CruxNico

DAY I - The Night

The light was beginning to falter. The execution site had emptied of other men as spectators had returned to the city and the few remaining travelers had gone to find shelter for the night. The men from the execution detail too had decamped and returned to the city, leaving only a single guard to watch over the dead and dying men on their crosses. Sam watched as the guard walked over slowly to his cross. The man was in his mid-twenties with short black hair. He had stripped down at some point, wearing only his baltea with its leather straps and soldier's sandals. He was somewhat muscular and had a strong build, as was expected of someone with combat training, but a slight softness around the middle betrayed the fact that he had been stationed for a while in this cushy provincial town. Drinking, whoring and nailing slaves to crosses was probably the extent of the man's physical exertions at the moment. As he reached and stood before Sam, mustering him from head to toe, a devilish grin formed on the man's face and Sam was reminded again, that this wasn't just a soldier. The man was an executioner. He was his executioner. This man was charged with putting him to death, with torturing him to death. The grin on the soldier's face suddenly seemed cruel. He took a step towards Sam, standing directly in front of him and reached out a hand, grabbing him by the neck. The hand began to wander, slowly sliding first along the nape of Sam's neck, then downwards to his chest, squeezing a pectoral, then along the side of his torso further down. Sam winced with pain as the hand brushed over the deep gashes left by the whip, eliciting a dark chuckle from the executioner. It didn't take long until the man's hand reached its obvious destination and Sam yelled out as his executioner crudely squeezed and twisted his cock and balls.

"You're quite the pretty one, ain't you?" The man began to knead and stroke Sam's cock while he continued to speak. "And well-hung too. I wonder... Even though you're a slave, with that kind of equipment... Probably the pitcher, right? Even a patrician wouldn't let a horse dick like that go to waste." Sam tried to look away, but the executioner grabbed him by the chin and forced his head back forward. "Now, now. No false modesty, slave. Not like you have anything left to lose, right? Well..." The man let his gaze drop meaningfully to Sam's crotch. "Apart from those things of course, but since you'll be parted from them soon enough, I wouldn't worry about that." He grinned cruelly again. "Anyway..." The man grabbed the wooden shield hung around Sam's neck and slid it over, dropping it to the side. Then he kneeled down and untied the rope binding Sam's feet to the upright. As he stood up again, grinning, his hand reached for Sam's left ass-cheek and squeezed it. Then his hand travelled further down to Sam's left thigh, gripping it. Using his other hand he opened his belt, letting the baltea drop to the ground. Sam didn't need to look down to confirm that the other man was sporting an erection since it suddenly pressed right up against him. It dawned on him why his feet had not yet been nailed to the upright. Something must've shown on his face, because the executioner's grin deepened as he tugged on Sam's thigh, lifting it slowly. Sam cried out as his balance suddenly shifted and a new flash of pain burst from the nail in his left wrist, as his foot lost contact with the ground. The soldier grabbed his right thigh now as well and lifted Sam's legs into the air, hooking them over his biceps. Sam cried out as his body suddenly slid on the cross, his scourged back grinding against the raw wood of the upright, his arms extending and most of his body weight abruptly shifted to the nails in his wrists. The pain was blinding, overwhelming and let everything beforehand pale in comparison. A few fingers on his hands twitched involuntarily as the nails in his wrists moved ever so slightly under the strain, forcing their way through muscles and nerves as they did so. Sam  screamed again and again while the executioner holding his legs adjusted his crotch to line up with Sam's ass, pushing Sam's legs and thighs back against his stomach, his calves shifting from the man's biceps over his shoulders.  It didn't take long for Sam to feel the wet tip of his executioner's hard cock press against his hole and he looked at the man in front of him from below the sweaty bangs clinging to his forehead while he clenched his teeth in an attempt to stop his own screams. The soldier was studying him with a grin, letting his gaze pointedly roam over Sam's naked torso and now fully exposed armpits before locking eyes with him again. Sam felt the pressure against his asshole increase as the executioner leaned forward, but the pressure of the man's body against his legs was thankfully relieving some of the strain on his arms. "Just so you know what name you'll have to scream out while I fuck you: I'm Caius." The executioner - Caius - looked down between Sam's now spread legs then back at Sam. "You really got a nice tight little hole down there. Let me fuck that open for you." Suppressing a cry of pain, Sam tried to look defiant even though he was completely helpless. "My, my. Look at that. Someone's still being a little bitch. You should be thankful everyone wants to fuck you, slave, otherwise you'd already have spent the day dancing on nailed feet." Caius leaned further forward, increasing the pressure of his body against Sam's and Sam gasped as he felt the other man's cock start to force itself into him. He leaned back his head, grinding his teeth together in a desperate attempt not to scream, but then a sudden flash of pain spiked in his groin as his sphincter gave way and he cried out as he was impaled on Caius' engorged cock. It was too large, shoved in too fast and there was way too little spit to make the sensation anything less but brutally painful. He felt the cock being pulled out half-way again, then being rammed back into him, deeper this time. Caius pulled back again, further this time, then chained the next stroke, plunging his ramrod cock into Sam again and again, making him scream on every thrust of his cock. Every jolt of Sam's body under the onslaught caused another burst of agony from his nailed arms to flash through him, mingling with the spiking pain from his violated asshole. Caius cock was thick and long, stretching Sam's hole to its breaking point and the man certainly knew how to use it - if the goal was to inflict as much pain as possible. Sam could've sworn the cock penetrated him deeper and deeper with every repetition, seemingly impaling him, splitting him in two. Caius continued fucking him, relentless and merciless, sometimes picking up the pace, sometimes slowing down, occasionally taking more time for a thrust, on and on and on. Sam didn't want to look at his tormentor, but he couldn't avoid doing so entirely with Caius constantly letting his gaze wander over Sam's body, seemingly drinking in every bit of the helpless naked man before him. After a while, Sam couldn't help but moan in between screams, but his cock remained flaccid, flopping about with the movement of each of Caius' thrusts. Caius suddenly pressed forward even further, his face only inches from Sam's now and Sam couldn't help but look at the man brutally fucking him. Caius's pupils were blown wide with lust and he was panting and starting to sweat from exertion, plainly enjoying what he was doing. He suddenly leaned over to lick one of Sam's sweaty armpits. "Was really wanting to do that the whole day," he grinned as he resumed pumping Sam's ass. Sam rocked again and again under each of Caius' strokes, his ass filled deep and his hole stretched wide by the man's thick and hard cock. Sam cried out again and again, as he continued to be fucked, Caius' prick drilling into him deeper and deeper, again and again.

In between thrusts the man raping him took the time to lick sweat from Sam's chest, his neck, now and then biting into his nipples. His executioner was using and abusing Sam as he saw fit and as was his right. Sam knew that there were essentially no limits to the depravities a soldier charged with executing a slave was allowed to go to, the need for a brutal public spectacle relaxing most common rules of decency both for the condemned and for his executioner. For all intents and purposes his executioner owned Sam and could fuck, rape, mutilate and torture him as he pleased, as long as he did not overly shorten Sam's suffering on the cross. The depth of a man's agony and torture on the cross depended a lot on the imagination, interest and not least on the enthusiasm of the men charged with putting him to death. Sam howled out in pain as Caius drove his cock home once again. The man chuckled.

"Didn't think you'd get impaled on your cross too, did you?"

Sam tried to blink away the sweat dripping into his eyes. It had grown cooler as the night deepened, but getting brutally fucked while hanging from nailed wrists wasn't just agonizingly painful, it was also taxing on his muscles as he desperately tried to keep himself in a position which caused the least pain. Absurdly enough this meant that he had to push with his legs, which were still hooked over Caius' shoulders, lifting himself somewhat to ease the strain on his wrists, using the man raping him as a support to slightly alleviate his suffering. Of course Caius grabbed him again and again at his hips to pull him down again on the cross, otherwise Caius' cock would slip out of Sam's asshole. Sam constantly pushing himself upwards with Caius pulling him down again, quickly led to an absurd countermovement where Sam, in anticipation of Caius pulling him down, let himself slide down a bit after pushing on his legs which Caius timed with his upward thrusts into Sam. Within only a few minutes their movements became synchronized, with Sam's ass coming down on Caius cock with each of the man's thrusts. He was fucking himself on his executioner's cock, Sam realized. He helped the man to rape him. And he couldn't help it, couldn't stop it, because it was the only way to decrease his own pain, if only minimally.

It went on and on, Caius showing little signs of relenting, his cock sliding in and out of Sam again and again. He varied his speed, hammering into Sam at an almost frantic pace one minute, then taking him slow and deep the next. Sam felt that his hole had gone loose and slick over the last few minutes. Sam had never been fucked before in his life. Oh, he had dreamt about it, sure. But coming from a tribe where this kind of behavior could get you killed, he had never dared act on his impulses. And even though he had learned in his last few years of slavery that they didn't mind it here, he had never been able to let go of his inhibitions in that regard and had only fucked other men. Now his secret desire to be drilled into by another man's cock was ironically being fulfilled while he was in no position to enjoy it. And he didn't. The pain from his wrists was too brutal, the humiliation too great, the knowledge that the man fucking him was also the man putting him to death too chilling. Still, despite everything, as he looked down, he saw that his own cock reacted to another man being inside him. Over the last few minutes it had gone from limp to almost hard, its impressive length now raised upwards between his thighs, much to the delight of his grinning executioner.

"Would you look at that... horse dick likes being my bitch!" He increased the speed of his thrusts again, panting just like Sam was by now. "Gods! Look... at the size of that thing!... Really... I mean... I fucked my... share of guys on the cross, but... never seen one pop a boner... and rock hard, too!" With that he pressed again forward, crushing Sam against the cross, pushing his thighs against his stomach. With his left hand he grabbed Sam's jowl and using thumb and index finger he pushed into his cheeks to force his jaws apart, preventing him from closing his teeth. Before Sam could even react, their lips smashed together, Caius' tongue invading Sam's mouth and finding his and licking over it. Like the ass-fucking, there was no gentleness to be found, Caius was simply taking what he wanted from a man who could not defend himself. Sam tried to wriggle away, but Caius hand and the cross behind Sam's head worked almost as a vice, keeping him where he was and forcing him to endure the 'kiss' while he still felt the man's rock hard cock sheathed to the hilt in his asshole, his own cock and balls crushed between his and Caius stomach. To his horror and shame his own erection was still raging, his cockhead sensitive to being rubbed against the bare skin of Caius' stomach. When the kiss ended, Caius licked over Sam's lips and then quickly bit into them, eliciting a yelp from Sam as he tasted blood.

Caius pulled back again and resumed his thrusts into Sam and whether he wanted to or not, Sam fell back into riding the man. Pain washed over him every time Caius cock slammed into him, rocking him on the cross. Still, his own erection did not only hold, instead, when Caius gave it a few jerks, Sam actually blew a load of his own all over his front, only seconds before he felt Caius release inside his ass. He had just been fucked - raped - while being executed and to make his shame complete had not only taken a man's cum up the ass, but shot his own at the same time all over himself.

Even worse was the realization that they were not alone. Two shadows stood close by and a few chuckles were heard. Sam had thought it was only the two of them here, but it seemed a few of the soldiers had returned.

"Caius, Caius, Caius. You greedy bastard, you just can't help yourself. You were supposed to wait for us!"

To Sam's surprise Caius, who still had Sam's calves over his shoulders and was - aside from sandals - just as naked as him, was neither surprised nor did he give any impression of being embarrassed at being caught with his cock stuck in a man's ass. Instead he smirked at the man who had just spoken up.

"You know I have never been able to let a good hole go to waste, Andros. And first turn was always going to be mine, you lost the dice roll, remember?"

"Hmm." The man named Andros stepped closer and Sam recognized him as one of the other soldiers from the execution detail, now in civilian clothing. "It's a matter of common courtesy, Caius. I mean, we all enjoy a good spectacle as well. At least we came early enough to see the grand finale." Sam felt the man's gaze wander up and down his naked, cum-splattered body. "Did I really see that right? That guy not only popped a boner, but also blew a load?"

"Yeah!" Caius positively beamed, finally stepping back, pulling his deflating cock out of Sam's asshole and shrugging off Sam's calves. Sam cried out in pain as his legs dropped to the ground and his full body weight shifted to his wrists for a moment before he could get his feet under him to take some of the weight.

"Never seen a guy on the cross get a hard-on, let alone cum." Andros pondered Sam. "I mean, he's not yet completely crucified, but the pain should make anything like that already completely impossible."

"Well, thank my wonder dick! It makes even a crucified bitch cum." Caius grinned broadly.

Andros rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest in a gesture of mock scolding. "Caius, really! sometimes you're just crass. But... anyway. If you're done with the man for now... and you don't mind Marcellus?" The third man, a dark-skinned guy, shook his head.

"Go ahead, you know I like sloppy, slicked up seconds. Or rather... thirds."

Andros quickly stripped his tunic, revealing that he was naked underneath, save for a leather belt strapped across his chest. He stepped up to Sam who glowered at him. The soldier was about 30, well-trained and in somewhat better shape than Caius. His cock was already engorged and twitching with anticipation.

"Get- get the fuck away from me!" It was a dumb idea to even say it, Sam knew. He couldn't stop the man from doing what he obviously intended to do. But Sam couldn't help himself - his asshole hurt, his arms burned with pain, in fact his whole body felt as if it was bathed in pain and the humiliation of having just been fucked until he shot a load by another executioner made his face burn with shame. Maybe with enough bravado, enough shouting, at least the others could be made to lose interest in burying their dicks in his ass. He mustered what was probably a fairly defiant stare given his situation and leveled it at the man approaching him.

"Would you look at that!" Andros actually laughed in his face. "Someone thinks he can be choosy!" He came to a stop just inches from Sam's face, looking him straight in the eye. Clenching his teeth, jaws visibly working, Sam held the stare. "I think you have the wrong idea here, slave." Andros voice had dropped low and was suddenly sounding dangerous. "From the moment the magistrate handed you to us, you became our little plaything. The boss doesn't care much how you die, as long as you do and the crowds are sufficiently entertained by your death. He usually also wants to see a few days of suffering when we crucify a guy, but he doesn't check whether it's two days or two weeks." Sam broke eye contact at that, but Andros grabbed his chin and forced him to look back at him. "Basically, we", he gestured to himself and the other two men, who were watching with smirks on their faces, "decide how long you last on your cross and how painful it's going to be." Andros nodded over to Anton's cross. "That guy's lucky. A benefactor paid us a good chunk of money to let him expire, so he'll die tomorrow." Andros leaned closer still, his breath ghosting over Sam's lips. "You won't be so lucky though. Doesn't seem like you have any friends here in this town. In fact, we had a few people pay today for some additional... modifications done to you." He grinned again. "So, you see, slave. You better be a good boy and perform for me and Marcellus here at least as well as you did for Caius. Otherwise... I wouldn't be surprised, you might last well into a second week on the cross. You see, while even a guy with your body, even if well hydrated, will at some point die on the cross, the whole thing can be stretched to a point where you starve to death before anything else. Our record's 16 days, if you want to know, though we didn't scourge that guy." Andros paused, studying Sam's face as if to check the effects of his little sermon. Sam's heart was racing, blood roaring in his ears. "So..." Andros ran a finger along Sam's chin, down his neck, circling his Adam's apple and then further down between his pecs. "Are you going to be a good little slave and do as you are told?" Sam swallowed hard. He had no choice, never had a choice. As absurd as it seemed, anything but complete submission, meek servility, would make  his situation even worse. So he lowered his eyes and nodded. He had to accept that he would be put to death by the men in front of him and that he would have to service them even as they tortured him. "I couldn't hear you, slave!"

Sam couldn't stop himself from glowering at Andros, but finally he pressed out the words between clenched teeth. "Yes, Dominus."

"Beg," Andros replied. Sam was confused for a moment, until the man continued. "Beg me to fuck you, slave. Beg me to crucify you." Even as he spoke he picked up Sam's legs just as Caius had done before, lifting them up and hooking them over his shoulders, causing Sam to slide down on the cross until his arms were fully extended and he had to cry out as renewed pain flashed down his arms. Desperate to reduce the strain on his wrists, Sam again tried to support himself with his legs and pushed against the man in front of him. But Andros grabbed Sam's hips and pushed him further down, putting even more pressure on the nails in his wrists, doubling and tripling the pain, making Sam scream. "Beg, you worthless little fucker!"

It was too much. Sam had already submitted, but he wouldn't beg to be raped. He wouldn't beg to be put to death, much less would he beg for crucifixion. He screamed again as Andros increased the downward pressure and he felt the man's cock push into his already sore asshole. Sam howled as Andros continued to push down his hips, pulling him down on the cross, putting more and more pressure on Sam's already overextended arms. Sam tasted bile as a new flash of pain shot down his left arm and he felt the nail inside the wrist move. He screamed, then yelled, finally. "Yes, yes! I beg you!"

"Go on... what do you want, slave?" Andros smiled.

"Fuck me! Please fuck me, Dominus!" The pressure on his wrists suddenly lessened as the executioner stopped pushing him down, but didn't release the tension.

"And?" Andros raised an eyebrow and Sam lowered his head, defeated.

"Please crucify me," Sam said. Andros cocked his head, eyebrow still raised, obviously expecting more. Sam clenched his teeth and shook his head, but a quick tug at his hips made him yell and he finally relented. "Nail me to a cross! Please nail me naked to this cross, Dominus! Nail my feet to this cross."

While Sam was speaking, Andros had started fucking him at a slow and leisurely pace. "I also want to make you scream. I want to torture you, I want to cut off your balls and stuff them down your throat until you choke on them."

Sam wasn't stupid. Andros was dictating now. Dictating what he wanted to hear from the slave he was fucking. Sam obeyed. "Please make me scream, please torture me." A hard thrust and a tug at his hips nudged him forward and Sam heard a sob escape him, before he continued. "I beg you to... cut off my balls and stuff them down my throat, Dominus."

Andros suddenly leaned forward and smashed their lips together. Unlike Caius before he wasn't prying Sam's jaws apart, so he'd have the option of resisting the kiss, but Sam was suddenly afraid, the last few sentences still ringing in his ears, the images accompanying what he had just begged for vivid in his mind, so instead he returned the kiss in a desperate attempt to please. As the kiss went on, Andros fucked him harder. When he broke the kiss, Sam heard Caius chuckle, shaking his head in amusement.

"Every time we fuck a man on the cross. Every damn time you get them to beg you for death, pain, and castration. I don't know how you do it."

Andros was thrusting into Sam rapidly now, but he took the time to grin back at Caius and shout, "You've got your golden cock to make them cum, I have to make do with a golden tongue to make them beg!"

Andros was quicker than Caius in cumming inside Sam, the slave this time barely bringing his cock to half-mast, which caused the man some disappointment. As he was putting back on his clothes, he eyed Sam's crotch. "At some point in the next few days we'll talk about your cock's lack of enthusiasm just now, slave. I feel a bit offended at the lack of a... standing ovation. I may not be satisfied with simply cutting off your balls now." With that he gave Sam a slap on his bare ass and turned away, whistling to the third man and waving. "Your turn now, Marcellus. Just make sure he stays fit for the coming days."

Sam felt weak in the knees, unsteady on his feet and if he hadn't been held up by the nails in his wrists, he'd probably have collapsed to the ground. He was gripped by terror and panic - it was all so, so much worse than anything he had ever seen or even imagined. His body was shivering all over, trembling uncontrollably not just from the strains of the physical punishment and the fading rush of being fucked, but also from sheer despair and fear.

As he looked up, he saw the third man stand a few feet away, arms crossed before his chest, looking him up and down. Andros and Caius had gone over to the small tree, back to the little encampment for guards, obviously satisfied for tonight. The soldier still with Sam was fairly dark-skinned with extremely short, almost shaven, black hair. He had gotten rid of his civilian tunic as well, revealing a broad-chested, sculpted torso. He came closer, standing only two feet from Sam now, who was already resigned to the fact that he was going to get fucked yet again, though this time with a fat black cock.

"You know... I always wonder, whenever Andros does that..." Marcellus continued to stare at Sam and the slave wasn't sure whether he was supposed to say anything. "Why do they comply?" He walked a few steps up and down in front of the cross, keeping Sam fixed with his eyes. "Why did you beg him to crucify you? Rape you? Cut your balls? I mean, he told you to, sure... But why? It doesn't give you anything, does it? Regardless of what he said, it won't shorten your time on the cross, you won't suffer less, you have to know that, right? It just humiliates you further, when you give in to him."

Yeah, Sam knew that. Of course. But hearing the man in front of him saying it out loud, still made an irrational part of his brain cry out in horror. The executioner's question laid bare that he had just abased himself for nothing. He had begged for crucifixion. He had begged to be put to death naked and screaming. Sure it was a submission extracted under extreme duress, but still, he had begged not only for death, but for humiliation and pain. Sam swallowed. He had no good reason. Sure, the pain, the threats. But it wasn't like him not giving in could actually make his situation worse. Since he had no answer, he replied with a question. "Why- why- do you do this?" he panted.

Marcellus shrugged and considered him a few heartbeats. Sam was almost sure he would receive no answer, but then Marcellus spoke up. "I could say that it's my duty... which it is, true, strictly speaking. But we here," he gestured to himself and over to where the other two soldiers were resting, "are all volunteers." He paused, then continued. "We are a hundred legionaries in this godsforsaken place, give or take, and there is precious little to do apart from a bit of guard duty. So... boredom would be another answer." Marcellus looked Sam's naked body up and down again. "Not the truth for either of us three tough. We do it, because we want to. Because it's fun. I mean, seriously. It's usually the fit young men that get the cross around here, so if you're into that, this is practically an open buffet here."

"So, you gonna fuck me too?" Sam asked, without even thinking.

"Yeah, sure. From what I've seen these two have already fucked you good and open. Usually I'd not be averse to burying this," he pointed towards the cock now standing erect in his crotch, "in your hole, but I don't think it'd still hurt you enough to make you scream." Now he grinned for the first time and this grin was magnitudes crueler than either Caius' or Andros' had been. "No, slave. Your Dominus has something way more interesting for your ass." He bent down and picked up something. It took Sam a few seconds to recognize what the man now held in his hands as he stepped close to him.

"No! No! Please, gods! NO!" Sam writhed on the cross, against all reason trying to break free, agony shooting down his nailed arms with every ill-advised movement. Marcellus grinned as he held the stake against Sam's body. It was more of a thick branch, though fairly straight, it's girth about that of a grown man's biceps. Its tip had been roughly sharpened, but the rest of it was simply shorn of lesser branches and twigs, making the surface uneven and covered with stumps and knots. Just from looking at the thing, Sam knew the thing would rip his asshole wide open when it went in.

Marcellus' grin just grew broader at Sam's desperate pleas for mercy, but he frowned when a shout rang out. "Stop! Stop!" Andros was walking over quickly to them.

"Didn't you hear what I said before?!" he scolded the other soldier. "This one's supposed to last!" He grabbed the stake from Marcellus hands and Sam exhaled with relief. "What do you think's going to happen if you ram that up into him and nick something important? Who's going to explain to the magistrate that the slave he ordered crucified just up and died before the second day because we impaled him? Do you want to join the guy up there for disobedience? Gods, Marcellus!"

Marcellus looked confused. "But... you said...?"

Andros sighed and pinched his nose. "Yes, yes. Of course we'll shove that thing into him. But we need him a few days on the cross first before we can risk that. If he dies four days in, we can always blame it on the sun and exposure. Not if he kicks the bucket now! Really, haven't you done this often enough to know better?"

Marcellus looked embarrassed, but also slightly offended. "I do know how to impale a guy without outright killing him..." he mumbled. When Andros continued to look at him sternly, he relented. "Sorry, chief. I might've gotten carried away. Won't happen again."

Andros sighed. "Fine. Just have your fun, blow your load, but don't damage the slave!" He grabbed the stake from Marcellus. "I am taking that with me for now." Looking at Sam he held out the stake. "And don't for a moment think this thing isn't going to end up inside of you, wretch." Sam's cock twitched without rhyme or reason at those last words and Andros stern expression changed to a grin. "Looks like me and Marcellus aren't the only ones looking forward to that little event, eh? You really are a needy bitch." With that, he turned and walked off, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe it.

Sam wasn't turned on, he was terrified. Impalement during crucifixion wasn't unheard of, but he had only seen it once. Which was somewhat surprising since a torture with that much potential for self-inflicted humiliation of the condemned should be a go-to for any executioner. Put something between a crucified man's legs and he'll try anything to use it as support to relieve the stress on his arms and legs. Which meant the victim would try to sit on whatever was put underneath his ass. And if that 'whatever' was a stake with a somewhat sharpened tip, there was only one logical hole where it could end up in. Sam swallowed. The blonde they had impaled that way a few months back had at first tried to sit on the stake with one asscheek. Then he had changed position and tried the other. After sliding off again and again, he had finally relented and slid the stake in between, lowering himself only minutely onto it at first, then, as the hours passed by, lower and lower, finally hanging on the cross just as before and having to come up for air in regular intervals just the same, but now with the added humiliation and pain of sliding up and down a stake he had impaled himself on, fucking himself. As he watched, and yes, Sam had watched crucifixions and enjoyed watching them, just the same as the men watching his, he had realized the condemned slave's mistake. He had tried to use the stake as support and initially it had provided it. A puckered up asshole was tight enough and the condemned maybe had thought he could hold the stake at bay with that muscle. When it slid in for the first time he'd probably been able to stop the descent simply by clamping down. And he probably also had been able to just heave himself back up far enough the first few dozen or a hundred times to free himself of the stake again. But with every repetition the sphincter had widened, with every repetition he had slid a bit further down, probably without really noticing at first, while at the same time the stamina of his arms and legs continued to deteriorate. Until at some point he hadn't quite been able to pull the stake out of himself and instead had remained impaled, sliding down further and further every time he tried to heave himself off of it, his asshole stretching open even widener with every repetition, the support the stake gave him on the cross lessening.

Sam knew. Sam wouldn't make the same mistake. He would outsmart his executioners. He'd not give them satisfaction, instead he's simply avoid using the stake for support.

He suddenly felt a hand on his cheek and startled. He'd clean forgotten about the soldier still with him. He glanced down. Marcellus' erect cock wasn't quite as long as his own would be at full attention but it was a good deal thicker. It would hurt like a bitch going in. His limp cock twitched at the thought and Sam cursed it as his executioner grinned widely.

"My comrades made you cum and beg, slave. But I bet even without that stake I can make you scream louder than both of them combined."

And he could. And he made Sam scream. And howl. And roar. With pain, with agony, with shame, with despair.