You ever see a pregnant girl and wonder if she begged for him to put a baby in her or was she on all fours when he came deep inside her?

I just had a dream that I remember. In the dream I finally give in to my nature and take a girl for a slave. I'm a married family man, so dreams don't take that into account, or do they...

So I totally dominate her as a sex slave and she's hooked. To the point she's now in my home and has decided to do the same to other girls. I come back from being out and find 3 other girls tied up after being knocked out, naked. At first I'm shocked and I'm thinking I'm getting in trouble for this sometime. But then my cock throbbed and I tried to resist but I started in on one. They woke up surprised, but then wanted my cum. The first girl saw the others wake up and while I was busy and showed them what I was doing and untied them. Now all these girls are not tied down, but still bound and the wrists and ankles. I cream the girl and then I noticed the others. Instinct told me they were turned on. That was apparently all I needed. I went after another. After she had a few orgasms I decided I was hungry. So I got dressed to get fast food. All the girls got dressed to go with me. What they dressed in got me all hard again. It was normal cloths but attractive. They saw the look in my eye and got naked with me. My wife apparently was in on it at this time and got us food while I creamed another. Then she mentioned she was going to help me to my daughter. Daughter looked over at the girls and asked her, "like them?" No other words were spoken and that's exactly what happen. She got naked and lined up. Apparently I wanted to do the best doggie style so I studied pussies from that position on all fours including my wife. I bred the rest like that.

Then I woke up at 2am and had one big cum with the idea that I had plenty of different types of women including my wife to cream into.

Help so I’ve been fucking four girls on rotation since split with my ex the sex was special and she’d cum every time so passionate, but lately I’ve been on a slutty rampage fucking these girls but the problem is because my ex was Indian and had 2 ex her pussy was prestigious and she always wore sexy underwear  now these other girls are 5/6 out of ten and fairly bigger that my normal type so I’ve not been able to get fully hard…but me being me has been destroying them on jelly viagra and not cuming for ages they all give me 10/10 rating and all claim I’m there man but I’ve had enough now I’m over my ex and being a man slut and just want to focus on me but these girls are fully hooked. 

Leechburg Pennsylvania male near Pittsburgh pa looking for couples or female to visit me very soon and will do cocaine for a whole weekend or entire week plus. Endless fish scale quality powder and chronic blunts of flowers. Let's see who is unafraid to accepting this open invitation for whoever travels short or far. Last sinful session was beginning of Dec. Four days with new neighborhood both only 22. Thick white females with big soft 40in plus 😝 preferably and natural breasts too but athletic petite girls are good to cover toned stomach. Interracial couples are the best with black hubby's shaft long and girthy 

This is the true story as to how I discovered my kinky self.

Part 1:
It was the summertime in a small town just outside London, England. My best friend at the time was a girl the same age that lived just down my street, we’ll call her Alison to protect her identity!
Alison and I used to cycle out to the forest on those long, hot summer days and just wander about exploring the trees and the sun dappled glades. We talked and giggled together as we lay on our backs watching the little white clouds floating through the summer sky between the green branches.
One Friday afternoon, when I needed to pee she asked if she could watch …
“I’ve never seen a boy pee!” she giggled.
I remember being a little bit shocked. Going to the toilet was something that was done in private. Every other time we’d been to the forest together, I used to walk away from where we were sitting to pee and she had always done the same. I didn’t quite know what to say, so I sort of blurted out …
“You can watch me, if I can watch you!”
“OK!” she immediately said, “Are you going to go right now?”
I stood up and walked to the edge of the clearing and towards a large oak tree. She followed. I unzipped my shorts and took my myself in my hand, as she squatted down right next to my right leg. Her clear blue eyes were wide open as she stared at me, then she glanced up and caught my eyes with a very naughty little smile on her face.
“Is that what you wee out of!”, she whispered, “I want to see it come out!”
I was desperate to pee, but I couldn’t. I shut my eyes tight to pretend that her face wasn’t 12 inches from my cock and tried really hard to relax. She didn’t say a word, but I could hear her breathing slightly faster than usual as the cool breeze gently caressed me.
After what seemed an age, my bladder finally responded, and I let out a stream of golden piss arcing up towards the old oak tree. I opened my eyes and looked down at Alison, her eyes wide and mouth open as she stared at what I was doing right in front of her face. Finally, my stream slowed and the last few drops dripped out and with a quick shake my willy was back in my pants.
Alison’s face was slightly flushed, her eyes and mouth still wide …
“Wow” she said, “That’s amazing!”
“Your turn now,” I said quietly, “I showed you mine, it’s your turn to show me yours!”
She giggled embarrassed and stood up next to me. She fumbled with the button and the zip on her blue denim shorts and slowly pulled them down and stepped out of them. She was wearing little white cotton panties underneath which I just stared at as I sat cross-legged on the forest floor next to her.
She looked down at me, suddenly unsure of herself.
“I’m scared!” she whispered, “this is so naughty”.
“You said you’d show me if I showed you,” I said back, “I showed you mine, now you should show me yours, we made a deal!”
“I’ll show you how I pee if I can keep my knickers on!”
I was just so curious and felt all warm and weird inside that I agreed.
“Go on then, show me how girls pee.”
Standing above me, she spread her legs so I could look up at the clean white cotton stretched between her legs. Suddenly, a dark patch appeared and a couple of drips of pee came through. I was absolutely fascinated as the blood rushed to my head. All of a sudden, her stream of piss surged through the cotton almost splashing right into my lap … the stream stopped … then with a loud hiss, burst forth again, splattering me in her hot yellow stream.
She giggled, grabbed her shorts and quickly pulled them back on, then ran off in the direction of our bikes and with that she was gone. I remember vividly, just sitting there thinking about those white cotton panties and how they became almost see through as she peed onto me, remembering that hiss as her pee escaped her loins and it made my heart beat fast and the blood rush around my body faster than ever before.
It took me a while before I was able to ride back home; all the time thinking about how much I wanted to see Alison again. But, I had to go and visit family over the weekend, so I knew it would not be until next week until we could meet again.
All weekend all I could think about was the look on her face and the pure excitement in her eyes as she had watched me piss, about her white cotton panties and the way her wet patch spread between her legs and about that hissing sound, that delicious hissing sound that accompanied her strong stream of wee as it arced into my lap!
Those memories are still as vivid with me now as they were on that summer’s afternoon and really have made me who I am today!
To be continued …

Part 2:
That weekend could not go quickly enough, but soon enough it was the Monday and I popped round to Alison’s house to see if she was coming out to play. It turned out that she couldn’t get those memories out of her head either, so we both grabbed our bikes and headed out to the forest as fast as we could. I’d packed my rucksack with four big bottles of water as I knew that a repeat performance would be on the cards, and as soon as we got to our favourite secluded clearing we stretched ourselves out in the sunshine and started drinking.
“Do you have to pee yet?” she asked straight away.
“I will do soon.”
“Can I watch you again?” she giggled and her bright blue eyes stared deep into mine.
“You can watch me, if I can watch you.”
Alison looked intently into my eyes for what seemed an eternity and then said,
“I’ve been thinking about this all weekend, I think I can take my knickers off first this time.”
“Oh … wow …” I stammered, feeling all hot and flushed. I had no idea at the time how to describe those feelings as the little butterflies started in my belly and my heart began to pound a little faster.
“I’d love to see you pee” I eventually admitted.
“Well, I’m ready now!” she blurted out and jumped to her feet. “Come over here!”
She ran off to that big oak tree at the edge of the glade and quickly pulled her blue denim shorts off.
I hesitated …
“Come on! I need to pee right now!” she shouted at me.
Slowly, I got to my feet; my head a little dizzy. I walked over to her as she pulled those little white cotton panties down her thighs, over her knees and then kicked them off. She leaned back against the huge tree trunk and spread her legs as wide as she could as I slowly sat down right in front of her.
Almost immediately, I heard that amazing hiss and a strong stream of pale yellow pee emerged from between her legs, first landing right in my lap, then arcing up my t-shirt and then splashing right in my face. She laughed as she continued to drench me as I just sat there listening to that hissing; watching the stream coming right at me; feeling the hot piss drenching me; smelling her piss on my face and tasting it on my lips. I opened my mouth just a little to catch it on my tongue and my head spun like never before. All the sensations were absolutely amazing and I just sat there dumbstruck as she giggled at me.
“Oooops!” she giggled, “you’re soaked!”
I looked down and my t-shirt was soaked, as were my shorts.
“You’ll have to take those off and dry them in the sun,” she suggested, cheekily.
It was a good plan, I had to admit. So, we wandered back to the middle of the glade and I undressed in front of her and laid my saturated clothes out in the hot summer sun.
Alison came and sat very close to my now naked body.
“I’ve been thinking all weekend about this”, she whispered, “you can put these on.”
She passed me her white cotton panties with a cheeky little smile; and, as I couldn’t think of a good reason why not to, I grabbed them off her and put them on.
“Stand up!” she ordered, “I want to see what you look like in them.”
She stared at me with a weird faraway look in her eyes as I stood before her and gave her a little twirl. I remember just how damn good I felt standing there in girls’ panties in front of her that day, a feeling I still get even to this very day every time I pull on a pair of panties!!
“Do you need to pee yet?” her voice interrupted my sensations.
“Ummm … yes … I think so.”
“I want you to pee in my panties!”
“What!! Really!??!” I was shocked.
“Your pants are full of my pee,” she laughed, pointing to where they lay in the sunshine, “so my knickers should be full of yours!”
“OK”, I stammered, “I think I need to pee now.”
And with that I just let emptied my bladder into her panties right there in front of her. No delay, no thinking about it, my bladder just burst into her little cotton undies.
“Wow, that’s amazing!” she shrieked, before reaching up to touch me through the sodden cotton.
“Take them off!” she ordered.
I did as I was told.
“Give them to me!”
Again, I did as I was told.
She took her little panties from my hand and held them up to her face. I could hear her sniffing them.
“Mmmmmmm … they smell nice.”
Then she said:
“What does boy pee taste like?”
And she put a little bit of her panties into her mouth.
A puzzled look flashed across her face, before she looked right up at me and stuffed the whole garment into her mouth.
I was absolutely shocked!
“Urrrrgggghhhh!” I exclaimed, that’s my pee, that’s dirty!”
“But it tastes nice,” she said with a mouthful, “I’m sure it’s ok if it tastes nice?”
It was half question, half statement. I just stood there staring at her as she pulled her panties from her mouth and held them up to me.
“Go on, you taste too,” she giggled again, “tell me if it tastes good.”
I instantly remembered how amazing it felt to taste her pee in my mouth, so I took them from her and slowly put them into my mouth. She was right, it did taste good; but all of a sudden a rushing burst of complete embarrassment hit me and I pulled them out and threw them back at her.
“This is wrong!” I blurted. “It’s naughty. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“But I like it and it’s fun”, she giggled. “It can just be our little secret.”

To be continued ...

Pauline The Slut - Part 42: No Escape  
 

It was raining when I woke the next morning and everyone was in the lounge relaxing. I joined them after breakfast. After an hour or so, my husband switched on the big screen. We all turned and watched as Anne and her daughters appeared on the screen. It was the video from the previous night showing Anne and the Girls revealing their sexual history followed by the four of them making love. Then the video moved to a scene of Hannah in the shower, masturbating. 
 

 My husband called Hannah over. He turned her so that she faced the screen and then had her lower herself on to his cock. They both watched her on the screen as she bounced up and down on his cock. My father called Debbie over and had her do the same. Then Donal beckoned Linda to him. 
 

 Beth handed a strapon to my Mother and one to Therese. Therese called me over and had me face the screen and lower myself onto the dildo. Anne had to do the same with my Mother's strapon. There were now five of us bouncing up and down while everyone watched the screen. 
 

 Therese grabbed my breasts and dug her nails into them. I cried out as she continued to push her nails in to the soft delicate flesh. She then pinched my nipples hard and pulled on them so that they extended out from my breasts. She continued to abuse my breasts as we watched the screen. All the time I was forced to fuck myself on her strapon. 
 

 For the next 60 minutes the video showed scenes from the previous few days showing one, two, three or all four of Anne and her daughters in various sexual acts. It was only them. No one else appeared in the video. There was no sign of coercion. It looked as if they were all having a good time. Anyone watching the video would believe that they were a family of incestuous sluts. 
 

 The four of them were distraught watching the video. Hannah was sobbing and Anne looked more defeated than she had been the previous night. They realised that their futures were now in the hands of my husband and the worst was yet to come. They would have no choice but to obey him no matter how perverted his demands.  
 

 When the video finished, he dumped Hannah on the floor and urinated on her. She tried to crawl away but her grandfather stood in her way and pissed on her. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head up so that he was pissing directly into her face.  
 

 When he'd finished, my husband and him left us laughing as they went. Therese pushed me to the floor beside Hannah. "Lick the piss off her" she demanded. I turned to Hannah and licked her face, her neck working my way down her body. As I was licking across her stomach Donal came over and stood beside Therese. He then urinated on Hannah and me. "Keep licking slut" Therese instructed. 
  

 Donal moved to above Hannah's head. "Open your mouth". Hannah obediently opened her mouth and accepted Donal's piss. "That's a good slut, swallow my piss." Hannah grimaced as she swallowed his urine.  
  

He turned towards Anne "Do you need to piss?" he asked her. She looked at him in horror. "No." she cried. 
 

He bent over Hannah and grabbed a chunk of her breast around the nipple and started to lift her off the ground. She  screamed and struggled to get to her feet. The wet floor made it difficult and she slipped as he pulled her along the floor towards the twins rooms.  
  

"Stop" screeched Anne above Hannah's screams. We all looked at her as she walked towards Hannah. Donal and Therese looked at each other and smiled.  

 
Anne crouched over Hannah's head and we all watched as her piss struck Hannah's face full on.  
  

"Open your mouth slut." Donal demanded. Soon Hannah's mouth was overflowing with her mother's piss.  
  

When they'd finished Donal told all of us to get cleaned up before lunch and to come to lunch in high heels, suspenders, stockings and nothing else. 

Pauline The Slut - Part 41: Exposure  
  

I spent that night with my father and sister. He enjoyed using his two daughters. The next morning the twins arrived into the room and took Anne away. My father became very aroused watching Anne head downstairs with the twins. He grabbed my hair and forced me down to his cock. He pushed his cock all the way down my throat on his first thrust and fucked my throat non-stop. I fought and struggled thinking he was going to choke me but he didn't care. He pounded away at my throat until he finally came. My throat had never suffered so brutally before. 
 

 He showered and dressed as I recovered from his assault. It was late morning before I headed downstairs. There was no sign of Anne or her daughters in the house or on the beach. Everyone else was on the beach. After lunch, Donal took me upstairs and spent the afternoon fucking my holes. 
  

 Again there was no sign of Anne or her daughters at dinner. The twins served dinner as normal. We all settled down in the lounge after. One of the twins, dressed in a red leather jump suit came out and set up two cameras. Then the second twin, dressed identically, arrived followed by Anne, Linda, Debbie and Hannah. They all wore extremely short summer dresses of different colors. 
  

 Anne ran to my husband, fell to her knees. "Please don't make us do this" she begged. One of the twins grabbed Anne by the hair and dragged her back to her daughters. She slapped Anne hard across the face. "Do that again and you won't ever see your daughters again" she hissed. 
  

 Anne stood before one of the cameras surrounded by her daughters all looking into the camera. Anne spoke "I'm Anne and these are my daughters. I'm 53 and have been married for 26 years. I lost my virginity when I was 17. It was on my prom night with my date Freddie at the house of a friend of his. When he finished, his friend came in and fucked me. I tried to stop him but I was too drunk to put up much of a struggle. Then someone else came in and fucked me. The next morning I woke up to the friends father fucking me. I tried to fight him off but he slapped me across the face a few times and pressed all his weight down on me. I cried as he fucked away." 
  

 "When did you give you first blow job." one of the twins asked. 
 

 "It was at college. I was 19. I didn't swallow the first few times but then my boyfriend forced me to. I've swallowed ever since." 
 

 She was then asked about her first lesbian experience. "That was also at college with my roommate. It started in our second year and continued until we graduated." She was quizzed on her sexual activity for the next 15 minutes, how often she masturbated, how she masturbated, her fantasies, her favourite positions and her affairs.  
 

 The shock on her daughters faces when they learned of her affairs particularly Hannah when she heard that one of them was with the father of her best friend. 
 

 It was then Linda's turn. Anne listened in disbelief as she told us that her first sexual experience was when she was 12. She was on her way home from school when a man stopped her and brought her into his house. She was forced to take off her clothes and suck his cock. He threatened to kill her sisters if she told anyone. For the next two years until she went to High School he fucked her in the cunt and ass, took photos and filmed her. Sometimes she was used by one or two of his friends. She was then questioned about her other sexual experiences. 
 

 Next was Debbie. Her first time was when she was 16 with Donal. Everyone looked at Donal who had a grin on his face. She explained how when they visited us Donal walked in on her in the shower and forced her on to her hands and knees before fucking her from behind. Every time she had a shower Donal would somehow unlock the door and fuck her. She was quizzed about her sexual activity since then. 
 

 Then Hannah spoke, her only activity was limited to masturbation until she arrived at the house a few days earlier. She was then told to strip and show us how she masturbated. Her embarrassment was immediate but she did not hesitate in removing the dress, lying on the floor and masturbating. 
  

 Whatever the twins had done to Anne and the girls had made them very willing to expose themselves completely. We watched as Hannah brought herself to orgasm. Anne removed her dress and joined Hannah on the floor, kissing her and caressing her body before working her way down her body and eating her pussy. She was joined by Linda and Debbie and soon the four of them were writhing around the floor devouring each others bodies. The twins filmed the four of them ensuring to capture their love making completely.  
  

 After 30 minutes of watching the incestuous lesbian scene my husband, father and son joined them. The four women turned their attention completely to the men. They gave themselves to pleasuring them every way they could. I watched in awe as Hannah, without any prompting got down between my husband's legs and pushed her tongue into his asshole while Debbie took his cock in her mouth.  
  

When the men finished my mother, Beth and I joined them on the floor.  

Maggie's imprisonment Part II

The went down many stairs to an area that was lit by electric lights. Then they went through a doorway and went down another set of stairs to an area that no electric lights at all. The only light came from a torch in the hand of one of the men.     They went down a long flight of stairs and ended up in a long hall way with doors lining both sides. They took her to one of the doors and threw the door open. "Welcome to your cell, Maggie," one of the men said.    Although Maggie's cell was completely devoid of light, she had gotten a very good look at it when she had first been chained up. The room was about 3 meters deep and about 2 meters wide. The ceiling was about 3 meters high. There were no windows at all and the only door to the cell was made of solid iron. The walls were made of large stone blocks, held together with old mortar. There were no modern conveniences in the cell. No electric lights, no running water, no toilet. There were no creature comforts either. No bed, no chair, not even a pile of straw to lay on.
The one thing the cell did possess was shackles. Four heavy and shining shackles to be exact. Two shackles hung from the upper part of the wall opposite the cell door, they were passed through huge metal rings, which were fixed in it. The shackles were separated in this way for app. 60 cm. Two other shackles were attached at the lower part of the wall, their chain passed only through one ring. The shackles were opened, with a joint at the side of the connection to the chain. They positioned Maggie directly beneath the shackles, her back to the wall.    
Then they uncuffed her wrists, they were hurting after being mistreated the whole time. The skin was bruised and swollen. Maggie's right arm was raised to the dangling shackle pulling it down, until the other shackle hit the metal ring with out loud clanking sound. They wrapped the metal shackle around her wrist, and pressed it firmly together. It closed with a clicking sound and fitted tightly around her narrow wrists, pressing firmly in the bruised skin there.     Maggie looked at her slightly upraised arm. She saw the shackle locked around her wrist. As the men walked to her left side, she gently shook her raised arm.     The iron chain rattled gently in response.     Suddenly the movement of her left arm brought her attention to her left. It was raised over her head to the other shackle which was pulled down. The rings were fixed very high und the shackle’s chain was short, show she was lifted up to stand on her forefeet. She watched with sick fascination as the shackle was locked down around the left wrist. It was just as tight as the right shackle was. The sounding of its closing mechanism was clearly audible for everyone.     Maggie was standing on her forefeet like the letter Y with her arms chained in the air. She looked at her upraised arms one last time and she became aware of the captors kneeling in front of her. She heard the shackles at her feet moving and she looked down. They uncuffed her ankles, then took one shackle, wrapped it around her right ankle and locked it the same way like the others. This ankle shackle was even tighter than the wrist shackles, pressing ugly in the damaged skin. It hurt like hell, and she began to tremble. She noted that there was an obvious distance between the last open shackle and her left ankle that still was free. When they pulled this shackle down, the locked shackle started to torture her right ankle severely and she had to lift herself upon her toes. Only now the men were able to lock also the last shackle.
They had finished their work, they lifted up and went back. They seemed to be satisfied with the results. Maggie was moaning intensely, because her body stretched and the tight shackles biting in her wrists and ankles.
One of the men said: “These shackles are really tight, aren’t they? Well, that’s the way all the prisoners here are treated. You will get used of them after a while. The locks are closed permanently, so you won’t never get free again.Maggie understood now what has happened: These strangers have fixed her body at this wall in this nasty cell in a painful way, she never won’t be able to get free by herself and no one will find her here down in this hidden dungeon. This was insane! She started to scream until one of the men hit her in her face. Then she felt in silence. In her head a strange mood emerged, it seemed that she separated her mind from her body.
    Maggie closed her eyes, expecting to feel something. Anything. Maybe he was about to place a blindfold over her eyes. Maybe he was about to inflict some type of painful stimulus. But there was nothing but the sound of the door closing behind her. Maggie opened her eyes to look, but with the torch gone from the room, she truly realized how totally dark the cell was. Undeterred, Maggie tried to look behind her best she could, but with absolutely no light in the room, she saw nothing.     Although she could see nothing, she could still hear. She heard the sound of the iron door closing behind her. She heard the sound of a deadbolt lock being thrown closed. Then she heard the sound of a large sliding lock being engaged. Finally, she heard was could only the sound of a large iron bar being lowered over the door.    Three locks made certain that the door would never open from the inside.    Then there was nothing but silence in the cell.    And that was it. Maggie was chained up. A 21st century woman chained in a 13th century dungeon cell. These huge shackles around Maggie's wrists and ankles held onto Maggie just as tightly today as they had done for years. Times and technology may have changed, but the shackles were just as effective on Maggie as they had been on girls in days gone by. He whole body was stretched by standing on her toes.
    Maggie would experience three phases of captivity during these first twenty hours.  The first phase began only a few seconds after the door was closed. Once Maggie realized she was alone, naked, and chained in a room that there was no way she could leave, pure terror overcame her and she began screaming.     She screamed at the top of her lungs. She screamed for help. She screamed obscenities. She screamed out all manners of words. She screamed out noises. She shook the chains that kept her arms stretched up. She shook the chains that kept her legs shackled to the floor. She shook them with all the strength that she had. She screamed out pleas for help. She screamed out curses and threats. She literally screamed until she totally lost her voice. Every inch of her naked body became covered in sweat as she exerted all of her strength in an attempt to break her bonds. Her mussels began to cramp, especially in the calves.    That was the first hour of her captivity. A panic attack. A mental breakdown.    Absolute. Terror.    Her voice now silenced, the second phase began: crying. Silent tears fell as she first thought about her three children and her husband. She thought of friends and family members and coworkers. She thought of the Disney vacation the family had taken last year and how they had plans to save up enough money to go in another 3 years. She thought of her pet cat. She wondered if her family knew she was missing. She wondered if the police were searching for her. She wondered again where she was.    Tears flowed unobstructed, as her shackled hands made it impossible for her to wipe them away. Mucus began flowing from her nose. Salty tears didn't stop for three hours. That was the second phase.    The third phase was silence. She had no strength to shake her bonds. She had no voice to make noise. She had no more tears to weep. She stood there and thought about her predicament. She had no idea what the future had in store for her, but she figured it was bleak.     After 20 hours standing in chains, Maggie was exhausted, sore, aching. Maggie was defeated.     There was no way she could ever escape the cell, even if she could somehow remove the shackles that secured her hands high over her head and her bare feet to the wall. Her shoulders ached intensely, her hands and feet feel cold and numb now, there must be swollen. Her struggling against the shackles have damaged the skin at her wrists and ankles, because every movement of her hands and feet, including of her fingers and toes, is really painful. How long can she stand this? And what will happen if she remains shackled like this for the rest of her life.
There was absolute silence in the cell as Maggie held her breath and listened. She couldn't hear anything outside of her cell. For all she knew there was no world outside of the dungeon. There was just her, waiting, chained in Maggie's cell.

Chapter 3
This isn't a progressive prison. Quite the opposite. They aren't interested in rehabilitation, only punishment. As a result the guards carry a number of different weapons. Non-lethal but still damn effective. And they need to practice with them regularly. Your prescence offers them a unique opportunity to train using a person, rather than manniquins.
You're walked, naked, through the prison and out into the yard. During the walk your slutty fag body is seen by almost everyone. The prisoners taunt you and mock your tiny fucking clit. They promise that if they ever get their hands on you they'll rape you unconscious and cover you in the cum of real men.
Once in the yard you're hand cuffed to the chain link fence. Both wrists and ankles. Spread eagled. You're completely vulnerable. The warm sun offers a small amount of comfort.
The guards explain that they are going to practice their riot suppression techniques on your sissy body, beginning with nightsticks. They already know they can shove them up your boipussy whenever they want so instead they're going to beat you with them. They focus their attention on your titties. They're dying to know if the nice big implants Daddy bought you are as sensitive as real titties. It turns out they are. Repeated blows to your tits rain down. The pain is incredible. Your crying and begging for mercy has no effect on them. The bruising starts to set in immediately. Just when you think you'll pass out from the pain it stops.
The beating only stops because they're moving on to the next weapon, not because they give a damn about your suffering. The guards unholster their tasers and you realize what's in store for you next.
They each take turns shooting the electrified darts into your soft, girly, body and running the electricity through you. You dance and writhe in place. The pain is excruciating and yet your clit is growing. It has a mind of it's own and it's enjoying the humiliation, torture and pain. It knows this is what you crave. What you deserve.
The guards grow bored simply shooting the tasers at you and decide they should hook them directly up to your useless balls and run the electricity into you. The darts are stabbed into your sack and the trigger pulled. Hundreds of volts run through your pathetic balls and throughout your body. Over and over. Your cries only make them laugh. Your begging for mercy only makes them do it more and more. Eventually you lose control and piss yourself prompting howls of laughter. The humiliation makes you blush from head to toe. It also makes your cock start to grow again.
The next weapon to be unleashed is the bean bag shot gun. Bonus points are going to be awarded for anyone who hits your tits and even more points for hitting you in the clit and balls. There's a very brief conversation among the guards about the risk of doing permanent damage but it's quickly decided no one gives a damn. The first two shots hit your tits knocking the wind out of you. The third shot hits your throat making it almost impossible for you to scream anymore. After that each and every shot is aimed at your clit. Round after round smashes into your crotch. Each one feels like being kicked in the balls. Your legs go limp and you're left hanging by your wrists from the fence like a depraved piece of meat.
A bucket of ice cold water splashes over you, snapping you out of your stupor. You can barely feel your clit anymore. Your balls are swollen to the size of oranges.
The next weapon to be used is rubber bullets. They aren't utilized very often on the prisoners because of the damage they can do. No one cares about the damage they'll do to you.
Again, bonus points are available for hitting you in the tits and crotch. This time around the discussion about damage is a bit more serious. It's agreed a direct hit could destroy your balls. The consensus is that if that happens they'll take you to the prison doctor and have him remove your balls completely. They'll turn you into a total fucking eunuch.
The first couple of shots hit your thighs and stomach. the pain rips through you instantly. The swelling and bruising is also instant. As is the perverse enjoyment you're feeling. Your depraved mind has decided you both deserve and enjoy this treatment. As before, your clit starts to grow at the thought.
Inevitably two shots, in quick succession, hit your balls. Your screams can be heard throughout the entire prison before you fall unconscious.
It takes two buckets of ice cold water splashed over your limp body to revive you this time.
The guards examine your almost ruined clit and balls and decide the doctor can, probably, save them.
That being decided they go get the guards that ride horseback and oversee the prisoners working the farm.
Those guards need practice with their whips. They don't get to use them as often as they'd like so practice is always welcome and you're perfect for their needs.
You're unshackled from the fence and turned around, facing it, and reshackled. The two horseback guards flip a coin to see who goes first. The winner uncoils his 8 ft whip and begins swirling it in the air. With a quick flip of his wrist the whip leaps out and bites your ass. Your screams echo across the yard. Another swoosh and the whip crosses your back. Bright red welts form immediately. The burning sensation radiates out across your back. They start coming faster now. Most of them hit your thicc ass, making you dance and quiver and shake and scream. Eventually it becomes so intense you go numb. Your ass is on fire but now you simply accept that this is what you deserve because you're a sissy slut, pain whore.
After what seems like an eternity you're unshackled and turned around again. The bite of the cuffs into your wrists and ankles is inconsequential compared to the pain rushing through your ass and back.
The second guard begins his turn focused on your titties. Your plump, sensitive, titties feel the sting of the tip of the whip. He's incredibly accurate. Hitting your nipples over and over. They all laugh as you cry and beg him to stop. Instead they encourage him. They want to know if he can make you scream even louder.
He's confident he can. He says he doesn't want.to hit your ball because they're really close to being completely destroyed but he's sure can hit your clit.
Turns out he's right
The whip bites into your useless cock over and over.
Your screams carry for miles. As does their laughter. The worst part though, is that throughout the entire whipping, you cock has been seeping cum. And now that they are done they notice it for the first time.
It's then that they realize what they have on their hands.
Chapter 4
The fact that the prison is also a working farm results in some unique opportunities, and challenges, for the men working it.
The farm provides vegetables and meat for the prison.
It also provides sadistic guards with some creative ways to torture sissy sluts.
For example, the guards know your boipussy can take it deep, because they shoved a whole nightstick up your slutty ass, but they got to wondering how fat a zucchini they could stuff in your gaping hole before you passed out or ripped. Turns out the answer is 10 inches before you screamed so loud it could be heard miles away, and then you passed out. What confused them was that you seemed to be enjoying it up to that point.
They also discovered that your useless faggy body could be used to solve practical problems.
The prisoners were running into issues with fire ants in the soil they were working. The guards realized that you could be used as bait.
You were stripped naked, yet again, (At this point it was rare for you to have clothes on at all. Much quicker to rape you if you're already naked) and taken to the farm field. The walk past the prison yard was both humiliating and thrilling for you. So many men wanting to fuck your sweet little holes. Potentially so much cum for you to swallow or be covered by. So many hard cocks for you to suck. All you could ever want. And you wanted them all.
Just before the guards lead you outside the fence they tie your hands behind your back and put a collar around your neck. A rope is passed through the ring on the collar and handed to a guard on horseback. You can feel the hot sun making your big, fat, titties redder and redder.
The horse starts walking forward and you follow along behind. The rider picks up the pace and you have to start running a little to keep up. The heat and the running has you sweating and gasping.
The rider speeds up a bit more and you have to run hard to keep up. The guards in the truck following you, and rider are laughing at the way your clit is bouncing around as you run. They're also laughing at the way your titties are slamming up and down.
Again the rider speeds up. This time you can't keep up, you stumble and fall. They don't stop. You're being dragged through the dirt into the field. The rocks, gravel and dirt are scraping your titties and, especially, your clit. It hurts so good. You feel like an animal and deep down, much to your shame, you're enjoying it.
Just when you think you can't take anymore it stops.
You're in the middle of the field. The fire ant hill is mere feet away.
They flip you over and cut the rope around your wrists. The guards in the truck get out and rummage around in the back of the truck. They pull out four stakes, a length of rope and a hammer.
You lay, gasping, in the hot southern heat. The scrapes all over your body are on fire. Your clit is throbbing, both from the pain, and the shameful pleasure your feeling. Being exposed and used by these strong, cruel men is making you feel more and more like a sissy fucktoy. Completely empty of masculinity.
The guards have pounded the four stakes into the ground around you. Ropes are wrapped around your wrists and ankles and your stretched, spread eagled, as they tie them to the stakes. You're unable to move, except to wiggle a little. Your pathetic attempts at struggle make your clit flop around uselessly which elicits more laughter. They put a burlap bag over your head and tie a rope tightly around your neck to hold it in place.
The guards have been working quickly. They don't want to be swarmed by the ants, that's your role.
One of the guards grabs a long stick and, just for laughs, hits your clit with it, just ot hear you cry out, before heading toward the ant hill.
He begins poking the hill with the stick. The ants come swarming out and all the guards run for the truck. The guard on horseback takes off at a gallop.
The ants don't take long to find you. Crawling over your arms and legs they begin heading toward your scraped clit. Within seconds they've completely cover your useless clit and begin burrowing down into the shaft.
The guards are about a hundred yards away and yet they can hear you screaming, crying, pleading and begging for release. There's no help coming. You're at the mercy of the insects who are beginning to bite your useless cock and push their way into your sissy ass. It's so easy for them to crawl up your boipussy. It's been fucked so often lately it gapes. They march right up you effortlessly.
The intensity of the pain in your clit and ass has distracted you from the dozens of ants devouring your fat, soft titties.
They're everywhere. On you, in you. Using your useless fucking sissy fag body for their needs. As it should be. Your thicc, feminine, slut body exists only for the pleasure of others, and that includes insects.
Because you're a depraved pain slut your clit starts to grow, making it easier for the ants to enter you.
The guards can't believe you're getting hard. They're glad they decided to record the whole spectacle because otherwise no one would believe it. They can't wait to show it to everyone down at the bar.
Right about the time you start to pass out, from the pain and the exhaustion of screaming and crying non stop for almost an hour relief comes.
They need you alive. Damaged is fine but alive. A 2" hose sprays you with a deluge of cold water sending the ants flying. The hose is shoved into your pussy to flush them out. The Icy cold water shoots into your guts with incredible force.
A stick is pushed into the end of your still hard clit to kill the ants inside. The pain of the stick being jammed into your useless cock makes you finally pass out but not before you hear the guards say they can't wait to do this again with different insects.
Chapter 5
The sunlight through the infirmary window wakes you. You're not sure how long you've been there. You feel good though. There's no signs of the ant bites so you figure you've probably been there a few days.
When the nurse comes in you ask her a few questions. Turns out you've been there three days. They kept you sedated and medicated. That didn't stop the guards from occasionally coming in and sodomizing you anyway. Apparently you moaned like a little bitch even though you were almost completely unconscious.
The knowledge that they used your ass for their amusement and pleasure while you slept, without giving a damn if you enjoyed it, filled you with both shame and arousal. You were a human flashlight for three days, for god only knows how many cocks.
You notice that your skin seems softer and smoother. At first you thought it was because of the treatment for the ant bites. You ask the nurse about it. She says, no, they have, in fact, been pumping you full of hormones. She says she's never seen doses that large before. You lift the sheet and look at your cock. To your shock, surprise and shame it's even smaller than before. So are your balls.
You drift off back to sleep feeling more like a girl than ever before.
Chapter 6
Your recovery is progressing nicely after the ant torture. You've been given a break for a week.
The break consisted of only having to suck every cock put in front of you (dozens and dozens) and being fucked repeatedly, all day and night. Usually one at time but occasionally being gang banged. 6 or 8 cocks filling your boipussy with their hot cum. So much cum it would still be leaking out of you hours later.
It's pointless for you to put clothes on most of the time. When you are allowed clothes they are femmy as possible. Short skirts, crop tops that don't really contain your fat titties, garters and stocking and nothing else. Essentially, they dress you like a sissy slut whore.
At this point you're not even sure you remember your own name. You've been called everything but. Fucktoy, cumdump, meat puppet, whore, slut, faggot, sissy, girl, fuckface, useless, pain pig, ant girl, and a bunch more.
It's reached the point where you don't feel right if you're not sticky from cum or your boipussy is empty. It's come to feel completely natural to be impaled on a real man's cock.
Chapter 7
There's a problem down in the barns. One of the stallions is in heat and there's no mare to breed him to. It will be at least two weeks before they can get a mare in to breed with him. He's become damn near unrideable.
The guards have been discussing it and you're the solution. It's even decided that you are going to suck the stallion off. Some of the guards wanted to let it fuck you but.others were concerned it might destroy you. Not that they give a damn about you. They don't. They just want to keep you alive so they can continue to torture and use you. You're a slutty, depraved, amusement for them.
You're marched down to the barn. Almost every guard on staff has come along to watch and record the perverted spectacle. This is filling you with mixed emotions. It's completely humiliating to be forced to serve the sexual needs of an animal in front of a large crowd of people. On the other hand it's a dream come true to serve the sexual needs of an animal in front of a large crowd of people.
The stallion is walked out into the corral so that the guards will have a good view of your depraved cock sucking. They weren't kidding when they said he was horny. His cock is already getting hard and you haven't even touched it yet.
You drop to your knees beside the stallion and tentatively reach out for his growing cock. It's already 18 inches long and it's only half hard. Stroking it makes it grow quickly to its full 3 foot length. It's beautiful.
The guards are growing impatient. They're yelling for you to quit screwing around and start sucking.
You pull the massive cock to your lips and kiss it. Swirling your tongue around the tip produces pre-cum and the horse starts to settle. You stretch your mouth wide to take as much of the massive head as you can into your slutty mouth. To the surprise of the crowd you can get it in your mouth. Sucking as much as you can, tasting the musk, feeling the heat, hearing the guards calling you filthy names is all combining to turn you on. To your shame, and the amusement and disgust of the guards, your clit starts to grow.
A few more minutes of worshipping the big animals cock and you can start to feel it throb. No one has told you if you're supposed to swallow the cum. You decide that if you're going to be the best, most depraved piece of fuck meat you can possibly be, you should swallow.
With a loud grunt the horse begins to cum. So much hot cum gushes into your mouth. Too much to swallow. It shoots out of your mouth, out your nose an all over your tits. Sputtering, coughing and gagging, on your knees, in the dirt, covered in horse cum, in front of a crowd, you lose control and begin to cum too.
The guards howl with laughter and heap verbal abuse on you.
All you can do is hang your head in shame. And pure, perverted, satisfaction.
Chapter 8
You awaken the next morning, still flush with excitement and shame from yesterday's bestiality show.
The memory of your depravity, and the unbridled lust and perversion, makes your cock start to grow again.
You sucked off a horse in front of a large crowd. You savored its cum in your mouth. Your tits were coated in his hot, sticky jism.
Rather than being repulsed you realize you want more.
Unfortunately for you, today's plans don't include the animals.
There's a section of farm land that isn't draining properly and has become swampy. The prisoners don't want to go in and drain the water because it's full of leeches. That's where you come in.
The guards could bait the leeches with fresh pork but why waste good meat when they can use you.
Once again you're marched, naked through the prison and out to the road to the farm. The name calling and abuse as you pass the prisoners is as vile as ever. Rape threats, humiliating comments about your pathetic little cock, reminders that you are definitely not a man anymore. You're a faggy little sex slave for an entire prison and the people who run it.
As you walk through the fields with the guards, toward the swamp the hot sun beats down on your naked body. It occurs to you, and makes you blush, that you don't have to worry about tan lines.
As you approach the swamp you realize it's bigger than you imagined. There's got to be hundreds of leeches in it.
The guards tie your hands behind your back and order you to start walking into the water. You hesitate momentarily. The slash of a whip across your back gets you moving quickly.
Too quickly. You lose your footing in the thick mud, stumble and fall face first into the water.
Your struggles to turn over roil the water and stir up the mud, releasing the leeches and other bugs living there.
The guards yell at you to get further into the water and to get on your back with your legs spread. This time when you hesitate a rubber bullet is shot at you, hitting you square in the ass. The pain is excruciating and the swelling starts immediately. But you move.
You wade into the water and find a spot where you can submerge your body and still keep your head above water.
It only takes a couple of minutes for the leeches to find you.
At first it tickles as they begin to crawl over your naked, slutty, body.
Then they start to latch on. Initially it's on your thighs and stomach. Then it's your arms and tits.
Eventually they find your cock and your boipussy.
As the first one starts slithering up your cunt you realize they're not just going to use you externally. With your hands tied behind.your back there's no way for you to protect yourself.
There are a least a dozen on your titties. Biting and sucking on your nipples, areola, and soft tit meat.
You've lost track of how many have slipped inside your cunt. You can feel them working their way deep inside you. There's so many it feels like a cock. A live wriggling, biting, cock working deeper and deeper into you.
The assault on your cock distracts you from the damage being done to your boipussy.
At least three of them have worked their way into your urethra and have latched on. The pain is unbelievable and your screams and pleas for mercy echo across the swamp. All it gets is laughter and mocking from the guards. They remind you that you're nothing but meat and this is what meat gets used for.
For three long hours you lay in the water, a fucking plaything for insects. The heat and the loss of blood start to take a toll. Your head is getting light. It's about then that you realize that this is your destiny. A sex slave for vicious perverts. Rape meat for horny prisoners. A fucktoy for an entire barnyard full of animals. A piece of meat, so depraved and filthy that being sexually abused by insects, letting them destroy your ass and pathetic sissy cock, feels right.

Pauline The Slut - Part 39: MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 
 The others arrived back from shopping. The girls ran upstairs to try on their new outfits while my husband, mother and Anne came out to the beach. My husband looked down at Linda and smiled his appreciation. She sat up and tried to cover her body. 
 

 "Lie back down slut and spread your legs" he ordered. 
 

 She hesitated too long and my mother slapper her across the face. "Do what your told dear. It'll make life easier for everyone." 
 

 She lay back down and spread her legs. My husband took out his phone and took some photos. He then just stood there with the phone in his hand. My mother and I went to lie down while Anne went to talk to her daughter. 
 

 Some minutes later my husband's phone rang. "I thought you might like them. She's a pretty slut alright. Wait a moment, I'll ask her." he said to someone on the phone. 
 

 "Hey slut, what's your vital statistics" he shouted. She looked at my husband. Anne nudged her to answer. "31-26-31." 
 

 He went back to the phone. He then came over to Linda and handed her the phone. She took it off him and said "Hello." to the caller. 
  

 Whoever was at the other end surprised her. She recognised them. She looked open eyed at my husband who smiled back. She listened for several minutes before answering. "Yes, I would be very interested. I would love the part. Yes, I understand." She handed the phone back to my husband. 
 

 She excitedly spoke to her mother while my husband finished speaking with the caller. He then turned to Linda. "You can have the part in the show if I recommend you. For that to happen I demand you complete obedience while you're here. You will perform whatever I want with whoever you want including with your mother and sisters. Do you understand." 

 "Yes" she replied in a trembling voice. 

 "Get over here and suck my cock." 
 

 She made her way to my husband, got on her knees, removed his shorts and started to lick his cock before taking it into her mouth. He took off his shirt. She had been sucking for some minutes when he turned her around and had her face us on all fours. He positioned himself behind her and started fucking her. 
 

 He signalled to Anne to take off her clothes. When she was naked he instructed her to lie in front of Linda with her legs apart. He pushed Linda's head down into her mother's cunt and watched as she started to lick her slit. 
 

 We watched the scene before us. Mother, daughter and my husband. He pushed hard into Linda's cunt and started to cum. He withdrew from her cunt and had her turn around offering her cum filled cunt to her mother's mouth. As Anne sucked the cum from her daughter my husband grabbed Linda by the hair and pulled her from her mothers cunt and had her clean his cock. When finished she returned to her mother's cunt. 
 

 He sat back and with the rest of us watched the mother and daughter bring each other to a climax.  
 

 As they finished the three girls arrived in their new skimpy bikinis. They looked and giggled as Anne and Linda returned to their loungers. My husband called Debbie and Hannah over to him and put an arm around each. The three of them walked down to the water. 
 

My father lay down and had Anne mount him. Donal then positioned himself behind her and pushed himself into her ass. Ann winched with the pain. 
 
 
My father then had Linda lower her cunt onto his mouth. My mother joined them kissing Linda and caressing her breasts. I felt left out watching the five of them. My hand found its way to my cunt and I started to masturbate in time with the action in front of me. Therese spotted me and ordered me to stop. I looked on in frustration as my father and son came.  
 

As we headed back indoors my husband and girls returned from the water, they were all naked. 
 

 
https://motherless.com/GF9A7D13

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.