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Caroline had always fantasized about being crucified.
A guy has his fantasy of being crucified fulfilled.
Contract bondage and pride in a central Russian sex resort.
A female soldier is stripped and crucified.
A performance Artist in Soho is publicly stripped.
Bridgett our reporter was present to the newest Slavery Game.
A nude model takes a crucifixion pose for artists.
More fun at the Manor: Carole meets an exciting young couple
Young woman challenges young man to a crux contest.
Doree fulfills her desire for martyrdom.
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Crucifixion of a Woman
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By Leslie Parma

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An older, ugly man
stripped to the waist strode into the chamber. He was the
Quaestionarius, the Torturer. A cruel servant of the state, he was
grimy and sweaty from his toil in this den. Maria saw he was muscular
but with a large gut. Several smaller men, his assistants, were
already there similarly dressed in leather breeches, jerkins or
waistcoats. And there were three soldiers: the one who escorted her
and two others. As she stood there, trembling, other soldiers began
drifting in...
A tall man with a red
cape arrived. He was the Centurion, the leader of the soldiers who
had captured her. He grinned at her and somehow she knew he was her
mortal enemy. He made her blood run cold. He conferred with the
Quaestionarius and then they both looked at Maria. The Centurion
grinned at her again and Maria knew she was in for a terrible time.
She feared rape. As she snuck glances at these two men and then
allowed her eyes to drift to the others, she felt a tremor pass
through her body. The looks of lust she saw in their faces made her
shudder. She was in their hands now and knew that fate had delivered
to her a cruel ordeal. She knew she would be raped as well as
punished. She must be strong. The Torturer strode over.
“Until the Praetor
decides your fate, you belong to me, girl,” he said to Maria with a
wet grin.
“This is my domain,”
he said with a nod to the racks of instruments on the walls.
This made Maria wince.
She looked around and saw that there was no one there who would
intervene on her behalf. No one to protect her from the vultures,
wolves and hyenas that now surrounded her. And that is what started
to happen. As the Torturer stood next to her looking her up and down,
the men in the room started, as if by an unspoken signal, to form a
circle around Maria. All of them: the assistants, the soldiers and
even a few workmen.
“Drop your toga,”
the Torturer then said to her. “Take it off.”
Maria looked around and
knew she had no choice. Slowly, she lowered the strap on her right
shoulder and then pulled the toga down to her waist, exposing her
tits. Then she let it slide down further off her body to land in a
heap at her feet. Now, she was completely naked wearing only her
sandals. She was compactly built with full breasts and thighs and a
round bottom. She was moderately hairy between her legs and under her
arms. She tried to cover her tits and her hairy pubis, but the
Centurion slapped her hands away.

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Talbot Press has the best selling hardcore BDSM stories online. We feature 85 eBooks by Leslie Parma. Many think that Leslie is the best selling writer of extreme BDSM sex stories online.
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Torture Story … A Roman era story… Maria, a runaway female slave in ancient Rome, was punished by the authorities in the most cruel way known in the ancient world: first she was stripped, then sexually humiliated and raped. Next, she was flogged and finally crucified with a phallic shaped horn forced into her vagina. She writhed and struggled going up and down on the cross for hours in agony suffering additional torments forced on her by the soldiers before she was released. Occasionally crucifixion was used as a punishment as opposed to a death sentence.
Maria, a young, single Filipina, who lives in San Francisco, was fascinated by the ordeal of crucifixion. She wrote Leslie Parma, a writer of taboo sex stories, that she often masturbated thinking about crucifixion. Maria had come to the conclusion that unspeakable things happened to female victims of crucifixion: they were stripped naked, then sexually humiliated and molested before they were flogged and crucified.
Maria told the author that you had to read between the lines of the Catholic retelling of the biblical story. She saw crucifixion as a completely sexual torture ritual. She said, “I’ll bet the women were sexually abused and then raped before they were whipped. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m ashamed that I masturbate constantly thinking about it.”
Maria wanted the author to write a BDSM torture story with her as the heroine/victim who was crucified. Crucifixion of a Woman is the result. Not for the squeamish.
Warning: This is a Talbot Press Private BDSM Fantasies novelette. This hardcore BDSM story features extreme graphic representations, explicit language, forced sex and torture. Each character is at least 18 years of age.
TALBOT PRESS - Hardcore BDSM eBooks since 2013
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Caroline had always fantasized about being crucified.
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Author's Note: This story is one of a series I've been working on. The premise is that there exists a private club, known as the "Villa di Dolore", dedicated to assisting its members in playing out their kinky fantasies. Each of the stories follows a member or members through a scene. A number of the stories have been posted elsewhere under my other pen name of "von Hentzau". And, now that I have your attention, may I mention that my first novel length work, "The Club on Dorado Cay", is available as an e-book from www.bdsmbooks.com. -----Aubrey Wylde
On the morning of the day she had scheduled Caroline presented herself before the Master of Punishments. It was a formality, but for this particular scene that Caroline had arranged, as the Planners had agreed, following a procedure, an appropriate ritual, was important, necessary really if one wanted to achieve the desired effect.
So Caroline took her place before the tall judge's bench, the chamber darkened but for the lights that shown down on her and the man who would condemn her. The Master of Punishments, in his black robes, powdered wig and mask, glowered down at her from the ornate judge's bench and pronounced her doom in a booming, bass voice.
"You are sentenced to public crucifixion," he bellowed. There was a brief pause before he continued, ominously, "with additional torments to be inflicted at the discretion of the assigned Tormentor. Bailiff, take her into custody and see that the sentence is duly executed."
The Bailiff approached, seized Caroline's wrists and cuffed them behind her back. Then the Handler approached, who's job it was in such choreographed scenes to see that the subject was delivered to the appropriate venues. He placed a collar around Caroline's neck, then snapped a leash to it.
"So, Caroline," he whispered, "it begins. You remember your safe word? Though I'm sure you won't need it."
She nodded in the affirmative. She hoped she wouldn't have to scream or whimper her safe word and thus terminate the scene. She was so self-assured and certain a week ago when she'd sat sipping tea in the Planners' office, discussing the scene she had in mind. She'd become quite turned on as she discussed her fantasies and the Planners had made suggestions for playing them out. But now the time to begin the scene had arrived and she found she was nervous, much more nervous than she had expected to be.
The Handler brought Caroline down to the preparation room. There the Preparers took charge of her. She was bathed and, despite the fact that she had shaved earlier that morning, her pussy given another shave so that it was absolutely hairless. Then she was led into a small, darkened room containing only a narrow, bed. She was placed on her back, arms at sides. Straps fastened her wrists and ankles to the frame, feet apart so that her pussy was exposed. One of the Preparers adjusted a volume knob. Music, classical tunes that Caroline had selected, began to play softly. Before they left her one of the Preparers took out a small vibrator and spent a few minutes working it over her breasts and pussy. Then they left her to ponder the ordeal that awaited her. The anticipation was a vital part of the scene.
Caroline waited in the dark, trying not to think too hard about the afternoon. Every so often one of the Preparers came in with the vibrator and again applied it to her sensitive areas. But carefully, just enough that Caroline became aroused but not enough to put her over the edge. It was important, the Chief Preparer had told her, that she was in the proper physical state for the ordeal.
Lying in the dark she began to think again of those old stories of martyrs she'd heard in Catholic school and of the horrible things done to them by Roman emperors and centurions and various other assorted villains. She dwelt on those stories when she was sexually excited. Or did the stories themselves excite her? She was never quite sure which came first. And did the good Sisters have any notion of the ideas they were putting in her head?
Then it was nearly time. In the distance she heard a clock striking 12 noon. The Preparers came in again. She was led to a lavatory and allowed to relieve herself. But her wrists remained bound behind her back and two Preparers carefully made sure that nothing was allowed to release the pent up feelings that made her nipples and clit so sensitive. Done with the necessary tasks Caroline was dressed in a flimsy lace G-string. A sort of shift made of extremely fine, nearly translucent material was slipped over her. It was sleeveless. Beneath her arms it was slit down to the waist. Front and back slits came nearly to her crotch. A thin, white rope secured it around her waist. The garment clung to her form enticingly and when she walked would give quick, tantalizing glimpses of her pale, near naked form.
A collar was strapped around her neck, cuffs around her wrists, which were then fastened together behind her back. A leash was snapped to the collar and she was presented to the Handler.
The Handler then led her through the lower level corridors of the Villa and out through the slave entrance. The tumbril was waiting there. It was a two wheeled horse cart. But there was no horse. In it place four ponies-for-a-day stood, two male and two female. Each was naked save for leather harness and bridle. Each sported a suitable ponytail mounted on a butt plug. Caroline noticed one of the "stallions" was fully and she suspected a bit painfully erect. She wished she could see what it would look like if he were put into a trot. Well, maybe another time, she thought. She would have to look out for him on future visits to the Villa as a spectator.
The sides of the cart had been removed and replaced by two tall poles, one on either side just behind the axle. The Handler and the driver helped Caroline up onto the tumbril. They turned her around, so that she was facing the rear. The cuffs around her wrists were unhooked from each other and, the Handler taking one and the driver the other, her arms were raised and the cuffs hooked high up the poles. Then her legs were spread and the ankle cuffs likewise fastened at the bottoms of the poles. The Handler whispered a warning to her to grasp the chains between cuff and pole to save her wrists.
The handler signaled the driver, who whistled and snapped his signal whip against the four bare bottoms, each in turn.. The ponies tightened their grips on the center pole and began to walk slowly, pulling the tumbril over the uneven cobblestones. One of the reasons the Villa employed the antique vehicle for showier events was the rough ride. With each jerk and bounce Caroline's body was jostled, her sensitive breasts joggling in a most appealing manner behind the thin fabric that barely concealed them. But the bobbling was also most uncomfortable. A small crowd of members and guests quickly gathered and followed the tumbril's progress as it turned onto the gravel path to the Villa's Renaissance village, the first stop on her progress to the picnic grounds where Caroline's crucifixion would be enacted.
It was not a long ride to the village, along a winding gravel cart track. But the gravel made a rough ride on the unsprung cart. Caroline was glad for the sake of her breasts when they turned in through the gate and came to a stop before the public punishment platform in the center of the village square. But relief, temporarily, for one part of her body only meant other parts were about to be abused. The Master of Punishments had ordered a preliminary torment before the main event.
On a fine weekend mid-day such as this the village was quite busy. Weekends always brought out a good showing of members, both those with planned activities and those playing out ad hoc personal scenes, and those who just wanted to spend the day watching the goings on and having a pleasant lunch and a beverage or two and generally marveling at the sexual creativity of their fellows. The village was a good place for this, since it not only had several food and drink facilities but the variety of implements and props found around the village square ensured that there was seldom a lack of entertainment, between arranged scenes, such as Caroline's and couples or small groups taking advantage of the amenities to play out their private scenes in a public venue. A streak of exhibitionism was found among many of the members of the Villa.
The driver turned the cart so that Caroline was facing the platform. He'd also positioned it far enough away that Caroline would have to walk through the crowd to get to it. And the crowd was already crowding in around the cart, the driver having to loudly order them to leave a clear avenue between cart and platform repeatedly.
The Handler and the driver unfastened Caroline's wrists and ankles and helped her from the cart. Again the wrist cuffs were snapped together behind her back, the leash snapped to her collar. The Handler led her up the steps of the punishment platform, the way lined by a still growing crowd of onlookers. Caroline's ears caught comments from the onlookers.
"Wouldn't you love to take a
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