Young naked woman cross frame tied

She was young, reasonably innocent; perhaps naive would be a better word. She was inquisitive, that's for sure, so accepted an invitation to be 'introduced to the cross', to learn more about . . . . what? Crucifixion, BDSM? She was willing, as few would be in the circumstances, relaxed, on vacation in a foreign land, ready to learn the customs and traditions. She was asked to pose leaning back against the big X-cross in the middle of the market square, perhaps becoming the centre of attention. She was a little vain; so the idea appealed. No bother to remove t-shirt. She'd gone topless on the beach many times, casting off bikini top and wearing only tiny panties. Wearing no bra today, she often didn't, not being a big-breasted girl, but she had shorts on. Many were the tourists and locals who came to look and take snaps of her; no worries. It was when two older women in shawls approached, insisting those shorts be removed. What the hell? Her thong was small, but clean. One of them unfastened her pants and slipped them down. No, no, insisted the women, she must lose her panties as well. They were very insistent. She was taken aback. Naked, here in the middle of town? Yes, yes, they persisted. She didn't object as the second woman removed her thong, quickly, decisively. Proud of her body, she kept pubes clean, shaved regularly, removing all trace of any natural pussy bush. Now standing totally naked, she realised there's nothing more naked than a woman with a shaved pubic bone. Her slit fused high on the mons, a feature which pleased her; boyfriends always admired it. Still no objection when the women produced ropes and proceeded to tie wrists to the big frame, holding arms up high, deliberately exposing breasts. No worries, just a little uncomfortable; the growing crown in front seemed to like it. When her left ankle was lifted and tied, concerns began to emerge. Realism imposed itself on vanity and naivete. An icy chill of fear swept over her, sweat rapidly turned cold, when the right ankle was similarly tied. Legs on the X-cross were splayed, thus were hers held open so that her sexe was on view. She'd never been naked in public before yet now was exhibiting her most intimate self. After a short pause for thought, she decided it was fine. . . . . . . 'Let them all look; I'm pretty' she mused. She was indeed attractive, so much so that another young woman, wandering around the crowded square without a shirt that hot morning, happy to show off her own magnificent breasts, paused to look at the pair, both fascinated and appalled at what was taking place in public. She pondered; should she try to follow on? Perhaps not . . . She felt the frame move slightly, noise and conversation at rear. One of the women spoke . . . . . . . "Yes dear, we're arranging the same with another young woman on the other side; you'll have company." . . . . . . The whole assembly moved as the other female was fastened to the frame. Then she felt the jolts, heard the smacks, the cries, as that woman was whipped mercilessly. She recognised the voice of her friend . . . Knees had been bent when the trying took place. She tried to straighten them, to breathe more easily, lifting her body and easing the strain on arms, back, chest and belly. It hurt; it hurt a lot. Then there were the pegs under her heels; they hurt too, quite painful in fact. At this point panic set in. Losing control, she pissed herself, disgusted at the base reaction. She'd slipped down, so heaved herself up again, using both arms and legs to do so. It hurt more, lots more . . . The crowd was larger now, forming a semi-circle before her, so she was effectively hidden from all else on the market square. At last her simplicity was banished. She realised that this mass of people was here for one reason, one reason only. To watch her struggle, suffer torment, stretch her lithe body and writhe in pain...