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Message-ID: <35835asstr$1016831402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Keywords: hanging, strangulation, breath control, snuff
From: anon3a9c@nyx10.nyx.net (Damien)
Cache-Post-Path: irys.nyx.net!anon3a9c@nyx10.nyx.net
Subject: {ASSM} ASA story: Curtain (F solo, hanging, snuff, no sex, NC?)
Date: Fri, 22 Mar 2002 16:10:02 -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 Darlene.  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 story includes a description of somebody getting killed for
sexual pleasure - maybe the killer's pleasure, maybe the victim's.  
Either
way, this isn't milk and cookies.  If you don't want to read about such
things, go away and read another message.

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

Fourth, 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 to death 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: On stage, a woman standing on a box.  A timer.  A noose
around her neck.
F solo, hanging, snuff, NC?

				    Curtain
				  by Darlene


Copyright by the author. Feel free to download this story, but do not
charge for its use.

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



The curtain rises. The stage lights come up slowly. An auburn haired 
young woman is standing on a box. She has very long legs. The woman is 
wearing a rose colored jersey. A brown leather belt is cinched at her 
waist. Her left arm is tied at the wrist to the belt. Her right arm is 
loose at her side. She's naked below the belt. 

A rope stretches down from the rafters. It ends with a noose secured 
around the young woman's neck. Her green eyes peer nervously from the 
stage. Tiny drops sparkle through the red hairs at the vee of her legs, 
betraying her arousal. 

The cover drops from a large device standing nearby. The woman can see 
it clearly. The device has the face of a clock. It's a timer. A full 
sweep of its pointer will take sixty seconds. The young woman's hands 
ball into fists. Her knuckles are even lighter than the rest of her 
freckled white skin.

The timer clicks on. The pointer moves. A sudden stream of urine runs 
past the woman's legs. As it hits the box, it makes a quick drumming 
sound like rain in a gutter pipe. The sound stops as abruptly as it 
started.

A bell rings from the timer. The woman closes her eyes. The box 
collapses under her feet. She drops a few inches and grunts as the rope 
jerks her neck. She hangs suspended. Her eyes pop open, very wide. 

One leg reaches out delicately for support, finding none there. The 
other leg, toes curled, repeats the motion. She squawks softly, 
catching little breaths. She doesn't thrash. Has someone coached her 
how to prolong her time on the rope?

Her free hand comes up to the noose digging into her throat. She 
touches the rope, almost in wonder. Her eyes blink several times. Soon 
she makes little gagging noises. Her hand waves. It's harder for her to 
find air.

Her eyes are still wide, framed by her straight auburn locks. The long 
legs become more active, slowly pumping an invisible bicycle. The slit 
between the legs glistens in the light, moistening the surrounding 
hairs. Her pumping continues a while, its rhythm interrupted only by 
her gagging.

Her face begins to redden more. Her fingers clench. The dribbles of air 
aren't enough. Her chest begins heaving. Her legs kick fiercely now. 
She swings on the rope. She's fighting hard. The kicking goes on.

All in an instant her struggling stops. Her body trembles a moment then 
relaxes. Her feet paw very slowly. Her head is immobile, but her eyes 
look right then left. Her fingers return to the rope at her neck and 
come to rest . A small spot of drool drips from the corner of her mouth 
onto her jersey. 

Her chest heaves again, then once more. Her hand falls. She's quiet for 
a long time. Only the movement of her eyes shows she is still there. As 
the eyes become glassy a final set of throes makes her body shake. The 
curtain descends.

There is the sound of polite applause.



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


Did you like this story?  Why not
<A HREF="mailto:Darlene29x@hotmail.com?subject=Ambivalent">
write Darlene</A>?  Remember, feedback from the readers is the
only "payment" the author gets.

You can find more at
	http://www.nyx.net/~anon3a9c/fair/entry.ssi


But if you think stories about people getting strangled during sex -- 
and
enjoying it -- are icky and shouldn't exist, don't come whining to me.
Why did you read it if you don't like stories of that type?
-- 
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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