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    Four images, two girls - and a story.  It's all in the mind; think about it.


    It was a hot day, the grass was very dry and they were both very thirsty, but Joanne and her small group had walked the pair all the way over to where the big, old, wooden cross was standing at the edge of the field.  Jo had let the girls remain wrapped in old sheets, an unusual concession to their modesty, although she and her team had stripped naked from the beginning, true to form.

    The device could be seen from some distance away and, as the party made its way across the expanse of field, the two girls became ever more aware of the fate that was soon to be theirs.

    When close to the frame, Jo called a halt and let the pair contemplate the next move.  She wasn't sadistic as such, just in charge of things.
    Both girls kept coverings wrapped around them, in a last desperate attempt to keep a semblance of modesty, a tenuous link with normality.

    The taller of the two, a slender, willowy blonde whose hair cascaded over her shoulders, stood as if transfixed, trying to take it all in. 

    It was an impossible task, for who could ever imagine that she'd one day be in the middle of a field faced with being hanged naked on a huge wooden cross. 
    Yes, hanged on it, crucified naked the boss woman had told her.  She was vaguely grateful for not being stripped naked at the beginning, a rare dispensation one of the women in the team had whispered to her. Now though, she would have to let go, of the cover, of modesty, of her freedom to do anything but submit to crucifixion, here, on this cross.  She felt the warmth, trickling down her legs . . .

    Her red-headed former colleague at the organisation was behind, coping more ably with the situation and the prospect of herself having to suffer the pain and indignity of being crucified naked, letting the group ogle her sex and do whatever foul things that were part of the affair.
    Redhead, who had come to terms with destiny more readily than blondie, spoke softly ~
    "Which of us should go first?" she enquired of her erstwhile co-worker.  "Would you prefer to watch me writhe up there before you, or would you choose to have me watch you struggle?  I don't mind either way and I doubt if our executioners could give a damn."

    For what seemed an age, blondie did not reply, then finally gave a response ~
    "If you're tied up there I can watch your tits swing as you move about.  Those women said we'd move a lot, the 'dance of the newly-crucified' they called it and, well, you were always a superb dancer at all the parties we attended . . ."
    "Fine by me" agreed the red-haired one.  "I suppose they want to make a start very soon, so . . ."

    At that, she turned to face Jo and her team, shamelessly dropped the material onto the ground and stood stark naked in front of them all. 
    Blondie turned too, unsure of what came next.

    "I'm ready, you bastards" announced redhead, "I surrender; do with me what you want.  Hang me on it; crucify me!"

    "That's very magnanimous of you" replied Jo, somewhat tartly, "bearing in mind that the whole purpose of us being here is to crucify the pair of you.  However, the gesture is accepted and you'll be put up on the cross first.  Stand with your back against it, you can choose which side you want, if you have a preference for countryside views . . .  We don't have all day; get over there."

    Very quickly, wrists were wrapped with ropes that were thrown over the crossbars, redhead was dragged off the ground and arms held next to the wood, as legs were grabbed, bent and a rope tied around her feet onto the upright post, so that she could lift her body and breath.  One of the team put a ladder to the frame and wound the ropes round the horizontal beam, securing her in a proper cruciform shape.  She was crucified, no doubt about it.

    "Your turn now, blondie", shouted Jo, more to wake the woman from her reverie than to impart any new knowledge. 
    "Get rid of that cover; you're about to be crucified and we do that to bare females, so get naked.  Put yourself against the cross, back to the vertical, behind your friend; quickly now!  The sooner you're up there too, the sooner it will be over and we can go have some fun."
    "This isn't your weird, perverted kind of fun then?" queried blondie, letting go of the material but covering tits and pussy with her hands, an instinctive if useless reaction to lost modesty.

    She was seized by two of the team, resisting weakly, wrists bound rapidly and hauled up in the same way as was the redhead, quickly, brutally, efficiently.  The ladder was perched more precariously this time, but the task of securing arms to the horizontal was accomplished speedily, proficiently.  Much yelling was heard until her feet too had been locked to the vertical, the cross rocking ever so slightly as the pair of them began the dance of the newly-crucified, seeking some non-existent position that would relieve them of the pain that accompanied their predicament.

    Jo stood looking for a while, then circled the big scaffold, admiring the beauty that was two first-rate, young women hanging naked back-to-back, high on a simple cross.  It was the first time she'd crucified two at one in this way, but sometimes they took a long time to die and if it were done sequentially they could be here for a very long time.  Jo always liked to let things happen naturally, preferring not to break a subject's legs in order to bring-on the end. 
    It was just her way.
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