson.” Then he stepped down, took away his ladder and together with one of his fellows he went back to the camp. The third one staid to guard Jamilla so that no one would get her down of there.

Although it had seamed a lot longer, her crucifixion had only taken half an hour. Now most of the spectators resumed their work on the market. For Jamilla, the real horror of crucifixion was about to begin. Right now she realized that the pain in her wrists became too much to bare, even for someone who loved it, so Jamilla had to push up on her feet. Putting her entire weight on the nails piercing her feet caused her a wonderful amount of pain, yet she had to let go, if she didn’t want to faint, and she fell back on her wrists. But very soon, again, the pain in her wrists forced her to retry the push up. The Romans had spiked her in a very ingenious way. By bending her legs just a little bit, Jamilla had to face the problem where to put her weight, but she couldn’t suffocate that easy. As she looked around to see what the other people who had watched her crucifixion were doing. Some people were still looking at her, pointing out to each other how well she was nailed. Jamilla herself was also admiring the work of her bully. While she was at it, she saw that she wasn’t bleeding as much as she thought. The only blood Yamilla saw was the blood that had run out of the wounds when the nails were still driven in. Meanwhile the soldier that staid behind walked over to the fountain and took a drink. He didn’t return to the cross but went strait to one of the stalls on the market. He decided to watch over her from there, in the shadow. On the cross, Jamilla was exposed to the sun. Very slowly her bronzed skin was burning. As she saw the guard take a drink, Jamilla became aware of her own thirst. She wondered whether she could ask for some water as well. After a while her thirst became so big she decided to risk it. “Can…can I have some water to, please…?” she moaned. The guard fulfilled her request and put a cup filled with water on the top of his spear. Jamilla drunk it all and asked for more several times, especially around noon when the sun was burning every drop of liquid out of her.

Jamilla now realized that the pain wasn’t fading away at all. She didn’t know why but the spikes kept hurting her as much as they did when they were driven into place. She looked once more to the nails piercing her body. As she could clearly feel, al four of them were smashed through some bones. “I wonder…” she thought. Jamilla tried to move her fingers, but some of them didn’t react to her command. Also her toes weren’t completely movable. The sight of the spikes entering her feet and wrists fascinated her. Jamilla tried to reach the head of the nails in her wrists. Her fingers could only touch the top of the nails. Her excitement still remains, and her crotch has started to leak, she notes the liquid running down the lips, and the it drops down to the sand.

As the sun went down and the market became empty, Jamilla first realized she would never leave her cross again. Even her corpse would be left up there after she died. She wondered what it would be like, if she died. Would she pass out and never awake again? She didn’t know.

Jamilla’s first night on the cross was filled with agony. There was now way of getting some sleep up there. If the pain didn’t keep her awake, then the coldness of the night would make sure she didn’t sleep. The hours passed slowly, way to slowly, but when Jamilla finally thought she was used to it, the first rays of sunlight announced a new day….

As the market became crowded again, people returned to her cross to see how she was doing. "You 're realy enjoying this, aren't you?" Jamilla managed to ask her public. Of course they did. "Guess what," Jamilla moaned as a reply, "so do I..."

According to some spectators who had seen a few crucifixions already, Jamilla was “dancing” real nice. She was pushing herself up on the spikes piercing her feet and falling back on her wrists al the time. Even if she didn’t had to push up to get some fresh air, she still forced herself to do so. It largely increased her pain. It was her second day on the cross, but Jamilla felt far from exhausted. Now she knew why she hadn’t been raped or whipped: If she were still strong when they nailed her to her cross, she would last longer. Once again Jamilla looked at her beautiful body. The nails fascinated her, how they disappeared in her wrists and feet. Only four nails, but they put her in hell. Right now the thought crossed her mind that despite of the fact that she had been drinking quite a lot yesterday, she didn’t have to pee. The sun burned away every single drop of liquid, even the water from the fountain. In the afternoon, Jamilla felt how she was becoming weaker and weaker, how the pain slowly faded. Right now she wished she could live through it al again, from the cell, to the first nail, the moment of triumph when she exposed her completely nude body to the overwhelmed crowd, the nailing of her wrists and feet, her complete crucifixion. Later that day Jamilla lost conscience. She didn’t saw how a rich salesman paid of the guarding soldier and ordered his men to get Jamilla down from her cross. She didn’t even realized the nails were pulled out.

Jamilla looked out of the window as the sun came up. Six months had passed since her crucifixion. Her wounds had completely healed. The salesman had dropped her of at one of his houses in a small village while she was still unconscious. An other girl slave had told her everything. She had never seen him until now. He was standing in the inner yard, saying goodbye to someone. Then he entered Jamilla’s room. “You’re so beautiful” he said. “You’re so beautiful that you can ask me anything. Ask me and I’ll do it!” Jamilla looked at him as he touched her face. “Well, there is one thing you could do…” She answered.

Later that morning, the entire village watched how Jamilla publicly undressed herself. Completely nude, she walked over to the cross and went lying down on it. She smiled at the salesman as he approached with the hammer and the nails. “Nail me!” she said.

أI'm new here, who wants to make a video of a recorded call and she is torturing and humiliating me without limits

Written by myself

LITTLE TEASE NEXT DOOR Part 2

Shae woke up the next morning alone in her bed feeling very hungover and her body was sore. Her head was pounding. *Geez what happened last night* she thought. She was unable to recall right away how she even made it home. Slowly it started coming back to her. As she sat up she had visions of getting fucked. Hardcore fucked. By Joe.

*Wait Did that actually happen? Was it a dream?*

She looked under her bed and pulled out her special toy box. Everything seemed to be in its place. She grabs her cell phone and texts her best friend asking what time they left the bar that night and when did she drop her off at her house.

Her pussy was sore. It couldn't have been a dream.

She thought maybe she was losing her mind. She thought about going next door and asking him about it. How awkward of a conversation would that be if he didn't fuck her to madness last night.

She was feeling conflicted. If he raped me, why am dripping wet thinking about it.

If he didn't rape me why am I thinking so much about him doing it?

She took a shower letting the hot water relax her back muscles a bit before lathering her body in soap. She ran her hands all over and found a couple of bruises on her wrists. *There's no way I was dreaming* she thought.

She got out of the shower and got dressed and decided she'd just go over and ask him casually how his night went and if she remembered correctly about him helping her with her keys to the door.

She put on a cute little yellow low cut sundress and sandals and she walked over to Joe's house. Surprisingly he was not on his porch. She rings the doorbell to his big brick 2 story house that dwarfed her little 1 bedroom 1 bath house.

She was about to ring the doorbell again when she heard his footsteps nearing the door. He answered the door with a smile on his face, "Well hello there Shae, what can I do for you?"

"I just had a question" He gestured for her to come inside which she hesitates but still walks in. He closes the door behind them and he leads her to the couch in the living room to have a seat.

"So, what was your question?" he asks sitting in the recliner chair beside the couch.

Shae clears her throat, "Well, I mean this is gonna sound silly, but I had this really vivid crazy dream last night."

"Did you? " He says with a devious grin.

"You were in it." she says. Her voice suddenly growing hoarse and giving her a bit of a cough.

"Before you tell me about it, would you like something to drink?" he asks politely.

"Yes please. Sorry I am kind of dehydrated."

"It's no problem"

He comes back with a blue gatorade and Shae guzzles a good majority of it.

"Better?" he asks.

"Yes, thank you so much." She answers.

"Now, about this vivid crazy dream?"

"Yes well, I uhm, came home drunk from the bar last night."

"Oh. Only that part wasn't a dream. I saw you bust your ass last night and lose your keys. Remember?"

Shae paused and said, "Oh so that part actually..?"

He nodded his head slowly while smiling deviously at her. Shae began to feel kind of faint and dizzy.

"So did you come. In-into my, into th-the house I mean." She said. Her vision was reducing to a colorful blur. Then it begins to fade.

"Oh I came sweetie. I came all up in that pussy and made it mine remember?" he says moving himself to the couch closer to her as her eyes start closing and she can hardly hold herself upwards.

Shae heard him but she was barely clinging to consciousness. She weakly whispers "No.."

"I'm your fucking daddy. I can't believe you forgot so soon. That's okay, your tight ass is about to get a new lesson." He tells her just as she falls over slumped over on his couch.

"He flips her onto her back and rips open the dress to get those perfect titties out to play again.

"This time baby, you're not leaving. You're gonna be just the prettiest little basement & bedroom decoration." He says with both hands grabbing her tits massaging them and flicking her pink little nipples about as he does.

"You're fucking mine."

ー

Shae's eyes felt like they weighed more than she did. There was a very dull LED light on the other side of a wall that she could see. She looked around and let her eyes adjust. She felt cold and when she went to move she realized that she was laying on a mattress in a basement chained by one of her ankles. She had her little dress on still but it was torn at the chest leaving her cleavage out on display. She grabbed the chain and followed it to find it was attached to a metal U ring tie down that was concreted to the ground.

*Oh my God* she thought.

Then she exploded with rage.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE! JOE!! JOE YOU FUCKING BASTARD! WHAT THE FUCK! LET ME GO!! HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP!"

Joe appears from around the wall.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of her mattress didn't she?" He says calmly.

"Why?"

"I told you, you're fucking mine."

"You can't just keep me here. People will be looking for me."

"And?"

"Please let me-"

"Shut the fuck up" He said sternly as he started to walk over. Shae backed up and tripped falling back on the mattress. Joe suddenly lunged at her pinning her down with his body as she squirmed and struggled beneath him. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

"Who fucking owns you."

"Fuck you!"

*Slap*

"Who's your fucking daddy bitch?"

"You're not my fucking daddy!"

*Slap*

"That's not what you were screaming last night."

"Fuck you! I was drunk!"

*slap"

"Do you think that matters? You want this. Why else would you have come over? You wanted daddy to rape you again. You know that's what you want , what you deserve. What you fucking exist for."

"Noo" She whines with her face throbbing from him slapping her.

"Oh yes. Daddy's gonna hurt you with his big cock every fucking day and you're gonna fucking love it."

Shae softly crying softly whispering "No, no..."

Joe ignores her and he puts her two wrists together to keep them pinned with one hand above her head as his free hand starts to grope her titties. Her nipples were still sore from being pulled and twisted so hard the night before. Everytime he touched them they send a shockwave of pain and pleasure throughout her whole body.

He reached down between her legs rubbing her pussy through her little dress and panties.

"Mmmm this is no longer yours. It is mine. It will be shaved when I say, played with as I say and fucked as I say. Do you understand me?"

Shae doesn't answer but instead just stares up at him with watery fear & hate filled eyes.

"Perhaps I just need to intoxicate you again to get you to look at me with those submissive eyes once again. Or maybe some heavy drugging so I can brainwash you. Hmm? Would you like that?" he says.

She shakes her head no. He smiles and says too bad.

Stands up and forces her up by her hair and over to a sawhorse sex bench in the corner with a mirror in front of it. He forces her to bend over it and he straps her down facing the mirror.

"I made you a promise last night that I was gonna take every hole on your body. I have yet to fulfil that promise my little tease."

Joe takes off his clothes as his eyes remained locked on her, admiring how good she looks tied bent over that sawhorse with that helpless expression on her face. His cock springs free and he begins to stroke it. Then he walks up and slaps it on her face a few times ordering her to open her mouth. She hesitates at first until Joe reared his hand back to slap her again and so she opens her mouth.

Joe slams right into her throat making her gag hard on his cock. He had his hands on each side of her head to make sure she choked on his cock properly. "Mmmm you can take it further down your throat than that. Relax your throat and this face fucking will be easier on you."

What choice did she have? She tried her best to relax her throat so his cock would slide down it easier. She hated obeying him but really she didn't want to puke all over him either. He had his cock going in and out of the back of her throat to where she was literally swallowing the head of his cock with each thrust. Drool was all over and her eyes were watering like crazy. She looked up at him with those watery eyes when he barked a command at her to do so and when she did he'd look down into them with awe as if her almost suffocating on his cock was the most precious sight in the world to him.

"You better not waste a fucking drop of my cum little girl or daddy is going to punish you hard" Her eyes widen as she didn't expect him to cum in her mouth just yet but before she could even take another gasp of air he grabbed her head and pressed it hard down onto his cock as she felt his hot cum shooting down her throat hole.

"Swallow baby. Swallow it! Yeahhh!"

Shae felt so filthy.

"Good girl he said finally releasing her head and he walked away from her over to a drawer where he pulled out a dildo, a ball gag and a vibrating wand.

"Since you were a good girl, I am going to reward you."

She looked at him curious as to what he was going to do while still adorned with her helpless expression. Oh how Joe loved his personal fuck toy.

"Open"

Shae opens her mouth to accept the ball gag into it. Then Joe sets up the wand on her clit and ties it to where it can't move and then he rubs the dildo on her asshole and shae squirmed in protest. He laughed and suddenly shoved it into her pussy, fucking her with it a bit as he flipped on the wand. Fuck it felt so good. No matter how she wanted to deny it he was going to make her cum for him yet again.

Joe could tell from her gagged moans and the movement of her body as he played with her that she was about to have an orgasm ripping through her entire body. But he suddenly stopped, pulling the dildo out and turned the vibrator off, denying her the orgasm.

Oh did this piss Shae off. She let out a moan full of distress, need and a bratty "But whyy?!" sound to it. Joe laughed and asked "Aww. Poor baby girl doesn't like being denied orgasms now does she?"

He laughs deviously stroking his big already hard again cock.

"Dont worry baby" Joe then spits on her asshole and Shae whimpers and shakes her head no, knowing she's about to have her virgin asshole taken by Joes porn star sized cock. She knew his girth would rip her asshole and stretch her to fit him inside. She felt him rub the tip at her tight hole.

*Oh god! No!*

She struggled like crazy in her restraints and joe took some of Shae's wetness up from her pussy to her asshole as Shaes anticipatory whining and pleading grew louder. With one hard merciless thrust he plunged his huge cock deep into her asshole and turned her whines into loud screams. She never felt so helpless, filthy and in pain as he ripped her ass with his cock. As he started pulling out it hurt even worse but as soon as he got his cock to where the tip was almost out of her hole he rammed it right back in.

She screams again and whimpers as joe starts to steadily fuck her asshole.

"Oh fuck yeah baby take this fucking dick!"

He suddenly rams the dildo back in her pussy at the same time making Shae let out the most perfect surprised helpless cry then he flipped the wand back on.

Shae couldnt take it, feeling so full with all of her holes were currently filled with dick, dildo and a gag. It was overwhelming. She felt it coming though. An orgasm with the most torturous intensity she's ever experienced. Joe seeing her body tense ready to release, gave her that release with the the touch of the button turning the wand on hi.

Shae's orgasm ripped through from her toes through to the tip of her head. Her body convulsed and her mind was absent any thought other than that of the hardest orgasm she has ever had in her life that continued to ripple through her body sending after shock like shudders.

The clenching of her hole on his cock had him on the verge of cuming deep in her ass.

It was when he saw the look of submission in her eyes again that he finally filled her ass with his cum.

He moans out as he feels his cock start spewing cum into her. She was his. She is property. His property. A fucking toy to be kept, used, put on display.... And the perfect specimen to breed.

To all the readers of the stories that have been posted by one of our Motherless Member
PAULINEOMTS,
I do believe she has finished with her very enjoyable story writing, i have not seen any stories posted by her in a long time,
I hope there is nothing wrong with her hope she is in god health,
Maybe she could start a new story book , loved all her stories lots of very interesting topics covered,
loved the forced, rape, BDSM, torture etc.
My partner come ex-partner, now partner again, and her younger sister, both enjoyed the stories, we had great sex sessions together after they read the stories.

I myself wrote several stories that i posted on Motherless, some had very good reviews obviously some were ridiculed, I stopped writing stories after 4-5 i posted were taken down no idea why i never broke any rules, last one i posted showed as posted was in all Motherless categories especially Confessions, they showed in my posts i signed out a day later i signed back in to find the stories had gone not even showing a written in my own Posts, i have no idea why this happens, and i know i am not the only one who has encountered this happening.

My girlfriend, Leann, of 2 years has kept my cock locked in a chastity cage for the past 18 months. Unlike most women that lock up their cocks, she forces me to cum at least 3 times a week. She does not allow my cock out, but forces me to cum from being fucked in the ass. Normally she likes to fuck me with a strapon, but sometimes she makes me ride a toy by myself or fists me.

She does unlock my cock once a month for a weekend and allows me to fuck her, but mostly tortures my cock or teases me even more. Being unlocked doesnt always mean I get to cum.

My girlfriend loves to bring men and women home and forces me to watch them, clean their cum out of her, suck the mens' cock clean, allow women to sit on my face, but my cock and ass belong to her. She has never allowed anybody else to use me that way.

She frequently visits a local strip club and I have never been allowed to go with her, but she has brought home some of the girls and occasionally a fellow patron.

Last night Leann allowed me to go to the strip club with her. She left my cock locked up and made me wear a butt plug.
When we arrived it was clear that she visited often because almost everybody there knew her, but even when they said hi to her they ignored me like I didnt exist, but I am used to that.

After watching a dance and saying hi to a dozen people. Leann took me back to one of the private dance rooms and had one of the girls come in. She told the girl that this was the special dance she told her about and the girl just giggled and started her dance on my lap.
My girlfriend watched in the small room with us as this girl pushed her tits into my face, put my hands all over her which I thought was against the rules so I hesitated.

She sensed my hesitation and got pissed. "What? Am I not good enough for you to touch faggot?" I was shocked and didnt say anything which made her even more mad. She slapped me across the face and stood up. She turned around and her ass was right in my face. I am a huge ass man and it turned me on so much. "What about my ass fag boy? Do you like that?"
She grabbed me by my hair and pulled my face into her ass. Her G-String was practically non-existent. "Lick it bitch"

This time I didnt hesitate, I started tongue fucking her sexy ass and after about 15 minutes she squirted all over the floor. I was so turned on and my cock was straining against its cage, my ass clenching onto my plug, I started to beg Leann for permission to cum.

The Dancer and my GF started laughing at me and making fun of me which just turns me on even more. The Dancer said "Shut up an keep tonguing my ass faggot". But this time she was sitting on the bench type seating next to Leann kind of slouched down. It took a little longer but she eventually squirted all over my face and I couldnt help but start cumming myself.

I instantly confessed to Leann and she was pissed that I came without permission. She asked the Dancer to go get "James". Leann squeezed my balls hard and slapped me as punishment while we were alone.

After a few minutes the huge black bouncer from the door was in our private room. He and Leann knew each other and I imagine she has probably came home with his cum for me to lick out of her before, but I havent seen him before.

She thoroughly enjoyed telling James about every detail of the events leading up to this moment. They both laughed together. Leann was dressed like she could have been one of the Dancers just before getting naked. She had a tiny lil skirt on, sexy lace panties and matching bra, and one of those designer cut up shirts with huge heels.

Leann made me crawl over next to James as she did a sexy strip for him and once she was naked, sat on the other side of him and slowly pulled out his cock. I was mesmerized. I have seen BBC porn, sucked a few black cocks, but never seen one this huge.
She just held it and slowly stroked it telling me "James is OUR new boyfriend now." She made a point to say OUR and explained that James loves lil white cuckold cum sluts almost as much as he loves white girls with asses. She told me how I would be his bitch now as well as hers and that I would worship his cock as mine was no longer allowed to fuck her anymore.

Leann made me get on my hands and knees, put my face down in the spot thats still wet from when the Dancer squirted all over the floor. At first I thought about how gross the floor was but then she pulled the plug out of my ass.

Leaan spread my ass open and I felt so exposed. She looked up at James and said "Daddy, please come use your new little fag boy"

James came up behind me and I felt his hands on my lower back/hips. "Say fuck me Daddy"

I did, I called another man Daddy and begged him to fuck me. This was the first time I have ever had a real cock in me and it felt like I was being fucked with a baseball bat. I wanted to cum but all I could do was beg for my new Daddy to cum in me. I wanted to please him so badly.

James came in my ass and I heard Leann suck him off which is the first time I have ever seen her suck something off after being in my ass. He called her a good little girl and told her to finish me off.

Leann easily fisted me after Daddy's cock fucking me and made me beg for permission to cum. She dragged it out torturing me since I had already cum once without permission that night.

After I came, Leann plugged me back up and we went home. I cant wait for Daddy to come over again.