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Message-ID: <34272asstr$1009228205@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Keywords: hanging, breath control, TV, hand job, mild
From: anon3a9c@nyx10.nyx.net (Damien)
Cache-Post-Path: irys.nyx.net!anon3a9c@nyx10.nyx.net
NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 24 Dec 2001 00:19:57 MST
Subject: {ASSM} ASA Story: Second Time (F/M, hanging, TV) (REPOST)
Date: Mon, 24 Dec 2001 16:10:05 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

This story was written by Ol' Sarge.  I (Damien) am posting it
by permission of the author.

Listen up!  Yes, I mean you!

There's a few things you gotta read before you go on to the story. 

First, there's sexually explicit stuff here.  If you're not old enough to
vote, go on to the next message.  Better yet, unsubscribe to this
discussion group.  Gwan, kid, shoo! And that goes double if sexually
explicit stories are illegal where you are!

Second, this is a work of <u>fiction</u>!  No actual people or animals were
harmed in the writing of this story.

Third, don't try this stuff at home.  You could end up dead!  Over 200
people a year die playing with asphyxia in the USA.  That's not counting
the rest of the world.

Remember, I didn't *make* you read this story.  If you think it's badly
written, that's one thing.  But if you don't like stories about people
getting strangled while having sex, don't blame anybody but yourself.

Here's some blank space to give you a chance to skip to the next message.
After that, you're on your own.
























Summary: This story includes descriptions of a man hanged for sexual
pleasure.  Non-lethal, consensual.

Copyright ( c ) 1993 by Hope/Sarge,  This file may be redistributed
electronicly only if the following two conditions are met:
    (1) This copyright is retained with the file and
    (2) that you make no further restrictions on resdistribution.

			    SECOND TIME
			   by Ol' Sarge
			 anon5ab7@nyx.net

    My second hanging was with a professional Doma,  after some negotations
of details and cost etc, and the transfer of mucho dinero from my pocket to
her safe.  She helped me to get dressed in my (then current) dress.  It
was one of those rayon brocade Chinese dresses (doesn't quite feel like
silk, but close enough).  Black with Silver(ish) figures on it, I had
used my mothers sewing machine to take the waist in so that it fit
snugly over my 3 waist cinchers (I still hadn't discovered Versatile
Fashions, and had lost the address(es) for Caprice et al).  My wig was
longish and black.  Nylons (not panty hose), and medium heels (2 1/2 "
was the highest that I had found at that time in my size).

   After I was dressed she tied my hands behind my back and then took me
from the dressing room to the 'dungeon'.  There she sat me on a small
bench with a flat steel bar welded to the leg at one end.  I was sitting
straddling the bench, with my back against the bar, my arms were on the
otherside of the bar from my body.  The bar had a curved plate about 5
or 6 inches wide crosswise to it, the ends curved towards me, coming up
under my arms.  The top of the bar had a fitting and a strap and buckle.
She buckled the strap around my neck, keeping my wig out of the strap.
Then she strapped my ankles on to each side of the bench, attached to
the top rail.  Then looped a rope over my wrist bindings and pulled it
down towards a cleat at the bottom of the bar.  A seatbelt further secured
me to the bench.  She invited me to struggle and confirm that I was indeed
helpless, which I was.

   She then said 'Now I'm going to make your face up, so that you
look like the slut that you are, and to convinve you that you must
cooperate I'm going to demonstrate a feature of the neck strap".  She
reached behind my neck and turned what I had thought was the clamping
wheel.  The belt around my neck grew tighter very quickly.  She said,
"As you can see it would take no effort to choke you to the point of
unconsiousness".

    "Yes", I gurgled, "I won't struggle".

   She procedded to do a somewhat elaborate make-up job on me, (some
thing that hadn't been in the negoations, but that was welcome
anyway).  Then she took some more rope and tied my elbows together, and
then placed a ball-gag harness on my head.  Releasing me from the
bench, she manhandled me over to the hoist frame, and then tied my
ankles together.  She disappeared for a few moments and then returned
with a noose,  she lowered the hoist and, after some fumbling, removed
the spreader bar that was attached to the cable and attached the
noose.  She placed the noose around my neck, and pulled it tight, she
didn't seem to careful which way she placed the knot or where it ended
up (as we shall see).  The knot was beside my head, over my left ear.
She took some more rope and tied my knees together, over the dress.
Looking in the mirror I saw a bound and gagged slut (she really did a
good job with the makeup) with a noose around her heck.

   Needless to say I was totally turned on my these whole proceedings.
She stepped over to the hoist, and engaged the pawl (every movment of
the handle produced a click as the pawl dropped into place, stopping the
any backwards motion of the handle.  click click click click click
click click click click click click soon the hoist line was tight, and
the noose began to tighten around my neck, the WRONG way, the knot was
trying to go forwards around my neck towards the front.  I tried to say
'Stop', but nothing understandable came out through the gag (mumphh).
I began to struggle, shaking my head and carrying on.  She said, "Silly
slut, I don't care what you do, you're going to hang".  She continued to
crank the handle.  The knot was just behind my jaw, and couldn't slip
any further.  The rope began to be pulled across my neck, tighter and
tighter.  Soon my muffled shouts became gurgles and snoring noises. I
was on my tiptoes, taking little tiny steps trying to get my feet
directly under me, and then nothing was under my feet at ALL!!.  I was
hanging.  My legs kicked, and suddenly I dropped about 2 inches as the
noose wipped tighter around my neck, OUCH.  She knew that this was not
right and release the pawl and lowered me to my feet.  She removed the
 noose and flipped it over so that the pulling side was to the back.
Then she went back to to hoist, click click click.  I didn't want to do
this anymore, my neck and throat hurt from the drop (I had heard
something go crack in my neck when I dropped, and I really through that
I was going to die, just a joint cracking, like knuckles).  She kept
cranking though, and soon there I was up on my tiptoes just a bit, then
she paused.

   "You know, those shoes don't look slutty enough".  She walked out of
the room, and returned a minute later with another pair, 5 or 6 inch
heels, ankle straps, the whole bit,  She untied my ankles and knees and
lifted up one foot to remove my pump, I struggled to maintain my balance
as the noose jerked and tightened.  She placed the shoe on one foot, and
buckled the ankle strap, then did the same with the other.  Suddenly I
was standing on the ground again, it's amazing what 5 or 6 inches of
heel can do.  She attached a leather cuff to each ankle and and then
pulling on the chains attached to each cuff worked my feet further, and
further apart, stopping only when I was back up on tiptoe again.  Now
the slut in the mirror was spread with chains to her ankles, the noose
was behind my ear, and every time I began to loose my balance it jerked
tighter.

   "Bye bye, slut", she sneered as she took hold of the crank again.
click ... click ... click . click click clickclick clickity-click she
cranked, the noose quickly grew tighter, my feet stepped, stepped and
then waved in the air, up, up, 2, 3, 6 inches, a foot, then clunk I was
hanging as she stepped away from the crank.  It was awful and wonderful
I struggled futily against the ropes and chains that bound me, I gasped
and gurgled and then grew quiet, still struggling.  She reached up under
my skirt, and pulled down my panties.  My prick popped up, purple and
ready, she jerked me off expertly, and in only about 3 strokes I came,
shooting about a mile I guess.  She dropped my skirt, and stepped back.

  "Now I get my fun, asshole,  I'm going to watch you hang".  She
stepped back, and folded her arms.  I tried to beg, to plead, to do
anything.  All that I could do is wiggle and writhe.  I watched my purple
slut's face until everything tunneled in and went black.

   I came to lying on the ground, still bound, but with the ankle cuffs
removed.  She rolled me over on my front and began removing the elbow
ropes.

   "You're going to have a bit of a rope burn where the noose slipped".

   I had figured as much.  She finished untying my elbows and asked, "Did
you like that last little bit?".  I nodded and said , "mumph, mumm mumm"
the gag was still on.  She unbuckled it and pulled it out.  "Yes, it
made me feel totally lost and helpless, and that you were really just
going to let me hang".

   After I removed my makeup and changed back into regular clothing we
looked at my neck,  I had a rope burn across the right side and front.

   "Well how are you going to explain that?", she asked.
 
   "Simple", I replied.  "I'll just say that I went soaring this weekend
and a tow rope broke while we were positioning gliders on the ground,
it happens every once in a while anyway.  If anyone asks, and I'm sure
that they will, I just say 'Well a towrope popped and snapped across my
neck'".


 ===========================================================

Did you like this story?  You can find more at
	http://www.nyx.net/~anon3a9c/fair/entry.ssi

The author would also like to hear about it.  You can write me and
I'll pass it on to the author.  Remember, feedback from the readers
is the only "payment" the author gets.
-- 
A. P. Damien
Replies directly to this address will NOT be anonymized.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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