[theghost525]

wow thats painful,shit

[~WicKeD~]

Why Kill when you can Slowly, Painfully, and Happily Torture to Death?? I understand why they did and I understand even more why I was born FOLLOWING the use of such practices of Torture in America. I wonder what forms of Torture existed in Africa other than tossing the accused to Nile Crocs, Lions, or any of the other Terrible creatures of the MotherLand... All the same Great Post

[holierthanthou]

this is like S&M heaven

[Ms Moody]

[Dr Thrumpkinz]

No female's list should be complete without the Spanish Donkey.
I've read that it was quite popular with the ladies.

[Dr Thrumpkinz]

Originally Posted by Wiggly ↗

And what exactly would that consist of?

Chainsaw peeling.

[Dr Thrumpkinz]

Personally I think I would hate Scaphism most. I hate being itchy, and detest anything rotten, so rotting, while being itchied to death, sounds particularly like bullshit to me.

The Persians out vie all other barbarians in the horrid cruelty of their punishments, employing tortures that are peculiarly terrible and long-drawn, namely the 'boats' and sewing men up in raw hides. But what is meant by the 'boats,' I must now explain for the benefit of less well informed readers. Two boats are joined together one on top of the other, with holes cut in them in such a way that the victim's head, hands, and feet only are left outside. Within these boats the man to be punished is placed lying on his back, and the boats then nailed together with bolts. Next they pour a mixture of milk and honey into the wretched man's mouth, till he is filled to the point of nausea, smearing his face, feet, and arms with the same mixture, and so leave him exposed to the sun. This is repeated every day, the effect being that flies, wasps, and bees, attracted by the sweetness, settle on his face and all such parts of him as project outside the boats, and miserably torment and sting the wretched man. Moreover his belly, distended as it is with milk and honey, throws off liquid excrements, and these putrefying breed swarms of worms, intestinal and of all sorts. Thus the victim lying in the boats, his flesh rotting away in his own filth and devoured by worms, dies a lingering and horrible death.

— Zonaras, Annals

Police once strapped me to a chair, so that I couldn't move. It had many straps and several very cleverly placed foam wedges which used a sort of lever force, with the straps, against your body to keep it absolutely in place. It was welded to this thick metal plate, and took two cops to drag it to their special spot they chose for me, under a heating duct before I was put in it, naked except for a very stinky hockey helmet they put on my head and jarred between two foam blocks built into the back rest, before it too was strapped in. It felt like I was part of, or suction cupped to, the ground--the most any parts of me could move was my jaw, my fingers and my feet (side to side).
It was like -10° outside too, so the heat was like an effing jet. If I kept my eyes open they would dry out so that I couldn't close them until sweat made it into one at a time to burn it wet enough again to be able close. There's a very good reason they are administering eye drops to Alex DeLarge in that theatre, and this is exactly it.
I tried to laugh, but I lost all sense of humour after probably only about an hour of this. If you know anything of me, it's that I like to laugh--I do it at almost all times, I wake up, and I fall asleep laughing, and I could have probably even cracked a couple jokes while waiting for an ambulance when my Dad died in my driveway. But in this chair, streaming droplets of sweat that felt like burning extract of every feather in the world, while being viewed by two shifts worth of the ugly beady eyes of grinning police through a giant scuffed up pane of laminated glass, until morning...well that shit was as if all of Earth had just suddenly choked on the very last funny thing that would ever happen.
Oh well though! Even Police deserve happiness sometimes, and what's one of my awesome as fuck nights out of so many? Fleeting really.

— Dr Thrumpkinz III, Life

Oh yes, also starving in a trunk, like this Mongolian lady in 1913. No good!

[soja]

Originally Posted by Dr Thrumpkinz ↗

Oh yes, also starving in a trunk, like this Mongolian lady in 1913. No good!

reminds me of a comic I know and love.

[Dr Thrumpkinz]

Originally Posted by sojalemmi ↗

reminds me of a comic I know and love.

What is it though? So few colours, but it looks nice for sure.

[soja]

Originally Posted by Dr Thrumpkinz ↗

What is it though? So few colours, but it looks nice for sure.

I am not sure, heh. my comic book collection is in disarray at the moment so i was not able to find my copy to look at and tell you the title. but the story about the guy being tortured to death in that box while merchants sell wares around him is a one shot story, i believe, and I read it in a "resurrected" anthology type thing that looks like:

the whole collection is pretty good, but i especially enjoyed that one story about the guy being tortured to death in the little cage. and it just so happens the artist and/or writer of that story has some kind of relationship with the sandman comics from vertigo. the image i posted originally in this thread is special artwork from a sandman death collection that features death with some of the characters from that other story and it made me fall in love with both of those separate comic books even more.

death is probably one of my all time favorite comic book characters.