La Crucifems, Part 15

The October meeting of the Sisterhood came and went, and my wife was still confident that we would receive the invitation to appear for the festivities during the final meeting, to be held on New Year's Eve. She reported to me that the man tortured at the meeting had a cock that was actually larger than mine, by a total measurement of slightly more than one inch. However, although he was initially quite willing to be secured to the cross, and even accepted the first nail quite well, as the second was being driven through one of his balls, he began to whimper and then to beg to be freed.

Chrissy said that the man's wife was extremely embarrassed by what happened, and she had to actually threaten her husband with castration before he would shut up. At the after-session meeting, where the man was expected to willingly serve the sisters, both as cunnilinguist and toilet, he did the first eagerly, but failed miserably at the second. My wife said that several members were openly suggesting that he be secured in an old-fashion closet that was on display in the Sisterhood's museum in Joanna's home.

That particular model forced the man to assume an uncomfortable crouching position in a waterproof enclosure. Water would then be added to a level that forced him to tilt his head as far back as he could, and that would place his face immediately below the seat. It would then be his choice to either serve the sisters' needs, or to drown.

As Chrissy related this story, I thought to ask a question that had occurred to me some time in the past, but had never come up in any of our chats. "Has any man ever died while being tortured by the Sisterhood?"

Chrissy looked reassuringly at me, saying, "You don't need to worry about any such thing, my love. Joanna is an expert physician, and she keeps a close watch on the health of the men brought before the sisters for punishment."

I was comforted by this, since I knew it certainly applied to me. Joanna had done two complete physical checkups on me during the five months we had been acquainted, and she was always eager to inspect me both before and following sessions at her house. Still, something else bothered me.

"Surely it's entirely possible for a man to have a heart attack while being tortured, whether he enjoys it or not. I know there have been times when my heart was pounding like a steel mill, and it seems likely that a man with even a very small weakness would be in jeopardy."

Chrissy then looked seriously at me, saying, "Gloria said that there was one time in the past when a man did die while receiving punishment. As you guessed, it was a heart attack. Since Joanna was the 'attending physician' she attributed the heart failure to natural causes, and no autopsy was ever done. That's a good thing too, since the nail holes in his cock and balls would have been hard to explain."

I continued my line of thought, saying, "I was wondering about the man who made the special gift to the Sisterhood. Did he recover from the ceremony?"

Chrissy replied, "Oh yes. Joanna says that the removal of his genitals was actually easier on him than some of the tortures you've been through. He had been given some sort of drug to prevent shock, which is supposedly the worst thing that can happen as far as causing death. His passing out at the end was more because of total mental exhaustion than shock. He spent the night in Joanna's infirmary, and left the next day under his own power. He wrote a really nice thank-you letter to the Sisterhood a few weeks ago, telling us how happy he is now to be free of all the sexual compulsions that used to drive him."

I said, "I was wondering about another thing along that line. You told me once about the child molester whose wife offered his 'special gifts' to the sisters, and that following their removal, they were fed to a dog. Was that what was done with the cock and balls of the man you helped with?"

Chrissy looked directly at me, and I knew she was about to tell me something that I might find shocking, and she wanted to gauge my reaction. "No. Actually that part of the ritual is spelled out in detail in the ceremony. After the man was treated, he witnessed the preparation of his genitals, and then the sharing of them among the sisters."

I was completely in the dark as to her meaning, and after thinking about it for a few seconds, admitted my confusion. What she said next did startle me, but in the context of the situation I certainly didn't find it disgusting or repulsive. She said, "The Sisterhood honors those men who voluntarily come before us seeking help in overcoming their carnal natures. To show our respect for him, his genitals are cooked and divided into eleven equal portions, then eaten by the sisters."

I was completely overcome for a short time, and must have been sitting there with my mouth hanging open. Chrissy smiled and said, "Did you need something to eat or drink, my love?" I realized the meaning of her question and closed my mouth, asking, "You actually ate his cock and balls?"

"Well, even given the size of his cock, the portions were quite small when divided by eleven. We each had just a taste of each part. And no, before you ask, it didn't taste like chicken." She smiled, then we both laughed.

I thought some more, then said, "I think that would truly be an honor for a man. He has surrendered his most precious parts to you, and then you take them into your body, where they become a part of your body. It's beautiful, when you think about it."

As my wife appeared to be in a mellow mood with thoughts of the special ceremony, I thought that maybe she would answer a question that had been nagging at me for many months, so I asked, "Can you tell me anything about what will happen during the New Year's Eve meeting?" I was half-afraid that she would react with anger, as she had when I had questioned her about the "special gift" session.

Instead of looking angrily at me, she hugged me close and said in a quiet voice, "Until you are voted as the sister's choice, I can't reveal any of the details. Surely you know that by now. I can say that what will be done to you at that time will give you pain that is agonizing beyond your wildest fantasies. If you can hold your curiosity in check for another month, then I'll tell you everything you want to know."

She continued. "As you know, the Sisterhood requires that a man come to the cross willingly, and suffers his tortures in the same spirit. That requirement is even more strongly enforced during the year-end session, since it represents a greater sacrifice by the man."

"Your sacrifice will be even greater than most, since Joanna has selected me to be her successor as Grand Mistress of this branch of our Society. As my husband, you must be shown to be worthy to stand beside me as I assume those duties. Our fate is truly in the hands of the Great Mother, She-Who-Knows." As she said that name, she drew a large circle on her chest, encompassing both breasts.

I had never before seen her do that, and asked its meaning.

"It's the symbol of Gaia, she who others call God or Allah, or untold other names. I probably shouldn't have let you see me make that sign, or told you its meaning. The Sisterhood is very protective of its secrets, since we have been persecuted so very much in the dark past. Please don't tell anyone else what was said here among you and I."

I assured Chrissy that my lips were sealed, and that I would never talk to anyone about what had passed between us here today. She then said, "When we lead this branch of the Sisterhood, you and I, you'll know everything about it, and you'll understand why there is such a need for secrecy. The memories of the 'witch hunts' in past ages are still very much in the minds of all the sisters, and until we reach the position of strength that will inevitably come, then we have to guard each other. Once men are no longer allowed to run wild, with their emotions and thought processes totally in the control of those worthless things between their legs, then there will be no more secrets. Someday that will happen, my love, someday."

I was completely in agreement with my wife in everything she had said. One has only to look at the state of the world, with fanatics willing to murder their fellows in the name of their so-called "religions", to know that males are inherently unable to control themselves. I pray that during my lifetime the Sisterhood rises to positions of control and influence, and institutes the changes it has been planning for many long centuries. I sincerely believe that the world will be a better place then.

After we had been silent for several minutes, each lost in our own private reflections about what we had shared here today, Chrissy hugged me tighter and said, "I learned another thing recently that may interest you. What we had thought of as 'Joanna's house' is actually owned by the Sisterhood, and it is always occupied by the Grand Mistress. I guess that means that we don't have to look for another place after all."

That she had begun to assume that she would be installed in that position in the space of a year and a half was made clear when she continued, "When we move there, Joanna and Bill will return to the estate that they own in that same area. It's been pretty-much empty for all the years that she's been the Grand Mistress, because they didn't want to try to find someone to rent it who wouldn't be scared off by what's in the basement there." We smiled, then laughed, as we envisioned some innocent young couple inspecting the house prior to renting it, and what their reactions would be when they opened the basement door and turned on the lights.

As soon as we had quieted, Chrissy said those words I love to hear, "I want to torture you again as soon as possible. When can you be ready?" My cock began to twitch, and I felt that special thrill I get when my wife suggests that another session is imminent. It had been less than a week since the session with Lyle in Gloria's basement, but that had done nothing that required healing of my cock and balls before they could again enjoy my wife's attentions, so I said, "How about right now? I'm ready to go to the basement as soon as you can stand up."

My eagerness pleased her, and she said, "Patience, lover. I want to hear you screaming just as much as you, but I'm worn out after the meeting last night. I was thinking more in terms of next Friday night. That way, you'd have about seven weeks to heal, and also to store your cum for the New Year's Eve party. The Sisterhood requires that a man not be allowed to orgasm for six weeks, so that would fit that time frame." I readily agreed that we needed to have another session before I would be forced to abstain from any torturing for a period that long, and immediately began to fantasize about all the wonderful equipment waiting for us in Gloria's basement.

The next five days passed as slowly as always when I'm anticipating another session. The last one in the basement had been enjoyable for both my wife and I, but it hadn't done anything to ease the insatiable need to feel pain that my cock and balls seemed to have.

Friday morning finally came, and then Friday evening. We departed for Gloria's at the usual and accustomed time, both of us anticipating another night of entertainment. We parked in front of Gloria's house and then entered. As I stopped to disrobe, Don offered his services to my wife. As usual, she declined, saying that her husband had taken care of her needs. She had told me that it was rare for her to allow any other man to serve his in this manner, since she knew that I enjoyed so much doing it. She said that she always tried to "hold it" till she got home, receiving a thrill from the knowledge that I would be waiting at the door, eager to receive her gifts.

Instead of proceeding immediately to the basement, as usual, Don asked us to meet Gloria in the living room that was adjacent to the front entry. That had never happened before, and I wondered if some new and unusual torture were going to be inflicted upon my body in that location. However, when Chrissy seemed surprised by the request, I decided that was probably not the case.

When we entered the living room, Gloria came to my wife and they hugged and kissed as always before. Chrissy asked, "Why are we up here, instead of down in the basement?" Gloria looked at me, and replied, "I wanted to say something to Blair that's really important to me to get said, and I knew that if we were in the basement, he'd be fantasizing about the stuff down there, and wouldn't hear a word I said."

Chrissy's face still wore the puzzled expression, and I was convinced that she was as much in the dark as I. Gloria asked that we seat ourselves on the couch, while she sat in a chair across from us, with Don at her feet. As soon as we were settled, she began. "Blair, this isn't easy for me to say, so I'm going to get through it as fast as I can."

"I know that you think that I hate you, based on the things I've said about you, and done to you, in the past. It'd be understandable for you to believe that, but it's never been true. I admit that in the past I was jealous, even extremely jealous of you. Chrissy is very precious to me, and I love her very much, and have from the start. Yet, I always knew that she loved you more than she did me, and that drove me crazy."

"I never missed a chance to put you down when I thought Chrissy was listening. I always tried to convince her that you had nothing but selfish intentions toward her, and that you couldn't bear the thought of sharing her with anyone else. I always did things like that, up until a few days ago when Lyle was in the session with us. I set that up, because I was sure that as soon as you saw that Chrissy wanted to be fucked by another man, you'd be unable to handle it, and all your protestations to the contrary, you'd try to prevent it."

"I was wrong. I was so very, very wrong about you. I looked at your face when you guided his cock into her pussy, and when she was riding it and was obviously getting hotter by the second with feeling it inside her. I saw nothing but love there, and it was the sweetest love I had ever seen."

"I know now that Chrissy is the luckiest woman in the world to have a husband like you. I say again, I was wrong to have ever doubted you. For every time I spoke against you, for every time I plotted against you, I apologize. I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry."

We were simply too dumbfounded to speak for several seconds. Then Chrissy rushed to Gloria and pulled her into her arms. Both women were crying and kissing and hugging with every fiber of their beings. They said over and over "I love you", and when I had regained my composure, I went to them and took both in my widespread arms, saying, "I love both of you, very much."

It took several minutes for this demonstration of our mutual affection to quiet down, and then there was an awkward pause. Gloria broke the tension by smiling at me and saying, "Now let's get you down to the basement, and I'll show you just how much I love you. I've been thinking for a week of some things I want to do to you. You'll be peeling the paint off the walls with your screams in about fifteen minutes." We all thought that sounded like a wonderful idea, and hurried down the stairs to the basement.

We entered the torture chamber that had so many fond memories for Chrissy and me. Here was the table where I was first introduced to the joys of crucifixion, there the pulleys and ropes that had been used to suspend me to expose the maximum of my body to the tender mercies of the cat, there the closet that had been placed over my head to force me to eat and drink the gifts of others, there the very small table that had held me securely while two other men enjoyed my body, and there the place where I had discovered it was possible for me to watch my wife enjoying the cock of another man, and then to enjoy the attentions he and I paid to one another. Could this place hold any more delights for me, delights that would enter my list of wonderful memories. I hoped that Chrissy and Gloria would soon show me.

The two women began to kiss and undress each other as soon as they entered the door to the torture chamber. This time their kisses were of passion, rather than tenderness and friendship as they had been upstairs a few minutes before. As always, they slowly undressed each other to the accompaniment of caresses and sighs of delight at what they were feeling. As I watched, I could tell that a new dimension had entered their always-loving relationship, and knew they were now deeper in love than ever before.

As they finished removing each other's clothes, the women began hugging themselves, saying, "My God, it's colder than Hell down here", and, "Winter's coming. We'd better build a fire, don't you think?" They then took me to a part of the basement that hadn't before been used for my "entertainment".

In the far corner where they took me, the floor was uncarpeted, as in the location of the closet. The floor in that place had been left bare in order to keep the carpet from becoming saturated with piss and shit; here it had been done so to reduce the hazard of fire.

Standing in the middle of the open area was a small forge, firmly anchored to the floor. On a nearby wall was an assortment of metal tools, all having long handles with wooden grips on their ends. There was a table with the usual ropes and straps that could be used to secure the victim, and mounted to the ceiling were several pulleys, with ropes threaded through them and running to wall-mounted winches. As I looked at all the tools and equipment there, my cock began to twitch, and I was afraid it would betray me by becoming erect before my wife ordered it to do so.

Gloria and Chrissy made a great show of starting the flow of gas into the forge, and lighting a fire. After they had adjusted the flame to the proper level to allow it to heat the charcoal bricks within, they said, "That should make it more comfortable in here, don't you agree?" I could only nod my head, wondering if I soon would think the heat had risen beyond my ability to bear it.

Chrissy then indicated that I should climb onto the table, and after I had done so, the two women secured my wrists and ankles in the familiar spreadeagle position. I remembered the illustration in the book that Joanna had shown us, showing a man's erection being shortened in one-inch pieces, with the wound being cauterized by a red-hot iron after each stroke of the sword. Then I remembered Marissa telling Chrissy of her favorite illustration, showing a man tied spreadeagle to a table, with his cock and balls then nailed to the tabletop, and the nails heated with red-hot irons. I knew that neither of these tortures would be inflicted today, since I had to be kept in shape for the New Year's Eve session, but a guy can hope, can't he?

Instead of then placing some of the tools in the forge to become red hot, as I anticipated, both of the women climbed onto the large tabletop with me.

My wife looked at me, saying, "Honey, Gloria and I want to show just how much we love you before we start torturing you. I want you to get a hard-on now."

I immediately felt the familiar stirring in my crotch, and when I glanced at my penis, saw that it was beginning to fill and rise. As always, it was at full staff in less than a minute. To my surprise, Gloria bent over my erection and took it in her mouth. She had never before showed any sort of affection or desire toward me, and I was momentarily in shock as she sucked and licked my cock. She then removed her mouth from my organ, straddled me, and lowered her very wet pussy onto it.

Chrissy chose that moment to mount my face and order me to lick her pussy, so I could no longer watch her lover riding my manhood, but continued to feel the pleasure of her ministrations. I had never before felt such contractions and pullings when being fucked by a woman. Gloria had such a degree of muscle control in her vagina that she could make me believe that she was pulling my cock with her hand whenever she lifted her body upwards. She could hold just the head in her pussy, and then massage it.

I could tell that the lovers were locked in an embrace and kiss as one rode my tongue and another my cock, but could not watch as I so much wanted to do. Soon I could feel Gloria lift off my engorged member, and then Chrissy lifted off my face. The switched positions, and then again resumed their attentions to one another. Soon I began to hear their moans of pleasure that told me they were nearing orgasm, and I hoped with all my heart that I would soon hear Chrissy order me to join them, but that order didn't come. As their cunts spasmed, my wife's on my cock and her lover's on my tongue, I was left in limbo.

They relaxed in each other's arms, still atop me, for a few minutes. Both women then lifted off me, and stood beside me on the table. Chrissy looked at my aching cock, bobbing back and forth and dripping with its need to experience an orgasm of its own, then said, "I'm sorry, sweetie. We don't want you cumming just yet. Gloria and I have a present for you, and you'll need to be fully erect to enjoy it to the full extent.

Gloria then walked to the rack of tools hanging near the forge and selected one. She returned to the table while holding it behind her back. When she held it out for me to see, both women cried in unison, "Surprise!"

I was looking at what appeared to be a heart-shaped object, probably 1 1/2" in size, that had been attached to the tool. There was an arrow penetrating the heart, and two letters inside it. Although the letters were printed in mirror-image, I could see that one was a "C" and the other was a "G". The thing looked for all the world like a heart that lovers would carve into a tree. I couldn't decide what the purpose of such a thing could possibly be, until Gloria placed the end of the tool in the forge. I knew then that I was to be branded, and would forever carry the symbol of their love. I had no idea where the brand would be, but was sure that it would be painful.

As the iron heated, the women passed the time by showing me the other tools on the rack, and describing the parts of the male anatomy that could receive their kind attentions. They told me how sorry they were that they couldn't demonstrate each and every one right then, because of the need to keep me alive for the upcoming party at the end of the year.

Gloria checked the heating iron and declared it ready for use. She said that Chrissy should do the honors, since she'd been the first to use my little wee-wee, and therefore had first rights to it. My wife agreed, and then walked to the forge and pulled out the branding iron. As she returned to the table, she joked about how they were afraid the brand would be much too large for the intended location, but guessed they would just have to make do.

Gloria gripped the shaft of my cock, holding it still. Chrissy then stepped up beside me, and as she held the iron inches from my flesh, I knew where the brand would be placed, and didn't believe that I would be able to bear it without losing consciousness. Chrissy said, "Sweetie, I want you to strain just as hard as you can to try to make the head bigger. It's so tiny that the heart might not all fit on it. Please try, okay?"

I was terrified by what they intended, and couldn't believe they were going to put the brand there. Surely that would cause such pain and agony, as well as injury to my penis, that my appearance at the year-end party wouldn't be possible, and they were just playing with me. At the same time I felt such terror, my arousal at the anticipation of such a level of pain was causing my heart to pound and my breathing to almost stop.

I strained as hard as I could to expand the head of my cock, being encouraged on by the exhortations of the women. Suddenly, Chrissy pressed the iron against the top of my cock head, and then immediately withdrew it. The pain was tremendous, but certainly not as great as what I had felt from the cigarettes, or even the nails that had been heated with the cigarette lighter. I knew that if my wife had held the branding iron in place for even a few seconds, the flesh would have been destroyed. As it was, the brand was clearly visible, but it hadn't penetrated deeply into the flesh.

Gloria quickly withdrew her hand from my shaft and took a small tube of ointment off the floor beneath the table. She opened the tube, then began to spread the stuff across the brand. Chrissy replaced the iron in the forge, and then turned off the flow of gas so the fire would go out. I felt an immediate cooling sensation in the head of my cock, and then the entire area became numb.

Chrissy said reassuringly, "We talked to Joanna about what we wanted to do to you tonight, and she said that if the iron remained in contact with your flesh for a second or less, then you'd be okay. The ointment has an anaesthetic in it, and you're probably noticing some numbness from it already." I said that was the case, then asked if that was all that would be done to me. I had an urgent need to cum, after being ridden by these two beautiful women, and then branded by them to show their love for me.

They both laughed and assured me that I wasn't getting off that easy and they had another "little something" planned for this evening. I was hoping that whatever it was, it would give me enough pain that Chrissy would judge me worthy of an orgasm.

The women untied me from the table and helped me to a sitting position. Gloria said, "We have a problem with what we can do tonight, as you know. We'd both love to simply destroy your worthless little things, but Joanna has forbidden it. She did say that we could do about anything we want to other parts of your body, but that we have to be careful to keep your cock and balls in shape for the January party."

"I do have a new toy that you'll probably just love. Why don't we go have a look at it now?" She then turned and walked away, and Chrissy helped me down from the table before she followed.

I was taken to the the suspension station again, the place where I had already been tortured in previous sessions. I was instructed to lie flat on the floor and raise my feet in the air, and wasn't surprised when each woman took a rope from the widespread pulleys and tied it around my ankle. They then used the winches to lift me into the air, and stopped only when my feet reached the pulleys, which meant that they were six feet apart. Again, the feeling was of being close to splitting.

Given the height of the ceiling in the basement, my head was farther from the floor than ever before, and my crotch was almost as high as the heads of my torturers. Chrissy said that this would give them greater access to their intended targets, and also make them easier to find, given their small size. They were quite amused by their little joke, and Gloria was laughing as she walked to the wall cabinet to get the instrument of torture they had selected for this next part of the session.

While Gloria was bringing the "toy" from the cabinet, Chrissy was getting a small table. Both arrived by my side, and Gloria sat the thing on the table and began making adjustments to it. They were intentionally blocking my view by placing themselves between me and the table, and my anticipation was reaching a fever pitch. Finally they pronounced the thing ready for me, and stepped away so that I could look at it.

I had trouble recognizing whatever it was that was setting on the table, mainly because I was hanging in an upside-down position, but also because I'd never seen it before this time. It seemed to be a metal cube about one foot on each side, and with some sort of gauges set in one of the faces. There was a length of cable running from the box to a metal cylinder that was about one inch in diameter and six inches long. Another length of cable ran from the box to a large alligator clip. A third cable exited the rear of the box, and as I followed its path I could see that it was plugged into an electrical outlet in the wall of the basement.

Chrissy said to me, "Honey, you'll just love this toy. We've been experimenting with it on some of the customers, and they all think it's the best thing ever. Several of them were even able to walk out of here by themselves after we used it on them, so you'll probably be okay too." She and Gloria then laughed at the look of concern that crossed my face.

Gloria picked up the metal cylinder and walked up beside me, saying, "I'm betting that you'll just love this part. I remember how turned on you were when Erik and Robbie were screwing you in the ass. Of course, this isn't nearly as big as they are, but you'll love it anyway."

She then spread her legs and pushed the thing deep inside her pussy, then withdrew it and walked around to my back. I immediately knew what would be done with the cylinder, and wasn't surprised when I would feel her trying to insert it in my ass. Thanks to the lubrication she provided from her cunt, the device slipped easily into my rectum, and was inserted to the point that my sphincter closed around the cable, holding the cylinder firmly in place.

Chrissy was holding the alligator clip as she walked toward me. I could see that the thing had some sort of black plastic coating on all the parts except just the jaws, which had wicked-looking sharp teeth. She held the clip out toward my crotch, then asked Gloria, "Most of his stuff is way too small for this big clip, so maybe I'll just start with his right nut." She then spread the jaws of the clip and placed it over my ball. Given the large size of the thing, it easily covered the entire teste, and when she released the spring clip, the teeth sank into my sac and gripped the nut.

Chrissy and Gloria then returned to the table beside me, and started discussing "just how much to give him at first". They finally decided to start small, since my equipment was so little that it'd probably be completely cooked at a higher setting.

Chrissy flipped a switch on the front panel, and I immediately felt an itching sensation throughout my entire abdomen, but seeming to be centered in my right ball. She then adjusted a dial slightly, and the itching turned to tingling. They both looked at my crotch and started laughing, saying, "Look at that thing jump. Must be something alive in there."

I couldn't see what they were talking about, since my scrotum was mostly hidden by my cock. Gloria said she'd show me what was so funny, and then went to the cabinet, bringing back a small mirror. She held it above my crotch, then moved it around until I could see the alligator clip that was fastened to my sac, and the cable that disappeared into my ass.

My balls were indeed alive, and appeared to be writhing inside their membrane, looking for all the world as if they were trying to escape their prison. Chrissy said, "Now watch this, lover. Tell me if you can feel it."

She moved the dial to a higher setting, and I immediately felt lightning shooting through my body, centered in my testicles. The mirror showed me that my balls were now jumping like Mexican jumping beans trying to free themselves of their cage. My body began to hump the air as it made mad efforts to expel the cylinder from my ass, and dislodge the alligator clamp from my sac. The women laughed at my frantic dance, and said that I seemed to like it even better than Lyle had.

Chrissy then turned the dial back to its lowest setting, saying, "Now let's see what happens when we move the clip to something with more nerve endings."

As soon as the electric current decreased, my body ceased its St. Vitus dance, and the pain I had been feeling was reduced to a dull ache in my crotch. Chrissy opened the jaws of the alligator clip, then pinched that most sensitive flesh on the bottom of my cock head, the frenum. She lifted the part that was gripped in her fingers, then placed the clip around it.

As soon as the clip was securely attached, she began to move the dial to a higher setting. The itching sensation was quickly replaced by a stinging, burning ache in the entire length of my cock, but centered in the head. Gloria put the mirror on the table, saying that I wouldn't need it to see what was going to happen next.

Chrissy moved the dial higher, and my reward was a return of the sensation of lightning, only this time it was striking my tortured penis. The thing begin to jump wildly, almost as if it were the tail of a happy dog, but much faster that any wagging I'd ever seen. Suddenly I knew that my need to cum was the most powerful ever, and I began to whimper with the effort it took to control the urge.

Gloria knelt at my head and lifted it slighty so that I could better see my "dancing dick", as she called it. I knew that my ability to prevent my orgasm was almost exhausted, and tried desperately to think of anything else other than the feeling in my crotch that meant my jism would soon be boiling from its home in my balls, and exploding from the head of my cock.

Chrissy must have known that I was in extreme distress at that point. Her hand reached for my penis, moving as if in slow motion, and I saw that she had put on a rubber glove. My brain was simply too addled by then to understand that she had done so in order to insulate her hand from the electrical current I was feeling.

She wrapped the fingers of her gloved hand around the shaft of my wildly jerking cock, and held it in a straight-down position. At that moment, Gloria ordered, "Open your cum-eating mouth, faggot! Don't you miss a single drop of your snack!"

I opened my mouth as wide as possible, hoping that my compliance would cause Chrissy to say those words I so desperately needed to hear. There is no way to describe the feeling that swept over me as she said, "Cum now, lover. Make your last one the best ever."

As if a dam had burst inside me, the semen began to spurt from the hole in the head of my cock. The first gobbet landed on my chin, and Chrissy adjusted her "aim". The remaining cum splashed into my waiting mouth, and seemed to have no end.

I simply have no rational memory of what I did when I was experiencing this most intense of orgasms. I have viewed the tape of that session, and know that my throat was producing sounds, but they have no human quality. I can only describe what I was doing as "howling". I've never heard the sound of wolves in the wild, but feel sure that they would have responded to the sounds I was making.

I have no idea how long my spurts continued, or if I did indeed swallow what had found its way into my mouth. My next clear memory is of lying on my back on the floor, so I have to assume that the current was switched off, the cylinder was extracted from my ass, the alligator clip was removed from my penis, and that I was lowered to the floor and untied.

Chrissy and Gloria were lying on each side of me, hugging and kissing me and each other. They had been talking to me for some time, I assume, but the first words I was able to recognize were asking me if I had found the experience at all enjoyable.

There were no words then, and none now, to describe the intensity of the orgasm that I had just experienced. Judging by the deep-down aching in my crotch and abdomen, I knew that my muscles had propelled the semen with more force and speed than ever before in my life. My penis, when I managed to raise my head enough to look at it, was the smallest it had been since I was a child. It looked truly "killed", and from the pain I was feeling everywhere down there, I was sure it had been.

Yet for all the pain and aching, I knew that never before had I had such an orgasm. I had been to the pinnacle of sexual experience, and wished that it were possible to remain there, even though it would surely kill me in short order. As I kissed and hugged the two women I loved so much, I tried to tell them what I was feeling, and had felt, but words simply failed me. I knew that my wife would be able to "read my mind" as always, and know where my brain and body had recently been. I hoped that Gloria could know that what she had done to me was beyond good, beyond pleasurable, and beyond ecstasy. It was simply the best cum I'd ever had.

One more remarkable thing happened that night. After the session had ended and I had dressed, Chrissy went home with me rather than staying overnight with her lover as had always before been her custom. We arrived home, prepared for bed, and then spent the next hour hugging and kissing while recounting the experiences of the night, and then starting from that fateful night almost a year ago when she had asked, "Did you know that men are sometimes sexually crucified?"

It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had said those words to me, and I had felt such a rush of arousal and pure lust. I remembered my eagerness to be nailed to the post in Gloria's basement then, and during every session that came after that. As we reviewed our memories, we realized more and more that the road we had traveled in the past ten or eleven months was simply the best part of our lives. The passions aroused by those experiences, the friends and lovers gained, and indeed the very intense excitement we felt when reviewing the year made our lives and our love so very much more special.

As we slipped into dreamless sleep, my last thought was of knowing that in just a few short weeks, the sisters of La Crucifems would vote to choose the man who was to be crucified at the New Year's Eve meeting. I knew that whatever my fate was after being tied to the cross, it could add very little to my joy of living at this time, or to the overwhelming love I felt for this very special creature who the Creator had given me for my lifelong companion.

To be continued . . .