Undercover

UNDERCOVER

Jessica’s gauntlet continues, this time a view and a workout from above the tormenters and crowd.

Chapter Five

       Unbound from the chair, the pair of bare-chested muscular men lifts her semi-conscious body and carries her through the crowd, over to the room with the cross.  Another pair of men on ladders waits behind either side of the cross as her right arm’s stretched up toward the wooden beam as she’s lifted by her waist by the other man.  As one man holds her right wrist from behind the cross, stretching it outward toward the end of the crossing beam, the man in front swings a hammer, driving a thick nail through the upper eyelet of the flattened end of a molded metal cuff.  Driving another nail through the bottom eyelet, the cuff engulfs her wrist pressing it securely against the flat wood.

       Stepping to the other side, her arm tautly stretched upward and outward, the couple of nails are quickly nailed through the eyelets forcing the metal cuff to engulf that wrist and press it firmly against the cross.  The men stepping down from their ladders, the man holding her around her waist releasing her, her body slumps, hangs downward in front of the flat surface of the wooden cross as her arms spread harshly above her slumping head, hair matted across her face, her hands darkening as her naked body strains.

       Each ankles’ individually gripped, held across the outer sides of the cross’s square post as the man with the hammer drives a couple more nails through the eyelets of the metal ankle cuffs after her knees are positioned in a forty-five degree angle.  Stepping back, Jessica’s mounted crucifixion is completed.  Naked, spread in the classic crucifying position, a bucket of cold brine water is handed to Beth in front of her.  Splashing it up across Jessica’s face and shoulders, she gags, twists her head back and forth as the cold, yet burning sensations tear through her ravaged body.

       Eyes darting back and forth, he mind racing, she feels her wrists and ankles pressed painfully against the wooden cross’s flat surfaces.  In agony, her breasts pounding from the caning she received, realizing she’s not still bound to the chair but hanging from the cross, everything seems so surreal, a nightmare.  Jerking her arms and legs, unknowing how she’s mounted, nailed or otherwise, her numb wrists and ankles offer no perception of her mounting as she frantically tries to glance at her feet and wrists.  Her heart pounds as she can’t stand the thought of what if she is nailed, like the other woman was.

       “Don’t worry!”  Beth, still naked herself, chimes in as she flips what remains in the bucket across Jessica’s battered breasts.  Seeing Jessica’s eyes darting, realizing what she must be thinking, she smirks.  “You’re not actually nailed to the cross…. Yet!”

       Staring down toward Beth, barely coherent in her beaten and weakened state, her arms already aching and her chest heaving as the weight of her body hangs from her outstretched shoulders, Jessica struggles for breath, moaning as the metal cuffs grind against her burning, raw wrists as the salty water drips off her naked flesh.  Glancing up toward the cuffs gripping her wrists then down toward the cuffs pressing into her ankles, she attempts to lift upward to breathe a little easier as she lets her head droop forward, her chin scraping across her sternum between her trembling breasts jaunting apart off her straining chest.  Her knees straightening, the pain in her ankles are excruciating as the unforgiving metal cuffs clamp tightly against her flesh.  Able to hold herself up only momentarily, she drops, again feeling the searing pain in her shoulders and wrists as her drenched, naked body trembles on the cross.

       Again the crowd’s allowed to mingle, circle her hanging above them.  Her taut flesh stretched across her protruding tendons and ligaments, her crucified body twitches as she again tries to relieve just enough pressure off her torso to take a deep breath.  Once again the pain sears through her legs and ankles as she can only gasp a couple quick gulps before dropping painfully downward until she’s caught by her stretched arms, her bruised breasts bouncing painfully above her protruding ribcage as her back scrapes against the rough hewn wood.  Barely able to grunt, her entire body wracked with a consistent sadistic pain, she finds herself repeatedly trying to perform a ritual like dance on the cross as her backside chafes raw.

       Between agonizing stretches, glaring pleadingly out into the crowd, getting only unsympathetic responses, she realizes in her physical condition she can’t continue to struggle much longer.  Her lungs already burning, her breathing short and raspy, she feels as if she’s slowly suffocating as her breasts quiver constantly out off her trembling body.

       “Jessica… Jessica!”  Beth blurts, smacking Jessica across her hollowed stomach.  Jessica, here… Let’s fix those bouncing titties!”  Reaching up, gripping Jessica’s right breast toward its base, she stretches a black, half inch band across her spreading fingers and slips the band up over the bulging globe.  Letting it snap shut, the band shrinks into the tit flesh.  Sliding her fingers outward toward the puckered nipple, flexing another black band with her spread fingers, she snaps that band into the tit flesh a couple inches forward.  After the fifth band, Jessica’s right breast appears tubular; standing straight out off her trembling chest as her other breast hangs down

       Giving Jessica a few moments to hoist herself up and down between gulping breaths again, Beth gives her left breast the same treatment.  Another handful of bands and both breasts are matched, both tubular, both pointing out toward her armpits.

       “Well, what do you think Jess?”  Beth smirks, a wide wooden flat paddle like piece of thin wood in her hand.  “Take a quick look at ‘em before I start working them over again!”

       Gazing down, from one to the other, her welted, purplish breasts seem to ripple under the elastic bands, her areolas stretched taut, and her nipples flattened.  Even as she’s looking she feels men’s hands on each side of her hips, hoisting her upwards a few inches.  A third man stands in front of the cross, hammering in a rectangular pointed serrated length of wood between her thighs, just under her parted labia folds.  The peg firmly mounted, standing out horizontally from between her spread thighs, the men release her.

       “Aggghhhhhh!”  The shallowest of grunts emit from her trembling lips as she feels the jagged wood pressing into the crease between her legs, her clit grinding painfully across the sadistic wooden peg holding her body higher.

       “There Jo!”  Beth again scoffs.  “Now you’ve got something to sit on, huh?”

       The pain excruciating, again unsuccessfully trying to hoist her self up with her straining arms, she drops.  The serrated wood unbearably grinds into her spread vagina as she squints, closing her eyes, trying somehow to gently lift upward.  Her mind screams as she struggles to find just the slightest of relief, again she performs her ritual of rising, lowering every few moments, continuing to try one more time to find the slightest relief as her ankles and wrists sear with pain.

       Her thoughts seem to drift, to try to block out the continuous flow of people circling the cross, staring, commenting as she raises, lowers, raises, lowers, each time more painful, each time her flesh peeling off her back side against the flat hewn wood, each time her raw clit grinding against the serrated peg between her aching legs. Seconds seem like minutes, minutes like hours as the fear of suffocating drives her on.

       “Thwack!... Agghhhh!”  The pain tears through her right breast as it bounces back and forth.  “Thwack!... Agghhhh!”  Her left breast receives the same torment, also bouncing as the wooden paddle flicks back and forth in Beth’s hand.  Grunting, twisting, her clit already rubbed raw on the sharp wooden peg, Jessica feels traces of urine dribbling down her inner thighs as she gasps for the slightest of breaths.

       Her fingers twitching as her toes curl, Jessica’s body reflexively spasms against the cross, her battered breasts jiggling in their multiple slender black bindings.  “Thwack!... Uggh!  Thwack… Humph!”  Her breasts almost flatten as Beth overhands the left, then right breasts directly across her translucent areolas and flattened nipples as her naked body rides the jerking peg.

       “Fuck!”  Beth scoffs, starring at Jessica’s bulging globes as her tortured body trembles on the cross.  “Aren’t those damn things numb yet, Jess?”

       “Thwack!... Thwack… Thwack… Thwack!!!”  Backhand, forehand, over, and finally under, Beth swings the paddle, pounding the flat surface of the wood across the outer globes of each breast first, then again directly across the nipples.  A gush of urine spurts, spraying out from the serrated peg, mixed with a pinkish crimson tinge.

       “Stop that Jess, that’s disgusting!”  Beth mocks.  Thwack!... Thwack!... Thwack!!!”  Stepping over by the side of the cross, Beth swings the paddle in her right fist, smacking it across Jessica’s flinching pubic mound and labia lips, each time lifting her hips up off the peg.

        Her head drooping, her matted hair stringing across her shoulders, Jessica’s limp body stretches down from her taut arms as her hips straddle the peg, driblets of blood tracing down across her inner thighs.  Unconscious, not even reflexively twitching, Deb steps up with a fresh bucket of ice cold brine water.  Tossing the entire amount across Jessica’s head and shoulders, she still doesn’t flinch.  Reaching for a second bucket handing it to one of the muscular men, he climbs the ladder behind the cross and dumps the water directly down across her head.

       “Oomph!”  Jerking, coughing, groaning, Jessica again is brought back from her temporary respite, her conscious pain again overwhelming as her Hell continues.

       “Thwack!”  Another overhand across her left nipple as Beth scoffs.  “Damn Jess, you scared us for a minute!”  Stepping toward the cross.  “Thwack!”  The right nipple gets the same attention.  “Shame on you… We’re not nearly done yet!”  Again concentrating on Jessica’s pubic mound, she swings.  “Thwack!... Thwack!... Thwack!!!”  Three harsh smacks bruise Jessica’s already reddened bare mound.

       Almost past the agony, her mind hardly able to register all the points of pain, Jessica just squats across the peg, her hazed eyes nearly blank as they barely flutter with each lashing.  Her drenched, naked body just hangs limp as she somehow holds her head back against the flat column, staring straight ahead into nowhere.

       Lowering the paddle in her hand, turning toward Deb, Beth whispers.  “Think she’ll make it all the way?”

       Deb, glancing toward the nearly comatose Jessica, her ravaged body bruised, welted, hanging as if she was being tortured, then crucified centuries ago in the old Roman coliseum, mutters.  “Damn, Beth… Who knows?  Glancing toward Beth she continues.  “But what’s the fun if she’s not feeling it anymore?  Maybe she needs an hour or so blow.”

       Glancing up toward Jessica, Beth grudgingly agrees.  “Yeh, okay, I guess you’re right!... But!... But she can rest for a while right up there, where she’s at!... It aint going to be good on her pussy, but at least she can breath like that until she’s able to continue, huh?”  Stepping back into the mingling crowd with Deb, a pair of the muscular, bare-chested men stand on either side of the cross with their arms crossed, allowing the onlookers to get a close up of Jessica’s crucified, unconscious body.

       Her hollowed stomach barely flexing, her head hanging down, the people circle almost silently viewing her swollen, bound breasts and the peg dripping blood from her swollen vulva. It takes a second look to realize she’s still breathing as the welts and bruises are now layered across her multi shaded body from her armpits to her thighs.  Most of the group will stay through the short break, for Jessica to continue through the gauntlet.