Chapter 43: Crucifixion Picnic, Prelude
Peggy noticed that Jenni was in her office cubicle alone for a change, so she decided this might be a good time. “Hea, boss, got a minute?”
Jenni looked up, “Oh, yea, take a seat Peggy, what’s up?”
“I assume we’re doing the usual company picnic on the 4th?” Peggy asked.
“Un hu, Jerri started planning it before she lost this month’s election, so she’s still working on it from the cell. Why?”
“Well,” Peggy hesitated a second, “I was thinking, I mean I was wondering if I could be crucified at the picnic.”
All the employees at Schwartz Iron Works knew Peggy had a particular fetish for being tied arms out to various cross beams, wood structures or anything else that worked. She had asked her co-workers on many occasions to put her ‘on a cross’. It usually resulted in a few hours of bondage fun as the women tormented Peggy then vibed her to several good orgasms.
Peggy wasn’t sure exactly where this fetish came from. Peggy, like all of the women who worked at Schwartz, was a lesbian or bi, and loved a good BDSM scene. But Peggy seemed obsessed with crucifixion. It wasn’t a religious thing for Peggy, who had never even been to church. It was, she thought, an example of predicament bondage that left the sub to struggle in complete helplessness. Peggy’s first exposure had been in middle school when she came across an article, with pictures, of when Marcus Licinius Crassus had Spartacus and 6,000 slaves crucified along the Appian way. The story had a profound effect on Peggy, who was just starting to fantasize about sex and kink.
Jerri, one of the twins who owned and managed Schwartz was curious why Peggy was making this a big ‘talk to the boss’ deal. “OK, it’s not like we haven’t tied you up to a cross before, I’m sure some of the women will be glad to tie you up at the picnic, we usually get into all kinds of kinky stuff, you know that.”
“Yea, well, I was hoping for a more intense experience than that. I want to do it for real!” Peggy said.
Now Jenni was starting to get concerned.
“I mean,” Peggy said quickly, seeing the concern on Jenni’s face, “except the dying part.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Jerri said, “you’re our most talented welder, especially with aluminum, and your tongue is pretty talented too. I wouldn’t want to lose you. Sit down and explain this to me.”
Peggy collected her thoughts then started, “Crucifixion should be about suffering, slow, steady, excruciating suffering that grows more intense over time. It should take a day or more. It should be done outdoors on a real, heavy, wooden cross. And no nipple clamps, tickling, or vibrators, just leave me to suffer. Oh, and I don’t want to decide when I am taken down. This should be a completely consensual, non-consensual scene. No safeword, someone else decides when it’s over.”
“And you want to do this at the company picnic?” Jerri asked.
“I want to be left alone to suffer,” Peggy explained, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want witnesses to my suffering.”
“Hmmm, OK, I’m not opposed. let’s talk this over with the crew at dinner.”
Later that night, over steaming bowls of curry, Jenni had Peggy explain everything they had talked about in the office. Being a kinky bunch, the employees were all in and immediately began brainstorming.
“We could get some railroad ties and make a cross!”
“No, those would be way too heavy, but I bet the lumber salvage store could come up with some weathered 6X6 timbers that would look great!”
“Who cares how it looks?”
“Setting the mood silly!”
“Peggy, we’re not going to actually nail your hands and feet, are we?”
“No, I’m not crazy, just kinky, our really good suspension cuffs should work.” Peggy explained, then went on, “The position of the feet is critical however! The feet should be on a narrow platform with toes down about 45% so I can’t lock my knees. And the platform should be up where my knees are at about 45 degrees when I’m hanging from my arms.”
“Why is that important?” someone asked.
“It’s called ‘the dance’” Peggy started to explain.
“Ohhh, I’ve heard of that, you go from hanging from your hands until your diaphragm gets so tired you can’t breathe, to standing on your legs, but you can’t lock your knees so your leg muscles start to quiver and give out. You ‘dance’ back and forth trying to get comfortable.” Someone added.
“Oh, there are a lot more ‘moves’ in the dance as I’ll try to get some relief.”
As the evening went on, all kinds of details were discussed.
“Where are we going to do this? Chain is a kinky town, but I don’t think we can do this at the city park!”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Jenni interjected, “I think I’ll call Mrs. Wainwright, see if we can hold the picnic in her back garden.”
“Ohh, that place is awesome! But I’ve heard she’s pretty private. Why would she let us have our picnic there?” Peggy asked.
“We have done several large jobs for her,” Jenni explained, “and she’s also VERY dominant. Even though she prefers dominating men, I bet she’d love to witness this event.”
As the discussion went on, it was decided that Peggy should be whipped and worked prior to being hung on the cross so that she wouldn’t last as long. Peggy was really buff, her shoulders bulged with muscles when she flexed. She didn’t work out but when your job involves moving Iron around, it’s better than working out. Some of the employees were afraid she might last for days unless they wore her out first.
“Well, it’s traditional to make her carry the cross, isn’t it?”
“Not the whole thing, the Romans only made them carry the cross piece. It was heavy enough.”
“If we do get to use Mrs. Wainwright’s estate, I’ve heard there is a whole network of trails between her mansion and the river.”
Someone else asked, “But who and how will decide when it’s over?”
Peggy had been thinking about this, “I was thinking perhaps a vote of the employees?”
Jenny, sitting on the bed in her cell, had been quiet through this whole discussion even though her sister Jerri had given her full permission to participate, now she got their attention, “If Peggy really wants to push the envelope, then we want a much more scientific way to make sure she comes out of this experience without any permanent damage, or death. We don’t want to lose our best welder to a miscalculation.”
“True that!” Peggy said with a smile.
“So,” Jenny continued, “Why don’t I call Dr. MacDougal, the head of the Urology Department at the Chain Hospital. Belinda is a VERY kink aware doctor. She’s personally into femdom and I know several of her nurses are into the life as well. She or one of her nurses, if they agree, could be the ones to decide when Peggy has had enough.”
Calls were made. Both Mavis Wainwright and Dr. Belinda MacDougal were enthusiastically on board. Mavis said that she wanted the cross to be a permanent fixture in her garden. Belinda said she would recruit a couple of nurses so they could take shifts monitoring Peggy’s crucifixion. She suggested they tape a battery powered blood oxygen monitor to Peggy’s toe and stop the scene when Peggy’s blood oxygen level approached an unsafe level. Peggy was getting so excited by all these plans that Jerri had to scold her for excessive masturbation during work hours.
Each night at dinner at Schwartz more and more ideas were thrown out. Costumes were designed, mostly Roman priestesses and centurions. Jerri called Juan, the driver who usually delivered their iron. Jerri knew Juan had a ‘thing’ for Peggy, even though he completely understood she was gay, and he didn’t have a chance. Juan still spent way too much time chatting up Peggy any time he had a delivery. And Jerri knew Juan was, if not kinky himself, at least kink aware as he had been invited to the company picnic at least twice before. The picnic wasn’t a full blown ‘play party,’ it was more about socializing than BDSM. But you can’t get a group of kinky people together without considerable nudity, a few people wearing cuffs, collars and various mini scenes, like spankings, breaking out spontaneously.
Juan was also HUGE. Like Peggy, he spent most of his day hoisting and moving iron bars, rods, angle iron, etc. so his muscles bulged, and it didn’t hurt that he was at least 6’5”. It didn’t take Jerri long to explain the situation to Juan. He was super into playing the role of a Centurion. On a whim, she also called their good customer Bob and his son-in-law Fred figuring they would make good Centurions too. And since Schwartz usually invites a few good customers to the picnic, it was fitting to invite them and their wives.
Peggy was involved in the early discussions and planning, which included Peggy constantly insisting she trusted the team and was pre-consenting to whatever. However, there was also considerable planning that did not include her. So, on the Friday before the picnic, she was surprised when, at quitting time, she saw Juan and a man she did not know coming across the Schwartz yard headed right for her. She would later learn that the man with Juan was named John and was one of Mrs. Wainwright’s full-time submissives. All Peggy knew was the guy was ripped! He had even more muscles than Juan, if that was possible. She could tell he was ripped because both he and Juan weren’t wearing much above the waist.
At first Peggy was inclined to laugh out loud because both men were wearing uniforms of Roman Centurions, right down to the helmets, swords, and sandals. And although they looked pretty authentic, at least from what Peggy had seen in movies, the sight of them striding across the yard was completely out of place. Peggy was in a snarky mood and asked, “I didn’t think Halloween was until fall?” when Juan suddenly and violently spun Peggy around and slammed her up against a pile of steel angle iron. While Juan grabbed her wrists, raised them above her head and pinned her to the steel, John grabbed her standard Schwartz coveralls behind the neck and ripped downward so violently that the strap buttons popped, and the straps left angry red marks across Peggy’s shoulders as he pulled the single garment down her body.
“What the FUCK!” Peggy screamed in both pain and anger.
John slapped her ass so hard it raised her feet off the ground “Quiet slut, you’ll get a chance to complain at your trial!”
Juan then pulled her hands behind her back while John bound them with a leather thong then both men grabbed her under the shoulders, picked her up and started marching away.
OK, Peggy knew this was part of the weekend. She knew they were roleplaying. She knew they looked silly in their Centurion uniforms. But DAMN, the last few minutes had been so sudden, so violent and so disorienting that she was actually scared. She didn’t know John, but Juan had always been friendly, kind and, yes, she knew he had a crush on her. But this, this was a different person.
They carried Peggy to the back of the lot, behind a stack of rusted scrap and junk that should have been sent to recycling long ago. The stack of junk effectively blocked off a small area of the yard. There, someone had built a very crude cage. Peggy realized someone had put a lot of work into constructing this cage without Peggy ever realizing the work was going on. And the cage was built using first century iron working techniques. The “bars” were flat iron that were hot riveted together. The cage was about four by four feet square and only about 4 feet high. Peggy had a bad feeling about the heavy iron collar attached to the top of the cage by only a couple of handmade chain links.
Juan shoved Peggy into the cage and followed her part way in. He closed the heavy collar around her neck and locked the ancient looking padlock through the hasp. Backing out he checked the bindings on her wrists, making sure they were secure but not cutting off her circulation. John slammed the cage door shut and locked it with another old padlock. Up to this point Peggy hadn’t said a word. This was a consensual scene but she was still worried about where it was going. But she was still in a bratty mood. As the two ‘Centurions’ walked off she shouted, “You girls look nice in your skirts! So, what now?” They didn’t respond, they didn’t even look back.
It didn’t take Peggy very long to figure out that this cage was a diabolical predicament. The cage was too short for her to stand up completely. The bars were too close for her to stick her head through. And the chain on the collar was too short to let her kneel, much less lay down. She wondered how long they would leave her like this. By early Saturday morning she would have her answer. Peggy would spend the night without dinner, water, or a bathroom break. She discovered that she could bend at the waist and straighten her legs, but the muscles in her back started to ache. She could bend her knees and straighten her back, but her thighs started burning after a while. She tried twisting sideways, bending backwards, and every other position but nothing was comfortable for very long.
After sundown the temperature dropped. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. She started to shiver so she started trying to move to keep warm. She eventually had to pee on the ground under her which added a lovely aroma to the cage. About 4 am (although Peggy had no idea what time it was) she started to cry. Peggy was a tough bitch, but the cage was just wearing her down. Every muscle in her body hurt, she was hungry, thirsty, cold, and had NO idea how much longer this would go on.
Inside the Schwartz Iron works communal living quarters everyone was rising early. The two “Centurions” had slept on the couches, still in their tunics. As everyone rose, it was Alicia who realized Juan’s tunic had a bit of a ‘tent’ in the front. How could he not be excited with all the Schwartz employees running around in various states of undress, getting breakfast, or getting into their togas. John didn’t have a ‘problem.’ His mistress Mrs. Wainwright had an Ultimate Chastity Device implanted into him and even a slight erection caused enough pain to focus his thoughts elsewhere. More than once during the coming day he wished he could beg Mrs. Wainwright for release but he knew better than to even think about it. But poor Juan. Surrounded by lesbians, facing a day of watching his crush be crucified, well, Juan was sporting a huge erection. He was seriously considering slipping out for a little ‘alone time’ when Alicia called out: “Hea Jenni? Juan was so nice to come help us out, we can’t let a fine Hispanic man like this suffer all day!” and she pointed at his crotch. Juan turned red.
“So,” Jenni asked, “are you volunteering?” Jenni was mostly kidding, some of the employees tended towards bisexual but Alicia was hard core lesbian. Jenni didn’t think she ever had a real penis in any of her holes.
“Hell no!” Alicia responded as expected, but then she cut her eyes meaningfully towards the cell in the middle of the room.
Seeing her eyes, Jerri, the current prisoner of the cell said emphatically, “Hell no! Uh, no offense Juan.”
“Now Jerri, you know we agreed to have a one-day parole so you could attend the picnic, but we could easily suspend that. After all, you haven’t helped with any of the preparation for today!” Jenni scolded.
“Well, I have been kind of locked up!” Jerri complained.
“So, now’s your chance to help!” Jenni replied.
Watching this exchange, Juan’s tent was several inches taller and Alicia, who was a real sadistic bitch anyway, was grinning from ear to ear.
“So, here’s what I think is fair,” Jenni started. “Fair for who.” Jerri mumbled while looking at Juan’s crotch.
“We’re gonna let Juan in your cell while we finish up breakfast and put on our costumes. You are going to ENTHUSIASTICALLY make love to Juan. You’re going to take your time. You’re going to willingly let him use any and all of your holes! And when he’s done, Juan, and only Juan will decide if you get to come to the picnic. Is that clear?”
Juan was looking around the room like “is this really happening?”
Then he looked at Jerri, trying to decide if he was OK with this. He thought, was this consensual?
Jerri was saying “Jenni, girls, don’t make me do this, Please?” But at the same time, she winked at Juan and gave him a coy little smile.
Once Juan was in the cell and it was locked behind him, Jerri said out loud “Let’s get this over with!” But then she whispered in Juan’s ear, “These bitches haven’t let me cum in three weeks and four days but who’s counting. I need you to pound me till I can’t walk!”
And then Jerri pulled her thin mattress off her metal army bed and threw it in the middle of the floor. Kneeling down in the middle of the mattress she said, “So how do you want me?”
Juan had his tunic over his head and his cock in Jerri’s mouth almost before she finished her question.
Jerri preferred pussies to penis’ but after weeks of the forced chastity that was a part of her life in the cell, she would take an orgasm any way she could get it. The problem was, Juan was already so turned on she was sure he was going to explode in her mouth at any minute. She tried to toy with him, lick the shaft, suck the head slowly, but Juan just grabbed her hair and face fucked her. Didn’t he understand what she whispered to her? Of course he did, but typical man, she thought, he doesn’t care, he’s just going to get off and leave me more frustrated than before.
Sure enough, after just a few minutes, Juan exploded down Jerri’s throat. Jerri had taken a load and swallowed a few times before, but this was a LOT. She choked, sputtered, and turned a little blue in the face by the time she caught her breath. Juan was suddenly self-conscious, he had just violently face-fucked a woman, in a cell, in the middle of a room full of her employees. But to his amazement, as he looked around, nobody was paying any attention. The Shwartz employees were eating breakfast, getting dressed in togas, gathering supplies, and generally paying no attention to the show in the cell. The only exception was Alicia who called out “Hea Jerri, how you like that Hispanic spunk!”
Juan, however, was a far more considerate lover than Jerri gave him credit for. But first he pulled Jerri’s face back to his penis, “Clean it up!” he ordered in a loud voice. Then it was his turn to whisper, “I knew I’d come in just a few minutes, but now, if that mouth of yours is really as talented as I think it is, get me hard again and you can ride my Mexican pole till you cum!”
Well son-of-a-bitch, thought Jerri as she went back to using her best oral skills to revive Juan for round two. And it didn’t take long at all till Juan was filling her mouth again.
Laying down on his back Juan said, “Clasp your hand behind your back, squat down and mount it. If you’re not wet, too bad. “That,” Jerri thought, “wasn’t going to be a problem.” Juan continued, “If you unclasp your hands from behind your back, we’re done, I’ll buck you off and leave you in the cell, no picnic for you. If you can’t cum before I cum a second time, no picnic for you. You can bounce up and down on it, you can squirm around on it, you can rock on it, anything you want. Just get your orgasm and stop before I cum. THEN, I’m gonna cum in your ass.”
“OK,” Jerri said, then continued loudly to the room, “Can someone get us some lube?”
“NO” was the immediate chorus from the room, who had obviously been paying attention to Juan’s instructions. “OK,” Jerri thought, “I guess I better hope I get his penis really wet.”
Suddenly they had an audience. John, Jenni, Alicia, and the rest of the Shwartz employees, except Peggy of course who was still caged up outside, were at the cell bars watching.
And of course, they were pulling for Juan.
“Hea Juan, don’t worry, we’ll let you know if she lets her hands slip.” Someone shouted.
“Juan, you want to suck these while you wait for that bitch to finish.” Alicia had bared her breast and was flashing Juan. She had noticed him staring at her cleavage more than once.
“Juan, I could lick your balls while she does that, would you like that?” someone asked.
“Doesn’t she feel warm and tight Juan? Look at her tiny titties bouncing!”
“Bitches,” thought Jerri, “they are trying to get him to cum before me.”
But Jerri had a strategy too. She angled her body so that her clit was riding the edge of Juan’s penis as it slid in and out of her. It had been a long time since Jerri had relief, and having everyone gathered around the cell watching was helping push her over the edge. Jerri exploded. Juan felt like her vaginal walls were crushing his penis and he almost, almost came. When he violently bucked Jerri off he was amazed at the amount of girl goo soaking his pubic hair. He got on his knees, quickly and firmly flipped Jerri over, pulled her ass to him and entered her ass with one, quick trust.
There was a pause of several heartbeats then Jerri screamed. It was a primal scream of pain and pleasure and surprise.
There was a lot of natural lubricant on Juan’s cock, but not enough. And Jerri hadn’t done an enema, so she was pretty full. And Juan’s cock was slightly above average in length and girth. It hurt. A lot.
And Juan just started pounding.
Thank god he had been right on the verge of coming when Jerri came. It only took him ten hard thrusts and he dumped his second load of the day into Jerri’s ass and both of them collapsed on the mattress.
“Well,” Jenni exclaimed from outside the cell, “we’re going to have to throw that mattress out, somebody get them a damp towel. And you two,” taking to Jerri and Juan as she unlocked the cell, “go take a shower.” Juan looked down and the mattress was stained with a mixture of semen, Jerri’s juices, some shit and just a bit of blood. Fully realizing what he had just done he looked at Jerri with concern but saw in her face a contented spaced-out smile. He helped her up as they headed for a quick shower.