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CrucifixionMastr
Hetero Male, 80, Tucson, Arizona 
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CrucifixionMastr
My greatest interests are the human mind and what it can do. I hope you are highly intelligent, as well as submissive, masochist, and slave potential.



What do I want, Well I DO Know What I WantIt is NOT fucking or B,, What I Want Most is using my 46 years of skillsexperience to play a womens mind and body like a musical instrument, creating mental highs with Your Natural drugs of adrenalin, endorphins, and sexual stimulation, and then triggering climaxes so powerfully explosive that you look like your having Continuous Gran Mal Seizures,,, and in a few cases those women have passed out from the intensity of being continuously played at that intense level of screaming climaxes...only to wake up and cycle all over again...Interested?Crucifixion is the epitome of sadomasochistic eroticism in my opinion. Your body is hanging on the cross stark naked. Every part of your body is exposed and fully visible on public display in the private dungeon club. Its drenched in and dripping with sweat thats mixed with trickles of blood where you have been tortured on the cross. You are criss-crossed back and front, with dozens upon dozens of red whip stripes and raised welts. Tears are running out of your eyes from all your crying.I have 46 years of the most intensive experience as an erotic, sadistic Master, capable of creating those extreme mental Highs, by mixing your natural endorphins, adrenalin and sexual stimulation, which result in climaxes sooo powerful that you look like youre having those continuous screaming Gran Mal Seizures, which I mentioned above.The crucifixion bondage, is just one of the many ways to create the adrenalin and endorphins....If you can get yourself to Tucson, Arizona, USA, on your own money, you may be a candidate to serve me as my slave. (Travel Money is the biggest scam on CollarMe.com)

BE REAL, no game players, have had several here on this website, who play along, for weeks or months, the vanish. I do not like that, so be prepared to prove your real, and meet sooner, than later. I am a bit gun shy about that, after so many games here.



Master Seth













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4/24/2014 5:56:25 AM: Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:'Table Normal'; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:''; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:'Calibri','sans-serif'; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} The Smoke House Crucifixion, my first torture. Written by Master Seth, updated 4/17/13      My name is Susan. All my life I have had wild fantasies about whipping, torture, hanging, bondage, and crucifixion. As a young girl of 10 years old, after seeing some early bible movies, I had a one of those extremely vivid nightmares, that is so powerful it seemed real. The nightmare was about me, a hot and sexy young woman, being whipped and then being crucified. The nightmare really caused my mind to wander,, and I could not control my imagination, or my increasing curiosity with each passing teenage year. It became my vision the first time I masturbated, at 12 years old,, and remained so from then on.. By the age of 14, I was in the 8th grade, and many of us girls were developing highly sexual bodies, and attracting boys like moths to a flame. I began sneaking a look at magazines the boys were taking to school and hiding in their lockers. I would let them touch my body behind open locker doors, in return for getting me more magazines like that. Eventually one of those magazines showed a picture of a naked girl being nailed to a cross in Germany during the war, for refusing to have sex with the Nazi’s. That image seared its way into my soul. I wet my pants right there in the hallway by my locker. I finally got up the nerve to ask Hurley, one of the biggest of the boys who had brought me that magazine,, and who was hot to see a lot more of my body, if he would get busy finding me a lot more such magazines on crucifixion. He wanted payment, in the form of seeing my body. I promised him that I would let him see my naked body, but only if he promised to whip me, and then tie me up on a pole and cross beam, as if I were being crucified on a real cross, and not ever tell anyone we did this. My parents would have killed me if they found out. Hurley immediately got a raging hard-on so big he could hardly walk to his next class. And of course, he agreed. It was nearing the end of the school year, and summer heat was already building up. So I wanted to experience this before the end of the school year, and while the weather was in our favor. We spent a couple of after school times discussing what this “scene” would look like, that I wanted to experience. There would have to be a remote, safe, place to do this. I wanted there to be a scourging, or whipping, as had been done in old history crucifixions before the actual placing of a victim’s body on the cross. The intent was both humiliation and punishment, and also to weaken the victim before the actual crucifixion. This would make them much weaker, and less to be able to struggle in the crucifixion experience. But in my case, I already knew that pain was a huge turn on for me, and I wanted to be really sexually excited before I got tied up on some sort of cross. I specified that I was to be whipped with 25 lashes on my back, then 25 on my front, then a third 25 all over my body. Then I was to be tied up on a cross, (NO nails through the hands or wrists), and left there until the next day, or until I appeared to be in some danger of actually dying. There was to be NO mercy, no matter how much I might beg, cry, scream or plead for mercy.  Hurley seemed a little set back by these terms, but after I took both of his hands and held his palms tight over my shirt, on my breasts, he immediately agreed he would provide what I needed. His hands started to quiver, and his lower lip was quivering, as he squeezed them harder, making me winch in pain. As I watched the excitement build in his eyes, not to mention in his bulging pants, I thought right then to myself, “I have found the right man to be my executioner”. So we began trying to figure out a place and make a plan. We neither one were old enough to drive, so he started scouting for a place on his bike. Hurley’s first idea was a tree house some kids had built as their “clubhouse” years earlier in a large forest area. I bicycled out to look at it with him one day, after school.  But I rejected it, since it was only half a block from some homes,, and any screams I made from that high up in that tree house would carry all over the neighborhood and surely bring cops running. But, by now, Hurley was now a sexually “driven man”. He was determined to see that naked body of mine, and becoming obsessed with this potential experience of mine. So he spent every day after school on his bike ranging all over our county looking for a safe place for our “scene”. Eventually, Hurley located an old empty farmhouse outside the edge of town, which was at least one mile from the nearest buildings on any other properties.  In the back, behind the farmhouse, and even behind the barn, there was rather small building. It had been used as a smoke house for hanging pork hams and pork carcasses. In order to keep the smoke in, it had been constructed of solid brick and it was well-sealed up with NO Windows. The door was heavy and metal lined. The slightly dome shaped roof was supported with heavy beam trusses inside, and it had a mud thatched roof on top of an underlying metal covering. It actually had been sodded, with grass and weeds growing on top, which provided further insulation as well as keeping the smoke inside. The very heavy roof truss beam structure inside was also used for hanging the meat to be smoked. The bottom beams of these heavy wood trusses were only about 8 feet off the wooden floor. Several wood posts rose up from the ground below the floor, to  support the bottom of each of the several roof trusses. And the flooring was built tightly around the posts. There was a small wooden ladder left there, which had been used to help hang up meat to be smoked. The only other thing still left in the smokehouse, by the last farmers, were three or four crates, and some heavy, short chunks of logs cut for smoking. These were about 11 inches in diameter, and had been cut short, about 8 inches long to fit easily in the smoker stove at the back of the room. I knew immediately what we would use those for! This location was perfect. The only air hole out of the small room was a stovepipe chimney through the roof, from the smoker stove. The air intake into the room was a heavy iron grill, or grate, in the wood floor, near the stove, about one foot square, covered with a screen to keep rodents and bugs out. That provided the only air supply into the room for the wood smoking stove. With the solid brick construction, lack of air openings, the heavy sod roof, and the heavy metal covered door, the smoke house was virtually sound proof so far as any noise getting out. I told my parents I was going to sleep-over at a slumber party weekend with one of my girlfriends on Friday night and would be back on Sunday afternoon. Hurley and I set a time to meet at the smokehouse at 7:30 Friday evening. We would each ride our bicycles out separately so as not to catch anyone’s attention that we were together. He had gathered some ropes, and asked me what else we needed.  Of course my mind went to the whipping, which was apparently customary before a crucifixion.  I had no whip, but when I brought this up, Hurley said he had a cat of nine tails which his father had hanging on the wall in the house for years, till his wife made him put it out in their barn.  His father claimed it was from a great grandfather and that it had been used on sailors in the early navy. He said he would sneak it out of the box in his father’s barn, and gather it, along with some candles, some flashlights and the ropes, and take it all out and hide it in the smoke house, at the abandoned farm, a few days before Friday. For my part, I had stashed away some extra water, munchies, a few hand towels, rags, and an old thrown away flimsy nightgown which I had saved for this event.  I loaded these in a bag and hid them some blocks from my house in thick bushes the evening before Friday. Friday evening, I showered, and shaved my pubic hair. Then, I bicycled out and picked up the stashed bag of my supplies, and headed on to the farm. We each arrived at the smoke house, almost within minutes of each other. We set up one of the flashlights on a crate to give light in the room. Both he and I had no experience with this sort of thing. Therefore, since I had read up on this more than Hurley had, I took the lead in giving instructions, even though I was supposed to be the prisoner being crucified. I told Hurley he would have to go back outside while I changed clothes. While he was out and the door closed,, I stripped off all my clothes except my thong panties,, and pulled the old thin night gown on over my head and down over my nearly naked body.  It was for a larger woman, so the neckline was pretty low and revealed a pretty good view of my pert breasts. They were only B Cup Size, but they still really stood out on my thin sexy body. I was, at that time, 14 years old, and 5 foot 2 inches, and weighed only about 99 pounds, with a flat hard tummy. I knew my body was already really hot and sexy. And, my hormones were raging. By now I was getting really excited, scared, and yet I clearly had no thoughts of backing out on this little scene. I had dreamed of this for too many years to let this experience slip through my fingers now. My pussy was dripping and my adrenalin was off the chart. My fingers were shaking, and my whole body was quivering.  I was almost panting like a dog in hot weather,, and was sweating, even though the evening was already cooling off from the mid-May warmth of the daytime. I decided I was ready, so I called Hurley in.  His expression when he saw me, was worth a million dollars, and made me even wetter and more excited, since no man had seen even this much of me, slightly covered as I was.  Hurley began to get excited, his breathing increasing immediately, almost matching mine. I reminded him of our agreement, which included that he could not have intercourse with me, and that he could only do what things we had agreed that we would do, in keeping with the concept of a real crucifixion. With panting breath, he fully agreed. It was then that I first began to sense that I was not going to have to worry so much about him being too aggressive, but rather, that he was almost being too submissive to my terms and rules. Clearly he was going to do whatever necessary, just to fulfill my promise to see my naked body. I had him tie a separate rope on each of my wrists, wrapping them around the padding of small hand towels I had brought along. He kept looking at my breasts which were pretty obvious through the flimsy and low cut nightgown,, and his hard on was budging his blue jeans… I then had him throw the two ropes over a roof truss/meat hanging beam. Then I had him take the ropes over to another post, and wrap both ropes about two turns around the other post. Then I had him pull the ropes tighter.  My wrists were drawn up,, my breasts almost popping out of the nightgown.. but I was still standing on flat feet. I said “Hurley,,, this has to be a lot tighter, pull them till I am stretched up on tiptoe, just barely touching the floor with my toes,, so that not even the balls of my feet are touching the floor.” He followed my orders, and soon my arms felt like they were going to pull out of their sockets. I was almost totally hanging by my wrists and in a situation where I was now totally helpless and at the will of a very horny young man whom I did not really know how far I could trust. And, those hormones were obviously raging in his pants. “Now” I said, “It is time for my scourging with your cat of nine tails whip. You will have to rip the back of my night gown down to below my hips. Then you are to give me the first 25 of a total of 75 lashes with the whip.” “Remember our agreement, that the first 25 are on my back, then rip the front of my nightgown down to below the waist, or just tear it completely off my body, and give me the next 25 more on the front of my body. After that, you are to give me the last 25 on the back of my and all around my naked body, sides and thighs. Even if I am screaming, crying or begging for mercy, you are not to stop, with either the whipping or the following crucifixion. Do you understand Hurley? ” Hurley looked at me like a wide-eyed puppy dog, holding the cat of nine tails in his hands.  “Are you sure you want to do this? “ He whimpered. I knew right then I had picked the wrong 'little boy' to do this execution, and that I would have to make him mad to get this job done. So I kicked Hurley full on in the balls with Both Feet. That did it,, he turned red with pain,, and anger. “What the fuck did you do that for?” he yelled. “To make you act like a man instead of a sniveling little boy, and do what we agreed to do .” I replied. And then, I added “And if you don’t keep your agreement for this, everyone in the school is going to know how you turned coward!” That got his attention, and he said “I am sorry,, we WILL get this done as we agreed.” The pain in his balls, and his anger, were still very evident. He picked up his cat of nine tails, and picked up his pride off the floor, and walked behind me. For a moment there while trying to get Hurley back on track, I forgot about being scared,, but NOW, I started sweating again, very profusely. My nightgown was beginning to stick to my body and I looked down. My breasts were so wet with sweat that my nightgown was sticking to them and exposing every curve of them. I looked like I was in a wet tee-shirt contest. Suddenly I forgot all about my wet boobs when I felt his big hands both take hold of each side of the back the neckline of my nightgown, and with one huge rip, the whole back of my nightgown was gone. I could tell I really had made him angry,, now I was really in for it, and totally helpless to what I had created.  My pussy was dripping right past my thong panties, and running down my legs. I could smell it, and so could Hurley. It surly was fueling the fire in his pants, and I had never been so turned on in my life. Hurley swung a few practice swings,, the whip singing in the air,, as he got his feel for using it. But all I got was a Very Close Breeze.  However, even that was enough to raise my fear, and set my body quivering. Sweat began running down my forehead and into my eyes. The room suddenly seemed to be getting very hot. That first strike whistled through the air and hit my right shoulder blade, and set my skin on fire.  I started to whimper,, but he thankfully kept going.. The second stroke was right down the middle of my lower back and hips, burning my ass. The thong panties were in the wet crack of my ass, and provided NO protection form the vicious whip, much less the now mad and vicious Hurley. By 25 strokes my whole backside was ablaze with pain and I was screaming and bawling. I was Finally getting what I had been dreaming of, and longing for. Hurley then came around to my front side, and I got a look at his eyes,, I could tell the anger and rage from being kicked in the balls, had now transformed him into a truly ‘sadistic whip master’ who was totally enjoying hearing my screams. I was so pleased, that it occurred to me, “maybe I should have kicked him in the balls even harder”. Hurley slung the whip over his shoulder, and grabbed both shoulders of my night gown and ripped straight down,, the sleeves shredded, and it was gone from my now nearly naked body. Only my soaked thong was left covering my pussy, and it showed clearly through the thin sheer wet fabric. He took the whip and began on my front side. With his rage, and his newly found sadism showing, he immediately starting with a strong and full horizontal stoke right across both of my breasts at once.  His eyes were fire.  He really looked scary. The first stroke across my breasts set off blood curdling scream from my throat. He only looked more pleased, and continued to set my whole front on fire, from my shoulder to my knees.  My screaming was almost constant,, yet I was also getting the most sexually excited In my life. By 15 strokes on my front, my whole body was quacking uncontrollably,,, both in fear and in excitement.  I suddenly caught myself screaming at Hurley  “Harder you Bustard,, HARDER” .  I COULD NOT BELIEVE I said that. My masochistic needs and hormones had taken over my voice! My body was in control now; all logic was gone from my brain, no sense of self-preservation existed now. I was feeding on the pain and the humiliation of being beaten, reduced to a pleading whipped piece of naked female meat, by a now fully sadistic man, who was finally taking out his anger on me with no concern for my pain or our friendship. My plan, and my intent, was succeeding. And now I was simply begging for MORE. “Please you weakling,, harder, you whip like a pussy!” He immediately increased his power and the cadence, leaving NO time to absorb the pain of one stroke before another hit. And he began increasing the focus on whipping my breasts.  The breasts were ablaze with fire,, the nipples felt like they were being sliced off by the harsh leather strands. Slight trickles of blood began to mingle with the sweat running down my body. He completed the 25 on the front, and walked behind me to do the last 25 on my back, and sides. The pause in flaming pain, let me catch my breath, and as the first strike hit my ass, I screamed out “Stop”. He came back around the front of me, and looked puzzled,,, “You want me to quit now? Who is backing out NOW?”, he asked sarcastically. I tried to take another swing at his balls, but was too weak and shaking to connect, but it did piss him off again. “I am not backing off anything in our agreement, and neither are you! I just want all of the last 25 strokes on my front,, cause it hurts more than on my back. I could hardly feel that stroke on my ass!   I want to FEEL that whip you wimp!” Hurley’s  lips curled up into a sadistic sneer, and he immediately resumed with a very hard downward stroke on each of my breasts. I could tell Hurley was now totally on board for the rest of this exciting event. By the next 12 strokes blood was running down from both nipples and various other deep cuts of the whip in my breasts, stomach, more blood was dribbling down from whip cuts on the sides of my ribs, arm pits, belly and hips. Hurley was grinning ear to ear at each of my screams that he was wrenching from my tortured body. After the 75 strokes were done, I was hanging by my wrists,, totally limp, and no longer even trying to get my toes on the floor. My body began something I never experienced,, a shaking from deep within,, which erupted into the most volcanic climax I had experienced yet in my life. It was tearing me apart with spasms and contractions in my pussy. Hurley stood back and just watched in amazement. It was clear he had just seen the future of his sex life too. After a bit, his took the ropes loss from the post which were holding me up. It took me a few minutes to get my legs to hold me up, so in the meantime, I wrapped my arms around the nearest roof support pole to stay up right. The pole’s rough wood in contact with my burning breasts set them a fire all over again. I began to give Hurley the next step instructions. “Put a stack of four of those 8 inch log slices on top of each other here in front of this post. And then put one of those crates over hear in front of the stack of log slices.” He complied,, not quite sure what the details of this next step were. I then worked my way around in front of the pole I was hanging on to.. and with his help, I stepped up on the crate, then on up to the top of the stack of log sections he had stacked up. This put my shoulders about even with the cross beam the post was holding up.  “Now bring the ropes and step ladder and get ready to tie my wrists and arms to the beam on each side of this post.” As he complied, I clung to the post and cross beam and began to gingerly worked my burning nearly naked body around on my narrow perch, to get my back to the post. As I backed against the post, and felt the splinters of the rough sawed post and roof truss beam in my fiery whipped back, shoulders, and butt. Hurley came up the step ladder on my left side, and took my wrist ropes and began to wrap the rope many turns around my wrists and the towel padding. “Tighter I commanded, or I will kick you again.” By now his sadistic training had reached a point, he was more than willing to make it very tight, and completed about 20 wraps of the rope, then tying it tight. That left about 10 feet of the rope hanging down. He moved the ladder around and completed the same process on my right wrist. “Now” I instructed him, “Bring the rope end from my left hand over the post behind me and up over the beam from front back on the right side of the post. Repeat the same with the rope from the right hand, so it hang down the back of the post on my left side. In the process, a now very sadistic Hurley, made it a point to be sure that the rough rope was dragged heavily and harshly over my very raw breasts and nipples. It felt wonderful. “Now let me put the weight on my wrist ropes and let’s see how they work out. “ I let my kneel bend and lower my body, being very careful to not lose my balance on the shaky stack of log sections.  By the time my wrists were holding most of my weight I was sagged down to where my knees were bent about 45 degrees, and my arms were pulling up at about 45 degrees, pulling on my shoulders and rib cage, making it hard to breath. I raised up a little on the balls of my feet to relieve my arms and shoulders. “Now, take the ends of the rope hanging on the left side of the post and tie them very tightly with many wraps around the ankle. Then put more wraps from the ankle down around the bottom of the foot, and back up to the ankle ropes, so as to form a sort of rope stirrup/sling around my feet and ankle. Then use the remaining rope to tie my ankles to the back side of post” “ Repeat the same on the other side. But when you finish, use the remaining rope to loop between both ankle ropes, and across the back of the post, so when the wood block are gone, my ankles will be pulled together behind the post.” After Hurley had secured my ankles to the side of the post of my crucifixion cross, and completed the cross ties between my ankles behind the post, I was ready,, I had gotten pretty good control of my emotions due to having to instruct Hurley,, but now that I was ready, the fear and shaking came back… I started sweating.. profusely again,,, it sure was getting hotter in that smoke house again. Wanting to stall for a few moments and prepare my mind for the final crucifixion,, I told him to go outside and be sure no one was around. When he came back in, declaring it was now late night and dark, and one was within a mile of us, he shut the door, tight, and slid the lock bolt in place. Then he realized, I had just sent him out because I was stalling. He had the rest of this figured out.  He came over and moved the ladder to the side wall, then he came back and kicked out the stack of log slices I was supporting my weight on with my tiptoes. Immediately the full weight of my body, slim as it was, came to bear on my stretched arms and tightly bound wrists.  At the same time I attempted to put some of my weight on my ankles by pushing down with my legs muscles. The effect of this was to cause my ankles to be drawn back of the post and around towards the opposite side of the post that the rope came down from. This caused my legs to be spread wide open. There was NO possibility to keep them closed. Hurley looked at that, and decided it was time to do the next agreed step and put one of his big hands on each side of the waist band of my thong panties., and ripped it STRAIGHT UP. The tearing seams of the fabric cut deeply into my cunt,, and finally as the pressure increased, he ripped the back apart, coming apart in his hands. I screamed bloody murder! Putting the pussy soaked thong to his nose he just grinned sadistically. My arms were burning from the strain,, so I tried to push down with my leg muscles,, which spread my legs even more obscenely wide. After a while the burning in my leg muscles betrayed the rest of my body, and the legs collapsed again, throwing my weight back on my arms and shoulders. My body was dripping with sweat from the pain and exertion, I could see my sweat dripping from my face down onto my raw breasts, the salty sweat making them burn even more. Hurley decided to put the cat of nine tails back into action. This time he concentrated on my wide open thighs and my cunt. Now he was drawing blood in the inside of my thighs which had been not accessible before. Soon my pussy lips and clit were also oozing blood,, and my sobbing body had just dwindled down to a spasming, shaking and climaxing mass of wet sweating bloody human female flesh. Not satisfied with my condition, he came over and began tormenting my pussy,, pushing his fingers in, and finally his whole hand,, I was being crucified and fisted at the same time. The climaxes became explosive, racking my whole tortured body. Hurley said he was going for a smoke, but he did not come back. Slowly the batteries in the flashlight burned out, and I was hanging there in the dark. Sweating, crying, and climaxing without end. After what seemed like hours, Hurley opened the door, bringing in new flashlights and a bunch of candles. Hurley had with him some much older high school students, all older than Hurley or I.  There were about ten guys and girls,, It seems he went to the skate arena’s Friday night party and made a deal with some of the highschool jocks and their dates, that if he gave them something to REALLY SEE AND PLAY WITH, he would be automatically taken in to the best fraternity in the school with no hazing or initiation, when the summer was over and our Freshman year started. They all lit candles, and began touching my body, pinching, pulling on my pussy lips and nipples, laughing at the snot dripping with the sweat from my nose and face, as I continued the struggle to do the dance of alternating the pain between my arms and my legs, and struggling to breath. One began dripping candle wax on my raw breasts, causing more screaming,, and begging. Another put the candle flame under my very widely spread pussy,, I immediately went into raging, quaking, climaxes again. My body again took over my mind and my common sense. AND my voice. Within minutes I was Begging for more pain! “Whip! ! !. PLEASE whip me more!  HURT ME!. The smell of burning hair stubble filled the room, mingling with the smell of my sweat, pussy, and my screams for mercy. Some of the more adventurous girls picked up the whip and began whipping my breasts, pussy and my arm pits. The more I screamed, the more they laughed and hit me harder. And the HARDER were my climaxes which took over my whole body and mind. By now, I was as high as if I had taken hard drugs. I watched as two of the high school jocks dropped their pants and underwear and their girlfriends started sucking them off. I felt like I was watching some porn movie, but in a very unreal place. Hurly just sat back rubbing his pants. After hours of their torture, the older kids left, thanking Hurley on the way out. And I was just left there, hanging, dipping, and sobbing, my climaxes having abandoned me to just pure pain. Hurley sat down on a crate,, again boosting a huge hard on in his jeans. And just watched me. After a long while, he then stood up and slowly stripped naked,, His cock was huge. He picked up one of the candles,, and began his own torturing of my nipples and pussy. Soon all the remaining hair stubble was singed off,, and I was shaking like a leaf. Hurly brought over the ladder, and I thought I was going to be taken down, but instead he got up and sat on the top of the ladder, naked, with his head up in the roof rafters, and his dick above my head. He then jacked off all over my face,, slapping my face with his cock after he went off, to spread it all over my face. He then climbed down and put the ladder back against the wall. Laughing at me in my pain,, and my cum smeared face, he said “Now let’s see how soon you kick a man in the balls again”. Hurley then found an old well used broom in the corner, with a rough, worn, and weathered handle, and picking up a remaining piece of rope,, he shoved the handle roughly into my pussy, and using the middle of the rope,, he tied it to the broom near my  knees, and taking each end of the rope, he brought the ends up the front and back of my body, and fashioned a tie, belt like, around my waist to keep it in place. As an afterthought, he took a shorter piece, tied it to the handle down near the bristles end,, and looped it loosely around the pole and tied it in the back of the pole, just to keep the bottom of the broom from wandering away from a vertical position and lined up into my cunt. Very quickly I discovered, to his delight, that when my leg muscles would give out, and I sagged back down from my wrists,, that dammed broom handle was stabbing me deeply and roughly in my vagina. His sadistic smile showed he was very proud of his work. And, the view of this new torture was setting his cock to pulsing and growing again. And with that, he dressed, gave me a large drink of water, and then turned off the new flashlight and left again without a word, and closed the door again, tightly, leaving me hanging in the dark. I saw through the door as he went out that the sun was high. After what seemed like hours, the room began to heat up,, The sun was surely baking the brick walls, and heating up the dirt topped sod roof. As I struggled with the cross, the broom handle was both stimulating and torturing my cunt. Every move of my body was twisting that rough wooden shaft around inside of me. After hours,, the large drink of water began to have its effect.  I had not pissed for several hours, since leaving home last night. The pressure increased,, and eventually, I lost control, and began to pee. That started my bowls to want to go too, and the broom handle was pressing into my colon as well. The stress on my body was turning my bowels to liquid, and a couple hours after I pissed, my ass erupted with an almost fluid discharge. I hung there, sobbing and stinking. As the room heated up, I feared Hurley was never coming back.  The sweat of my body was increasing with the heat rise in the sun heated little room, and I could feel the radiant heat from the sun heating  the metal door. Eventually I became so weak, and overheated, that I quit struggling and just hung there and finally passed out or went to sleep, not sure which. I must have been out for hours, because when I came to, the room was cold, and I was shivering,, it had become night again. There was no longer any sense of time,, only the heat and cold cycle of day and night. Sometime in the middle of the night, Hurley did come back, gave me another drink of water, and then began the process of taking me down from the cross. He first removed the broom handle, which was bloody when it came out. Then untied my ankles, and put a couple crates under me to stand on. But my legs were too weak to hold me up, so he tied a new rope around my chest and up to the beam to hold my weight while he got my wrists untied.  After releasing my wrists, he put my arms over his left shoulder and released the chest rope which was holding me. I collapsed over his shoulder, and he laid me out on the floor. I just laid there in the loose dirt on the floor, while he rounded up all the rope and stuff we brought out there, and put it all in a bag to take out of there. He then picked me up and took me outside, and without warning, he dumped me into a long horse water tank full of rain water. He handed me half of the remains of the nightgown, for me to wash off with. The other half he used to dry me off. The water was cold, but it soothed some of the burning of my welts and whip cuts. Hurley carried me back into the smoke house, and helped me get dressed. He put some wood in the smoke house stove, and it heated up the room quickly.. leaving the stove door open so the smoke could go up the chimney, we laid down on a blanket he had brought and were soon fast asleep.  By morning, I was recovering somewhat. I had feeling back in my hands again. My whole body ached,, and my pussy was still twitching. By that afternoon, I was able to ride my bike. It now being Sunday, I had to get home as I promised to my parents. The jacket I wore covered my wrist burns, and bruises. So I would be OK to get into the house. As it turned out, my folks were thankfully gone when I got home, so I headed for the shower, and got my hair presentable. Then I dug out some long sleeved tops which would cover my wrists while healing. Hurley and I became good friends, to say the least, although we still never fucked, and we never went back out in the country to the Smoke House.  It just seemed like over kill to do so.  But over the years in High School, we did disappear into the woods, to do some bondage play. He really liked to tie me to a tree and whip my naked back, then turn me around and whip my naked front,, especially my tits.  Hurly was like a dog who had gotten into the chicken house, and ate live chickens.  Hurley now had the blood lust,, and would be a true Sadist the rest of his life. As for me, I learned to crave these sessions, in fact I could never climax unless I had severe pain in my breasts, even if I was just masturbating on my own with office type black spring binder clips, called Binder Clips, all over my body and especially all over my breasts and pussy. I soon discovered that they really hurt MORE when you “pulled” them off. So I started to get more creative with ideas for the use of these clamps. That is how the “Skillet Pull” developed. I cut two five foot and one ten foot long lengths of strong cord, and then stuffed about three inches of  one end of each of the three cords into the inside of an empty medicine bottle, and filled it up with water. Then I put the whole thing in a Zip Lock bag, and hid it in the back/bottom of our chest freezer in the basement to freeze solid for my next creative use. I had obtained three keyed alike padlocks, and three lengths of lightweight chain. I tied one of the padlock keys to the ten foot cord right up close to the outside the medicine bottle full of ice. Now my time lock was ready. Then I took twenty five of those black medium size spring clips, and tied a six foot strong cord to one handle of each one. Taking the other ends of all the strings, I collected the ends of the strings together and then tied them all into one big common knot.  I hung them in the back of my bedroom closet, hidden inside of one of my long nightgowns, ready to use. Now I was ready for the next opportunity when I knew my folks were gone for some period of time. I got my opportunity when my folks left one Sat morning to the nearby larger city to do some extensive Christmas shopping and then planned to eat dinner there with some of their friends in the city. They would not be back till late that evening. Then I got loaded up to bike out to the old empty barn. I had been wet the whole night before, knowing this was going to be my opportunity,, it just got worse as soon as their car went out of the driveway. I waited an hour to be sure they would not pop back in for something they forgot, then I got out all my preparations.   Bringing up the Ice Lock from the freezer in the basement I put it in a small cooler to keep it cold, and I picked up the heaviest cast iron skillet from under the stove in the kitchen, I took it all in back pack and headed out to the old barn.. I quickly tied one end of the one 5 foot ice lock cord to a hoist hook in the barn which had been used to lift hay bales into the hay loft.  I also attached to the hook the long 10 foot end which had the key attached near the ice lock, and I laid the cord out on the floor where I could reach it later.  I took another 5 foot cord from the ice lock, and tied the heavy skillet up pretty close to the ice lock.  The heavy cast iron skillet was now suspended to the ice lock.  I took another long length of the heavy cord, tied it to the knotted end of all the cords connected to the twenty five spring clamps,, and ran the cord up through hoist hook, and back down and tied it to the handle on the cast iron skillet. The spring clips were now connected to the iron skillet, and when the ice lock melted, the skillet would fall and land between my wide spread legs, pulling the cords to the twenty five spring clips along with it, with one powerful jerk. I tossed the group of spring clips onto the floor. I tied two longer ropes to two widely spaced posts which supported the hay loft, and brought them close together on the floor, the put loop knots in each of the rope ends, so the loops were about 8 feet apart. I put a large block of wood, where I could lay my hips on it, then sat down on the floor of the barn. I then used the two of the smaller chains and paddle locks to chain my ankles to the rope loops, which stretched my legs widely towards the barn posts on either side of me. Then I put the end of one chain around my left wrist and paddle locked it to that wrist. I then raised myself up and backed up so my butt was raised up on the block of wood, and laid back on the dirt floor of the barn, with my pussy thrust high up in the air, and the ropes now pulling tightly on my wide spread legs. Now I had to quickly get into the rest of my bondage before the ice lock had too much time to melt. I figured I had about an hour at the most before the skillet rope would release, as well as the key would release. Now the pain would start, as I began putting each of the fifteen of the spring clips on my body.  I put ten on my breasts, two on each side of each breast, and then one on each nipple.  Now I was really beginning to shake and sweat.  Then on my pussy, I put two end to end on each of my pussy lips,, and the last one on my clit. By now I was already crying from the pain, I scattered the rest of the clamps all over sensitive skin all over my body.  I put my left wrist with the paddle lock and chain on it, and raising my hips up off the block or wood, I ran the chain under my butt through the crack of my ass and then ran the chain up between my legs through my pussy lips, to my right wrist above my pussy. There I tightly shortened up the chain, then wrapped the chain around my right wrist and locked it with my last lock.  Now I was totally helpless, to wait for the ice time lock to release. When it did, it would release the heavy cast iron skillet, which was attached to all twenty five of my spring clamps on the front of my body and pussy and thighs.  I could only wait,, and of course, play with my pussy.  BOY DID I PLAY WITH MY PUSSY ! ! ! After about ten minutes,, I was shaking like a leaf with excitement and fear,, and fingering my pussy and clit like crazy.  I could not stand the suspense,, I finally began using the other hand under my ass, raising up and started fingering my asshole,, finally getting three fingers clear in to my ass hole.  I was humping up and down, and the chain between my legs was adding to the pain as the links were riding back and forth on my pussy and clit with each movement. I was soon climaxing like a machine gun.  And just like with the crucifixion, my the masochist needs of my body was taking over all control of my actions. It seemed like it was hours of pain and waiting. As my ability to climax slowed, down, I got panicky. I knew if I could not stay sexually aroused, that the pain of the clips would get worse, and, that the inevitable, and totally unavoidable now, jerk of all the clips off my body when the heavy cast iron skilled dripped, would really kill me with pain. I tried to think, I have to slow down, so I can stay aroused, not climax soo much,, keep myself going, but not so fast. Suddenly the ice lock let loose of the string ends it held capture.  The skillet dropped, then stopped in a few inches,, the string to the skillet from my clamps had gotten tangled with the key on the other string,, and that key string had not released from the ice yet. The suspense was driving me crazy. Not only had the skillet only dropped a few inches, but my key was up there in that snag as well. But I knew the ice lock would release the key string soon too, very soon.   My breathing was in panic,, my heart was pounding,, and my fingers were now AGAIN desperately working on my clit, pussy and ass hole,,, one minute passed, then two, then three. I was NO LONGER worrying about waiting on my climaxes, I was pumping my clit and ass as hard as I could.  Then it happened. The last string with the key let loose, and the skillet cord came loose, and the skillet began its drop to the floor of the barn, 10 feet below.  It was like watching slow motion as the skillet dropped faster and faster,,, but then the cords went taunt, and the spring clips began popping off my skin,, first the ones on my arm pits,, since those strings were stretched the farthest, then those on my breasts, nipples, and as a last massive slam of pain, the five on my pussy all were RIPPED OFF at one time. It felt like my whole pussy area had been blasted with a hot blow torch of pain. My body went into convulsive climaxes,, and I was screaming for the next five minutes.. It had worked.  IT HAD REALLY WORKED ! ! !   The ice lock worked, and the skillet had dropped to the floor, JERKING off all twenty five of those mean binder clips. And my body had been launched into orbit… It took me a half hour to begin to slow down the convulsions and climaxes, not to mention my breathing, by which time my fingers had made both my ass and pussy raw with constant stimulation trying to keep the climaxes going. I made a mental note of improvements I needed to make next time I did this. One I needed to set up some kind of staged pain, so there would be a new release every five minutes.  More skillets, more clips. Two, I needed to have a blindfold so I could not see what was happening.  Three, I needed a gag so I would feel even more helpless. I finally got hold of the 10 foot string, and managed to pull the key down to the floor where I could unlock all my bondage locks, then started to clean up the mess. Fourth? ,,,, Maybe an electric shock device inside my pussy. Hurley and I never did the crucifixion thing together again, at the smoke house, and after High School, he went off to college. But a few years later a new sexy friend, an older man, who I told about the story of the Smoke House, and my barn trick with the spring clips, took me out there to see it. The smoke house had been torn down, apparently to salvage the bricks, so we went into the old barn and did a crucifixion scene, with whipping. It was not as intense, and only lasted about 5 hours, but it was very exciting, and this time I DID get fucked, by a cock, not a broom handle. I am now married to that older man. I am now 33, and have been on a crucifixion cross several times, at a local BDSM club in a larger city nearby in our earlier years of marriage, but then my husband built me a crucifixion cross in our basement. We now often put on crucifixion scenes to break in new girls who want to try this. Crucifixion is, and always will be, the heart of my sex life. It is in my mind every time I climax.  Just looking at any 'T shaped' cross makes my pussy get soaked and twitching and I can feel my heart beat in the throbbing in my nipples.

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Erudite2Rule
 
 Age: 22
 Walker, Louisiana