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Crucifiction;
Entrance, coercion, acceptance, undressing, submission, burdening, raising and hanging of a young woman in a lonely place.
This gallery investigates the humiliation of enforced nudity in a situation of complete powerlessness - captivity and hanging / crucifixion - together with the additional fear for many people of nakedness in public places, outdoors.
She is brought to the place assigned for torture, modesty acknowledged by a loin cloth and body covered overall with a makeshift dress, hands tied at back, made to wait and then compelled to walk across to where the big wooden frame awaits, there to stand and look at the instrument on which she'd undergo extreme torment. Old and battered; surely it has held other women in its deadly embrace, she thinks, looking at it with deep and fearful apprehension.
Improvised dress must be removed, revealing fine breasts, time permitted for coming to terms with her situation. Hesitatingly releasing the knot at neck, the folds of cloth she reluctantly allows to slide from chest, turning her back to the tormentors. Breasts uncovered, bare now, the skirt is unwrapped, thrown to the ground, long legs exposed as well now. Naked, save for the flimsy covering around groin; the shame of it all.
The heavy device is loaded onto back; she must drag it to the spot where she'll be crucified. An arduous task, deliberately humiliating, intended to terrify, control and subjugate.
She completes the burdensome journey and collapses to her knees, the cross rolling over into the correct position for fastening to the evil monster. First though, subjection to the penultimate humiliation.
No body covering is permitted on the cross; victims must hang stark naked.
Now to remove the last vestige of clothing, shyness and modesty blatantly contravened. As earlier, nobody will assault her or remove her cover; she must reveal intimate femininity by her own hand. With great reticence, the article is undone at the sides, where the shaped cloth has been crudely tied. Slowly, slowly, she works at the knots until the material begins to fall away; she lets it go, almost. Yet still, she covers breasts and tries to hide bush and vulva, to little avail.
Finally, she succumbs, accepts the inevitable and lies on the cross, arms outstretched, accepting her fate.
Bound tightly with rope at each wrist and at ankles; all is now ready for the lift into the upright.
When first raised, her strength allows for standing, but very soon the ache in arms, the tension in thighs, makes her slump a little, then a little more. She hangs on her arms, back hurting, shoulders aflame with pain. At least they hadn't flogged her beforehand as she understood was common practice in antiquity, so flesh on her back was not sore or broken. Nor had they raped her, as common criminals or terrorists might have done. Nevertheless, what she was undergoing now was no picnic.
Soon she will begin to writhe, this way and that, hips out to one side then the other, back arching, legs stretching, then bending, as she begins the dance of the newly-crucified. The only consolation is that limbs are tied, not pierced by nails; small comfort.
Her head falls forward; she begins the long fight to endure the pitiless agony of crucifixion.
PS
If you like the images and the storyline (or the idea of a narrative with sequenced images) then please be very generous with votes and comments so that I can assess reactions and either do more or quietly abandon the concept. Thanks
PPS Support appreciated 2020-12-25
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