By Louetta


This is part 1 of 8 of an adventure I undertook for my oldest
brother's college buddies when I was eighteen


Today is Sunday. It's noon and I'm sitting on my steps waiting to
be picked up. All of this has happened in only a week. At last
week's graduation party my brother and his friends asked me to do
a scene with them. They wanted me to play a slut who would be
crucified for her sins. This required a victim, hopefully young,
hopefully physically attractive. To be stripped naked, whipped
and put to the cross. I knew the instant I heard it I wanted to
be that victim. They wanted my sister Robin but they would have
had to force her. I was more willing. In fact I couldn't wait.

I told my brother we'd need to negotiate a long scene like this
so a day later I was given a contract outlining how long it would
be, what would happen, what wouldn't happen. I would be picked up
today at noon and driven to the site of my ordeal, a secret site.
Except we all knew where it was. Just a big lonely field. It
takes about two hours to drive there, in Maine, out in the hills
north of Portland, an isolated wood lot reachable by a long dirt
road. An ideal spot.

According to the contract once we got there I would be strung up
by my wrists in the nude to await my punishment. Stringing me up
like that gave the guys time to come and minister to me, however
they would, and gave me time to think about what was to be done
to me over the next few hours. It also gave them time to arrange
the rest of the scene. The real action consisted of a flogging,
of me, and then my crucifixion. While I was strung up, they would
erect a frame from which I would be hung for my flogging. Then
they would assemble my cross and we'd be ready.

The flogging in the nude was scheduled to last one hour. That was
a long time but I had endured one of three hours even though I
had passed out several times and had had to be revived. Today,
after the whipping, I would be marched to the cross and the
actual crucifixion would take place. That was scheduled to last
until the sun went down over the trees directly in front of where
I would be hanging from the cross. That would the boys time to
take me down from the cross and revive me and give everyone time
to get back out to the main road before dark set in. So if you
figure I'm picked up at noon, we arrive at two, I'm hung out to
await my fate until three, I'm flogged until four and on my cross
by five that gives about two and one-half hours to suffer on the
cross. Doable.

Besides these details there were other things in the contract. I
would be driven to the site with my hands and feet bound and a
blindfold on. That was to make sure the location of the "secret"
site remained a secret. Hopefully they'd tell the driver of the
car where it was. There would be at least one girl with me at all
times. That was to protect my virtue, something I had in fact
surrendered willingly to my third boyfriend when I was fourteen.
I would have surrendered it willingly to either of my first two
boyfriends but they never asked, somewhat to my chagrin.

Once at the site I would be forcibly stripped and hung out to
await punishment. Forcibly stripped. I knew by that time I'd be
so horny if they weren't fast enough I'd strip myself. During
this phase of the punishment they would use clamps on me. That's
a bondage thing. I don't think the Romans put nipple clamps on
people before real crucifixions. I made them add a clause that
they could not put the clamps on my genitals. Ick. Also there was
to be no fucking. At least no fucking of me. By them.

Again according to my contract I was to be whipped and crucified
while completely naked. Not even earrings. People could touch me
but there was to be no penetration, i.e. no rape, and no one
could hit me with anything but of course the whip while I was
being flogged. The whip was described in the contract. A store
bought three-tail cat about two feet long made of soft leather.
Not too bad. The first time I was flogged it was done with a wet
piece of hemp, which hurt like hell. I would be whipped only on
my bare ass and the backs of the top part of my thighs. They knew
I have thin legs and that whipping my thighs would hurt like
hell. Not that whipping my bare ass wouldn't. I would then be
taken down, bound and marched to the cross.

The cross would be the traditional kind on which Jesus was
crucified. The kind that looks like a T. A lot of girls, me
included, like to be done on the kind of cross that's shaped like
an X. The attraction for me is having my legs spread wide because
it makes me feel so vulnerable. If there are guys there, and I
wouldn't be tortured without them, it also gives you the thrill
that comes with knowing the power of your pussy, the power of the
pink. Because every guy I ever talked to wants to see girls on
that kind of cross, too. I thought I might like to try it for
this scene but having your legs spread like that is kind of
personal and I didn't think I wanted to spread `em for too many
people. Maybe next time. So I let it go. Maybe the girlfriends
didn't want their men seeing me that way. Might give them ideas
about what else my cunt might be good for later on. It also said
the cross would be made of wood, a two by four for a cross piece
and a four by four for a base although these details hardly
seemed to matter to the victim.

I was to be tied to the cross with rope, of course, no nails, no
barbed wire, etc. They would tie my wrists with my arms spread
wide and also bind my elbows and my upper arms near my shoulders.
That was fine. I knew I wouldn't be strong enough just to hang by
my wrists. I would be supplied with a pussy rope and I could cum
as much as I could manage, none of this orgasm control crap. I
would be crucified facing the sun. It was the middle of the
summer and it would be very hot, in the nineties, or the high
thirties if you're into Celsius, always assuming it didn't rain
which it rarely does in the summer. Being in the sun all day
didn't concern me. I spend a lot of time at the beach, as much
time as possible topless and my bare, still snow white ass would
be somewhat hidden. Plus the girl who was to be with me all
during this protecting my non existent virtue was to be provided
with sunscreen. Photography would be not allowed though I'd be
powerless to prevent it.

While on the cross I could be flogged some more and stimulated
sexually as long as nothing went into me but otherwise I was to
be left alone. I could ask for as much water as I wanted and it
would be given. If I passed out I would be taken down and revived
and that would be the end of it, unlike my other long whippings
when they revived me and just kept on whipping me. There were no
bathroom breaks. I would just have to pee on myself. I'm sure
there were people who would love to see that.

It would be almost eight hours from the time I was picked up
until the time I was taken down from the cross. While naked I had
to be really naked. Condemned girls in ancient Rome didn't wear
jewelry. Also for some reason I could not even wear any sanitary
protection. This was a moot point since I was not going to be on
the rag at the time but of course they didn't know that. I guess
they wanted to make sure they had an unobstructed view of my
cunt, either that or they wanted to see me bleed. I would be
sprayed with bug spray as soon as I was hung out to await my
ordeal and as often as I needed it. That was some comfort anyway.
I wouldn't be eaten alive by bugs. People could say anything they
wanted to me, call me names, make fun of my body, threaten me.
There was no mention of a safe word, which didn't surprise me
with one of my brothers in charge. I didn't ask for one. I really
wanted to suffer through all of this.

I woke up at 4:30AM that morning and lay in bed for awhile and
finally was up at six. There was no way in hell I could sleep.
Wolfed down an English muffin, grabbed a cup of coffee and drove
to the beach. It was already seventy-five degrees or so and it
wasn't even seven. This was going to be a hot one. Great. Clad in
my little red bikini, barefoot, I ran the mile and one half to
the jetty and sat down among the rocks. I run every day and go to
the gym. I need to keep my body in trim for swimming and the kind
of modeling jobs I'm offered.

Since there were few people around and I was half hidden among
the rocks I untied my top behind my neck and caught a few rays on
my bare tits. Some girls sunbathe topless right on the beach but
I don't. My tits are mine so I don't give them away except to
boyfriends and the people I do scenes with. I just sat there and
contemplated my future, my immediate future, like the rest of the
day. My tits liked the sun. It also seemed they knew they were
going to spend much of the rest of the day bare.

Sitting there looking out at the ocean, almost alone, it seemed
hard to believe I was going to finish the day hanging naked from
a cross. Of course I was almost naked right now and in any case
being nude was the least of my worries. I've been whipped nude a
lot before too. Enough to know I was going to enjoy today's
session with that little store bought whip. Enjoy every second of
it, every inch of me. The crucifixion was another matter. I
wasn't sure how much it would hurt, how much trouble it would be
to get my breath, whether anything really bad would happen to me,
whether I could last the two and one half hours. But I looked
forward to the feel of the crotch rope against my cunt lips and
the chance to achieve an orgasm in still another set of new
circumstances. Right in front of everybody.

Speaking of which, feeling the warmth of the sun against my bare
tits, I slipped my hand down the front of my bikini bottoms only
to take it right back out when two fishermen came up behind me
and started walking out the jetty. They were like six feet from
me. I sat up quick and squeezed my boobs tight against my knees
to try to maintain some shred of dignity as they went by. They
went about their business and for about an hour I sat there just
enjoying the sun and the water and the little breeze there was.
Finally I just stood up. I didn't pull my top up until one of the
fishermen spotted me standing there. I wanted them to spot me.
They looked at me, I looked at them. I have nice tits, not that
big but I enjoyed showing them off. After a few seconds I pulled
the loose strings of my top up under my hair, tied it and started
running back down the beach.

Back home I read the Sunday paper and then lay in my bikini
bottoms on the lounge chair on my porch. At eleven I went inside
and took a shower and washed my hair. As I dried I watched myself
in the mirror. I was still the slim, virginal lass I was in high
school. At five ten and a hundred twenty five I was thin. Topless
sunbathing at our camp had taken the pure white edge off them but
they still stood out a little pale against my suntanned body. I
turned and surveyed my snow white behind and thought how in a few
hours it was going to suffer so under the whip. Turning back
around I dabbed a little perfume behind my ears, on my neck,
between my tits and at the top of the crack in my ass. Quarter of
twelve, I took a leak and got dressed to go. 
