I am blindfolded. You bind my wrists to the bedposts above my head. You bind my ankles similarly to the footboard. My body is spread out wide before you, my most secret parts bared naked to you. You run a finger from my throat down my breastbone, past my navel to my mound. Your finger moves around my sex and you hear a slight intake of breath as my tongue darts across my upper lip. Your finger moves down my slit, barely entering the folds, and I moan. My hips rise to meet your finger, but it is gone. I feel the bed move and then you are straddling me. Your hands cup one of my breasts and you lean forward and begin sucking on it, your hot tongue darting out to tickle my erect nipple. I moan and arch my chest upwards. You bury your face between my breasts and take turns sucking one and then the other, gently nibbling at my flesh as I writhe beneath you.
You run your hands down my sides and along my ribcage to rest on my waist and drive your prick into me. A moan of pleasure escapes me and I rise up on the bed towards you, prevented from meeting you by my outstretched arms. I feel you lean forward and your hands are upon my throat, gently squeezing. My breath begins to wheeze as the pressure of your hands increases. Dazzlings lights race across my vision behind the blindfold and my body pulses beneath you, the rhythm of its movements exciting you further.
With each thrust of your pelvis into mine, you increase your hold on my throat. My body's struggles become more frantic, now in a full-out fight to save itself. Throwing your head back and groaning in pleasure, you ride my bucking form as it squirms and writhes beneath you. The lightshow behind my blindfold increases, colors bursting across my vision. I hear a distant weak whistling noise and realize that the sound comes from my own throat as it struggles frantically for air.
I experience a series of orgasms then, my hips rising off the bed, shuddering with pleasure, driving you deeper inside me. I feel you pound into me several times as you empty yourself into me, your hands so tight around my neck that I'm surprised you haven't decapitated me. My throat gives three short, wheezing grunts, my body shudders, and I fall limp, my body held up off the bed by the pressure of your hands around my throat. I can feel my tongue beginning to push its way out of my mouth and my heart pounding in my eardrums, the pressure in my head unbearable. Blackness takes me as you collapse, spent, on top of me.
My gift to you - my life for your pleasure.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Hangman Part IV
The Hangman stood before her, noose in hand, and she squirmed against the straps that kept her bound to the chair, desperately trying to speak around the rag he'd stuffed into her mouth and which was kept there by duct tape. He dropped the noose over her head and tightened it around her neck. He released the bindings that held her in the chair and forced her to her feet, kicking her legs apart so that she was off-balance. He raised her hands above her head and wrapped duct tape around her wrists, binding them tightly to the rope above the noose, which was strung through a pulley and down to a winch nearby. He touched the winch controls and she was hoisted to her feet, now standing on tiptoes. He took a long leather belt and wrapped it around her ribcage, just under her breasts, looping the free end through a loop. He struck her then, punched her hard in the diaphragm with his right hand, forcing the air from her lungs, and pulled on the belt with his left hand, cinching it tight around her chest.
Panic struck her then, as she realized what was happening to her. She writhed against the bindings and tried to kick him. He grabbed her foot and, bending it behind her, wrapped another belt around her leg, securing her lower leg to her thigh. Struggling to keep her balance on the other leg, her eyes widened in terror. He stood back then to watch her dance and it was then that she saw herself in the mirror, her body standing on one foot, her arms stretched high above her head and bound there, her horror-stricken eyes darting around the room, looking for rescue but seeing nothing but dirt, grime and pain. She dragged a ragged breath in around the gag and grabbed at the rope with her hands, trying desperately to regain her balance.
He touched the winch and she was hoisted two more inches above the floor, then moved forward to strap her other leg as he had bound the left one. She pulled at the rope with her hands and tried to pull herself up, managing to raise herself enough to suck in one ragged breath, although the belt around her chest prevented her from taking a very deep breath. Pain wracked her chest with the efforts and tears streamed down her face. She watched in the mirror as her attacker spread her thighs apart and thrust his cock inside her. Reaching up behind her back, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her down onto him, pumping violently into her, brutally pounding his pelvis against her body, grunting with pleasure with each thrust.
Her windpipe nearly crushed by this downward force, and she saw stars burst across her vision. In the mirror, she saw her face darkening. Her lungs felt as though they might burst and burned as though they were in flames. Her hands grasped at the rope, trying futilely to pull her weight upwards, but it was to no avail. Her body twitched and spasmed uncontrollably, driving her rapist into a frenzy, and he came violently in several powerful thrusts against her bruised pelvis and the force of this did crush her windpipe.
In the mirror, she watched him pull the gag from her mouth and back away from her to collapse into the chair in which she had previously been bound. From this place he watched her revolving slowly on the rope, her body still twitching occasionally as if she were being touched with an electric cattle prod, her lips sputtering as she tried to pull air into her shattered throat. She felt her heart pounding in her eardrums and wondered how long it would continue to beat once she lost consciousness. She forced her eyes open to look at her reflection in the mirror again and watched herself slowly swaying at the end of the rope, the scene surreal, as if she were watching someoen else. She saw her bladder and bowels empty themselves onto the floor, watched her mouth try to open and suck in air unsuccessfully, and her eyes widened as her body gave a sudden flex, her chest heaving and her back arching in a final attemp to fight for survival. She watched herself hang for several more minutes before the blackness overcame her.
Her body was not found for several days when the building's owner returned from vacation. The Hangman's note said simply: "Exquisite."
Panic struck her then, as she realized what was happening to her. She writhed against the bindings and tried to kick him. He grabbed her foot and, bending it behind her, wrapped another belt around her leg, securing her lower leg to her thigh. Struggling to keep her balance on the other leg, her eyes widened in terror. He stood back then to watch her dance and it was then that she saw herself in the mirror, her body standing on one foot, her arms stretched high above her head and bound there, her horror-stricken eyes darting around the room, looking for rescue but seeing nothing but dirt, grime and pain. She dragged a ragged breath in around the gag and grabbed at the rope with her hands, trying desperately to regain her balance.
He touched the winch and she was hoisted two more inches above the floor, then moved forward to strap her other leg as he had bound the left one. She pulled at the rope with her hands and tried to pull herself up, managing to raise herself enough to suck in one ragged breath, although the belt around her chest prevented her from taking a very deep breath. Pain wracked her chest with the efforts and tears streamed down her face. She watched in the mirror as her attacker spread her thighs apart and thrust his cock inside her. Reaching up behind her back, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her down onto him, pumping violently into her, brutally pounding his pelvis against her body, grunting with pleasure with each thrust.
Her windpipe nearly crushed by this downward force, and she saw stars burst across her vision. In the mirror, she saw her face darkening. Her lungs felt as though they might burst and burned as though they were in flames. Her hands grasped at the rope, trying futilely to pull her weight upwards, but it was to no avail. Her body twitched and spasmed uncontrollably, driving her rapist into a frenzy, and he came violently in several powerful thrusts against her bruised pelvis and the force of this did crush her windpipe.
In the mirror, she watched him pull the gag from her mouth and back away from her to collapse into the chair in which she had previously been bound. From this place he watched her revolving slowly on the rope, her body still twitching occasionally as if she were being touched with an electric cattle prod, her lips sputtering as she tried to pull air into her shattered throat. She felt her heart pounding in her eardrums and wondered how long it would continue to beat once she lost consciousness. She forced her eyes open to look at her reflection in the mirror again and watched herself slowly swaying at the end of the rope, the scene surreal, as if she were watching someoen else. She saw her bladder and bowels empty themselves onto the floor, watched her mouth try to open and suck in air unsuccessfully, and her eyes widened as her body gave a sudden flex, her chest heaving and her back arching in a final attemp to fight for survival. She watched herself hang for several more minutes before the blackness overcame her.
Her body was not found for several days when the building's owner returned from vacation. The Hangman's note said simply: "Exquisite."
Hangman - Part III
"Look," said the hunter to his prey. "What do you see?"She looked into the mirror at her reflection and that of the hooded man who stood behind her, holding her face to force her to look into the mirror. She was nude. Her hands were bound behind her back and there was a noose around her neck. A ball gag was in her mouth, a steady stream of spittle dripping from it onto her breasts. Her body quivered in fear and he grinned.
"You see a living dead girl, don't you?" he asked. She shook her head frightfully as he stepped back.
From the mirror, she took in the room around her - the tile floor and walls, the urinals, the sinks and the toilet stalls. The stink of typical bathroom smells was strong, her senses heightened by sheer terror. The man yanked on the rope and she found herself hanging several feet above the floor. She flailed at the end of the rope, panic filling her mind as the realization dawned on her that she was going to die.
Her chest heaved and her body continued to thrash at the end of the rope. She sputtered and moaned from behind the ball gag, her cries echoing off the tile walls. Every so often she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored wall, her body jerking and spasming as it spun in a circle around the room. Her body began to weaken and her legs came up and down several times in a swimming motion before finally hanging still, her feet twitching as her body spun in an ever decreasing circle. She could hear her pulse thundering in her eardrums, slowing as her life slowly began to slip away. Her bladder emptied and she heard it splatter to the floor below.
Her body hung limp now, spinning quietly from the rope, still but for an an occasional muscle spasm. Reflected in the mirror, she saw the man below, gazing up at her, and wondered who he was and why he did this.
Redness clouded her vision and sparks of lightning flashed across her line of sight. She felt the small jerks of her muscles and wondered how long it would take her to die. She felt the man's hands on her body now, caressing her,
fondling her. In the mirror, she watched him insert his fingers into her, felt her body responding against her will, her vaginal walls trying to pull his fingers in deeper, her juices flowing. She heard him moan, saw him bury his face in her cunt and start sucking. Her mind was strangely exhilarated by the sensations she was feeling and despite her situation, a moan of pleasure fought its way past the ball gag. Who knew that being hanged could turn you on? She wished she'd known that before she died. As it was, she had the best orgasm of her life just before everything went black.Since it was a Friday night that she died, her body wasn't found until Monday morning when one of the men in the building in which she was murdered took a bathroom break. Scrawled in a red lipstick taken from the dead woman's purse was the message, "Mmmmmm...they're getting juicier" signed again by the Hangman.
Hangman - Part II
She was lying on her side on the cold cement floor, her arms and legs tightly bound in a hogtie position, her back arched painfully, a dirty rag stuffed into her mouth and tied behind her neck. She looked around her, tears streaming down 
her face and saw a man squatting nearby. As he approached her, she began pleading behind the gag, her cries muffled and filled with fear. He looped a rope around her throat and pulled it backwards, pulling her head back painfully and fastening the rope to the knots that bound her wrists and ankles together. He tore her blouse and bra off in one motion and rolled her onto her stomach. As she strangled, he pushed her skirt up over her hips, spread her knees to the side and entered her from behind. Terrified, she struggled against him, her bindings becoming tighter. Strangled noises escaped from around her gag as he violently fucked her. She lost consciousness as he climaxed.
She woke to find herself laying across his lap, still in the hogtie position, but the rope around her throat no longer tied to her wrists. At some point, he had removed her clothing and was stroking her nude body as she shuddered in fear.
She tried to beg him to stop, but the cries escaping the gag were incoherent. He pushed her onto the floor and began pulling on a rope beside him, which she soon discovered was attached to a noose around her throat and strung over a heavy pipe on the ceiling. He pointed out the mirror to her and she watched in morbid fascination as he hoisted her up by the neck, leaving her to dangle with her knees barely brushing the floor below. He liked to let them watch themselves hang, to see the look in their eyes that they knew they were within mere inches of salvation and the realization and finally resignation that they would die anyway.
She flailed against her bindings which, as before, grew tighter with her struggles. After several moments, she felt herself being lowered to the floor and she welcomed the meager breaths she was able to take in. This respite was short-lived, however... She watched in terror in the mirror as the man approached on his knees and, lifting her off the floor, entered her again from behind and began fucking her, her nipples the only part of her body touching the floor. She felt him cum just as she resigned herself to her fate and as he hoisted her back up to hang, she could do nothing other than gaze at her reflection in the mirror and marvel at the brevity of life. The only noises now in the room were the creaking of the rope as she hanged and the soft splatter of fluids leaking onto the floor from her ravaged cunt.
Her body was first discovered the following afternoon by a group of gangbangers, who had their way with her corpse. They cut her down and used the noose to drag her out of the basement where they'd found her to a rock outcropping under a bridge over the East River a short distance away. There they laid her on a rock and proceeded to rape her body in every way imaginable. This is where her body was eventually found by a transient, who summoned a police officer. The Hangman's note was found inside a nearby abandoned factory building. "This one took awhile," it said.
her face and saw a man squatting nearby. As he approached her, she began pleading behind the gag, her cries muffled and filled with fear. He looped a rope around her throat and pulled it backwards, pulling her head back painfully and fastening the rope to the knots that bound her wrists and ankles together. He tore her blouse and bra off in one motion and rolled her onto her stomach. As she strangled, he pushed her skirt up over her hips, spread her knees to the side and entered her from behind. Terrified, she struggled against him, her bindings becoming tighter. Strangled noises escaped from around her gag as he violently fucked her. She lost consciousness as he climaxed. She woke to find herself laying across his lap, still in the hogtie position, but the rope around her throat no longer tied to her wrists. At some point, he had removed her clothing and was stroking her nude body as she shuddered in fear.
She tried to beg him to stop, but the cries escaping the gag were incoherent. He pushed her onto the floor and began pulling on a rope beside him, which she soon discovered was attached to a noose around her throat and strung over a heavy pipe on the ceiling. He pointed out the mirror to her and she watched in morbid fascination as he hoisted her up by the neck, leaving her to dangle with her knees barely brushing the floor below. He liked to let them watch themselves hang, to see the look in their eyes that they knew they were within mere inches of salvation and the realization and finally resignation that they would die anyway.She flailed against her bindings which, as before, grew tighter with her struggles. After several moments, she felt herself being lowered to the floor and she welcomed the meager breaths she was able to take in. This respite was short-lived, however... She watched in terror in the mirror as the man approached on his knees and, lifting her off the floor, entered her again from behind and began fucking her, her nipples the only part of her body touching the floor. She felt him cum just as she resigned herself to her fate and as he hoisted her back up to hang, she could do nothing other than gaze at her reflection in the mirror and marvel at the brevity of life. The only noises now in the room were the creaking of the rope as she hanged and the soft splatter of fluids leaking onto the floor from her ravaged cunt.
Her body was first discovered the following afternoon by a group of gangbangers, who had their way with her corpse. They cut her down and used the noose to drag her out of the basement where they'd found her to a rock outcropping under a bridge over the East River a short distance away. There they laid her on a rock and proceeded to rape her body in every way imaginable. This is where her body was eventually found by a transient, who summoned a police officer. The Hangman's note was found inside a nearby abandoned factory building. "This one took awhile," it said.
Hangman - Part I
The hooded man held her there, the belt fastened tightly around her throat and attached to the beam above her head, her wrists bound behind her back. When he released her, she began to strangle. She flailed her legs, desperately trying to find something to grab onto, to ease the pain on her throat and allow her to breathe.
The man tore her blouse open and grabbed her breasts, telling her to open her eyes. She opened her eyes to see herself reflected in a full-length mirror before her. She was hanging only a few inches above the floor and tried stretching her legs downward, desperately trying to reach the floor below. The belt tightened around her throat as she was able to lower herself about an inch and a half and stars burst across her vision. She could barely brush the cement floor below her with her big toes, not enough to support her weight and prevent her from hanging.
The vision in the mirror was both disturbing and provocative, somehow sensual in its struggles, and she couldn't help but stare at it while she struggled.
The man tore her blouse open and grabbed her breasts, telling her to open her eyes. She opened her eyes to see herself reflected in a full-length mirror before her. She was hanging only a few inches above the floor and tried stretching her legs downward, desperately trying to reach the floor below. The belt tightened around her throat as she was able to lower herself about an inch and a half and stars burst across her vision. She could barely brush the cement floor below her with her big toes, not enough to support her weight and prevent her from hanging. The vision in the mirror was both disturbing and provocative, somehow sensual in its struggles, and she couldn't help but stare at it while she struggled.
The man pulled her skirt up around her waist and tore her panties off, then began kneading her breasts with one hand and rubbing her cunt with the other, thrusting his fingers inside her as she got wet. She writhed against him in an effort to kick him away, but her efforts were futile, her body becoming too weak to fight him off. He lifted her slightly off the floor then and deposited her on his stiffened cock. She tried to lift her weight up, to ease the pressure on her neck, but it was no use. Her body finally began to give up its fight and slowly strangled as he raped her, its shudders and convulsions only serving to stir him into more of a frenzy as he assaulted her.Her body was found the next morning by a real estate agent who was showing the warehouse to some potential buyers. On the floor, lying in a puddle of urine and other bodily fluids, was a note: "Still hanging around." It was signed simply "Hangman."
Monday, August 11, 2008
Goodbye
I feel the noose tighten around my throat as he pulls the stool out from under me, the rope now taking my entire weight. My body swings at the end of the rope and it takes me a few moments to realize that this is real, that I really am being hanged. I can see him standing nearby, masturbating as I dangle before him.
My eyes dart around the room and my legs begin to scissor back and forth as I spin. My arms are bound tightly behind my back, my fingers clawing at the air, and I try to move my arms up on both sides in an attempt to reach the rope. My eyes plead with him not to do this. A hoarse croak escapes my lips as I try in vain to speak. My chest heaves and I hear a small, ragged wheeze as my lungs pull in a meager amount of air, all that they possibly can through my compressed windpipe.
I pull my knees up, then throw my feet down in a desperate attempt to reach the floor. I do this several times and then my legs fall still. I have given up the battle, resigned myself to my fate. Tiny flashes of light appear at the edges of my vision and I can feel the blood pulsing through my eardrums, hear the increasing pounding of my heart. I hear liquid somewhere close and realize that my bladder has just emptied itself onto the floor below me and I hear gas escape my bowels, embarrassed nonetheless despite my current situation.
He approaches me and stands before me, staring into my eyes. I feel one of his hands on my breasts and the other teasing my cunt, his thumb caressing my clitoris while he plunges the rest of his fingers inside me, pumping them feverishly. I feel my body responding to him despite my silent protests and small sounds (of pleasure?) escape my lips. My hips thrust towards him with each movement of his hand and I feel myself approaching orgasm.
Suddenly he's behind me, lifting my ass in the air and holding my legs at his hips. Is he releasing me? Lifting me up so I can breathe again?
No.
He fucks me from behind while I hang before him. Each thrust of his cock sends shivers of both pain and pleasure through my body. I try to spread my legs wider, to take him into me deeper, deciding that if I must die this way, I may as well take some of the pleasure for myself.
I feel my body begin losing its battle. My lungs burning, my chest heaves uselessly, and my body begins to flail in a last ditch effort to save itself. These movements seem to excite him and he pumps his cock into me even faster. Finally his body thrusts forward and I feel him cum inside me. He reaches forward and runs his hands along my rib cage and down to my waist, holding himself inside me while he savors his release. My body pulses twice again and goes still. The thumps in my ear drums slow and finally stop. The room appears red before me and then suddenly it's racing away from me and I see it only as if through a long black tunnel, which slowly fades to black.
He releases my legs then and lets me fall, leaving my lifeless body to dangle at the end of the rope.
My eyes dart around the room and my legs begin to scissor back and forth as I spin. My arms are bound tightly behind my back, my fingers clawing at the air, and I try to move my arms up on both sides in an attempt to reach the rope. My eyes plead with him not to do this. A hoarse croak escapes my lips as I try in vain to speak. My chest heaves and I hear a small, ragged wheeze as my lungs pull in a meager amount of air, all that they possibly can through my compressed windpipe.
I pull my knees up, then throw my feet down in a desperate attempt to reach the floor. I do this several times and then my legs fall still. I have given up the battle, resigned myself to my fate. Tiny flashes of light appear at the edges of my vision and I can feel the blood pulsing through my eardrums, hear the increasing pounding of my heart. I hear liquid somewhere close and realize that my bladder has just emptied itself onto the floor below me and I hear gas escape my bowels, embarrassed nonetheless despite my current situation.
He approaches me and stands before me, staring into my eyes. I feel one of his hands on my breasts and the other teasing my cunt, his thumb caressing my clitoris while he plunges the rest of his fingers inside me, pumping them feverishly. I feel my body responding to him despite my silent protests and small sounds (of pleasure?) escape my lips. My hips thrust towards him with each movement of his hand and I feel myself approaching orgasm.
Suddenly he's behind me, lifting my ass in the air and holding my legs at his hips. Is he releasing me? Lifting me up so I can breathe again?
No.
He fucks me from behind while I hang before him. Each thrust of his cock sends shivers of both pain and pleasure through my body. I try to spread my legs wider, to take him into me deeper, deciding that if I must die this way, I may as well take some of the pleasure for myself. I feel my body begin losing its battle. My lungs burning, my chest heaves uselessly, and my body begins to flail in a last ditch effort to save itself. These movements seem to excite him and he pumps his cock into me even faster. Finally his body thrusts forward and I feel him cum inside me. He reaches forward and runs his hands along my rib cage and down to my waist, holding himself inside me while he savors his release. My body pulses twice again and goes still. The thumps in my ear drums slow and finally stop. The room appears red before me and then suddenly it's racing away from me and I see it only as if through a long black tunnel, which slowly fades to black.
He releases my legs then and lets me fall, leaving my lifeless body to dangle at the end of the rope.
Think Again...
When you strangled me last night, I bet you thought I deserved it, didn't you? That you would be getting the better of me, right? Let me tell you what happened. You came into the room and woke me from a dead sleep by stuffing your cock into my cunt from behind. No foreplay, no fondling, nothing... Of course, I got angry, told you to slow down. That's when you grabbed your belt from the bedside table, wrapped it around my throat and started strangling me. There I was...my ass in the air as you assaulted my cunt, my chest and forearms on the bed, and now my neck was being pulled backwards as you strangled me.
The first thing I noticed was that I started to get wet. Which was a good thing considering the chafing you were giving me. I tried to lift my hands to claw at the rope, but you paused long enough to grab my hands, pull them back and shove them under your knees, pinning me to the bed. While you did this, I sucked in some big gasps of air and again begged you to stop. My cries were cut off again as you resumed strangling me. I struggled against you, my squirming only serving to turn you on more, and my ass wiggling in the air, giving you exactly what you wanted.
My chest heaved in an effort to take in air, but it was no use. My hands clawed at your legs, but I felt myself getting weaker. I felt a deep moan of pleasure escape you as my vaginal muscles pulsed and contracted around your cock, essentially sucking you in and then trying to force you out. My body began to shudder beneath you and we climaxed together. You quickly rolled me over onto my back then and spurted your load across my stomach and chest, giving a few extra yanks on the belt.
I croaked weakly and managed to mutter a small "...please..." You grabbed my face in your right hand and squeezed my cheeks. "Please what?!" you sneered. You turned then, your ass in my face and thrust your cock into my throat. I was sort of shocked by this - you'd never gotten hard again so quickly after cumming before. This must have been a real turn-on for you. You proceeded to fuck my throat wildly and again I was deprived of air. I tried to kick at you with my legs, but you grabbed them with your arms, spread them wide, pinned them to the bed and began sucking at my clitoris.
I felt myself choking on your cock. You knew I'd never sucked cock before, you knew I found it repulsive and gross and had never pushed the subject, but here you were pumping it deep into my throat as if you did it every day. My body heaved beneath you as I tried to buck you off me. I felt you shoot your cum into my throat then, just as an insane orgasm ripped through me.
You grabbed the belt that was still around my throat and yanked me to my feet, lifted me onto a chair, and tied the belt to the beam above the bed. Kicking the chair out from beneath me, you laid back on the bed and watched me hang. After your recent onslaught, my body was too weak to fight, so while my legs flailed a bit and my chest heaved once or twice, I'm sure I didn't give you the show you wanted.
Serves you right, motherfucker. If you'd only ASKED first, TOLD me that you got off on hanging and strangling, I'd have gladly given you the night of your life...over and over and over again. Instead you left me here overnight, a friend found me this morning, and the cops have arrested you for my murder. Nice job, dipshit!
The first thing I noticed was that I started to get wet. Which was a good thing considering the chafing you were giving me. I tried to lift my hands to claw at the rope, but you paused long enough to grab my hands, pull them back and shove them under your knees, pinning me to the bed. While you did this, I sucked in some big gasps of air and again begged you to stop. My cries were cut off again as you resumed strangling me. I struggled against you, my squirming only serving to turn you on more, and my ass wiggling in the air, giving you exactly what you wanted.My chest heaved in an effort to take in air, but it was no use. My hands clawed at your legs, but I felt myself getting weaker. I felt a deep moan of pleasure escape you as my vaginal muscles pulsed and contracted around your cock, essentially sucking you in and then trying to force you out. My body began to shudder beneath you and we climaxed together. You quickly rolled me over onto my back then and spurted your load across my stomach and chest, giving a few extra yanks on the belt.
I croaked weakly and managed to mutter a small "...please..." You grabbed my face in your right hand and squeezed my cheeks. "Please what?!" you sneered. You turned then, your ass in my face and thrust your cock into my throat. I was sort of shocked by this - you'd never gotten hard again so quickly after cumming before. This must have been a real turn-on for you. You proceeded to fuck my throat wildly and again I was deprived of air. I tried to kick at you with my legs, but you grabbed them with your arms, spread them wide, pinned them to the bed and began sucking at my clitoris.
I felt myself choking on your cock. You knew I'd never sucked cock before, you knew I found it repulsive and gross and had never pushed the subject, but here you were pumping it deep into my throat as if you did it every day. My body heaved beneath you as I tried to buck you off me. I felt you shoot your cum into my throat then, just as an insane orgasm ripped through me.
You grabbed the belt that was still around my throat and yanked me to my feet, lifted me onto a chair, and tied the belt to the beam above the bed. Kicking the chair out from beneath me, you laid back on the bed and watched me hang. After your recent onslaught, my body was too weak to fight, so while my legs flailed a bit and my chest heaved once or twice, I'm sure I didn't give you the show you wanted. Serves you right, motherfucker. If you'd only ASKED first, TOLD me that you got off on hanging and strangling, I'd have gladly given you the night of your life...over and over and over again. Instead you left me here overnight, a friend found me this morning, and the cops have arrested you for my murder. Nice job, dipshit!
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Rubi's Fantasy Sessions - Part II
Dear Stranger,
Our Friday evenings have been incredible. Thank you so much for allowing me to live and to continue to have my fantasies fulfilled. I promised you that if you tired of the present fantasy, I would give you details of another and so I am pleased to give you these new instructions.
Once again, you will secure the room number that I left in the nightstand last Friday and you will arrive promptly at 11:30 p.m. In the room, you will find me lying on the bed, fully clothed. In the top drawer of the nightstand, you will find a long silken rope, again with a noose on one end and with a loop on the other. In the closet, you will find a very heavy waist-high cart with a small hand-cranked winch attached to the top. You will see in the center of the room a large chandelier. Bring the winch into the room and pull the chair in the corner underneath the chandelier. Loop the rope through the pulley that you will find secured to the ceiling above the chandelier (you will have to look for it, it is not obviously visible from the room). You can then replace the chair in the corner of the room. Secure the loop end of the rope to the winch and press the controls, raising the noose to an adequate height.
Bring me to the center of the room where the noose is. You may bring me here however you wish – drag me by my hair, carry me, push me, or simply command it. Please do what you wish to my clothing – tear them off, cut them off, whatever pleases you. Place the noose over my head.
At this point, the only thing left of MY fantasy is to be hanged and fucked. How you go about doing those two things is entirely at your discretion.
If you have not experienced this type of session before, allow me to once again clue you in on a few things that may take place. My legs will likely move in ways in which I do not command them. Keep this in mind when you are near me. As usual, I attempt to delay my body’s struggles as long as possible, for both your pleasure and my own, but sometimes it is out of my control. I may try to push you away with my hands, or pull your hair. I may try to climb up on you in my efforts to release the pressure on my neck. If these actions concern you, feel free to bind my arms and legs in a way that pleases you. As you have no doubt realized, I love to be spread wide open. I think it has to do with the vulnerability of such a position. It also allows a lover easy access to the part of my body that (likely) most pleases him.
One lover was particularly fond of an airborne hogtie, my wrists and ankles bound together behind my back. You will find hooks in various places around the room, discreetly hidden from view (look behind wall sconces and dressers, inside closets, etc.). In the closet is a bag with additional silk ropes which you can use to spread my knees wide and secure to hooks on the walls.
I have noticed, too, that you like to sit back and watch sometimes. If this is the case, please be reminded that we will be meeting every Friday. Feel free to take a session here or there to simply watch. The bag with the ropes in it contains many other items as well. My body is for your pleasure – play with it, tease it, torture it – bring me to the edge and back me off. Be creative!
As always, I have left the appropriate note at home for discovery if our session should go awry. We can continue this fantasy each Friday evening until you tire of it, at which point we can discuss my other fantasies. If you would like to alternate these fantasies, please leave a note to that effect in the bottom nightstand drawer and your wish is my command. As time passes and my trust in you increases, I may allow you to request a fantasy of your choosing.
Lovingly,
Our Friday evenings have been incredible. Thank you so much for allowing me to live and to continue to have my fantasies fulfilled. I promised you that if you tired of the present fantasy, I would give you details of another and so I am pleased to give you these new instructions.
Once again, you will secure the room number that I left in the nightstand last Friday and you will arrive promptly at 11:30 p.m. In the room, you will find me lying on the bed, fully clothed. In the top drawer of the nightstand, you will find a long silken rope, again with a noose on one end and with a loop on the other. In the closet, you will find a very heavy waist-high cart with a small hand-cranked winch attached to the top. You will see in the center of the room a large chandelier. Bring the winch into the room and pull the chair in the corner underneath the chandelier. Loop the rope through the pulley that you will find secured to the ceiling above the chandelier (you will have to look for it, it is not obviously visible from the room). You can then replace the chair in the corner of the room. Secure the loop end of the rope to the winch and press the controls, raising the noose to an adequate height.
Bring me to the center of the room where the noose is. You may bring me here however you wish – drag me by my hair, carry me, push me, or simply command it. Please do what you wish to my clothing – tear them off, cut them off, whatever pleases you. Place the noose over my head.
At this point, the only thing left of MY fantasy is to be hanged and fucked. How you go about doing those two things is entirely at your discretion.
If you have not experienced this type of session before, allow me to once again clue you in on a few things that may take place. My legs will likely move in ways in which I do not command them. Keep this in mind when you are near me. As usual, I attempt to delay my body’s struggles as long as possible, for both your pleasure and my own, but sometimes it is out of my control. I may try to push you away with my hands, or pull your hair. I may try to climb up on you in my efforts to release the pressure on my neck. If these actions concern you, feel free to bind my arms and legs in a way that pleases you. As you have no doubt realized, I love to be spread wide open. I think it has to do with the vulnerability of such a position. It also allows a lover easy access to the part of my body that (likely) most pleases him.
One lover was particularly fond of an airborne hogtie, my wrists and ankles bound together behind my back. You will find hooks in various places around the room, discreetly hidden from view (look behind wall sconces and dressers, inside closets, etc.). In the closet is a bag with additional silk ropes which you can use to spread my knees wide and secure to hooks on the walls.I have noticed, too, that you like to sit back and watch sometimes. If this is the case, please be reminded that we will be meeting every Friday. Feel free to take a session here or there to simply watch. The bag with the ropes in it contains many other items as well. My body is for your pleasure – play with it, tease it, torture it – bring me to the edge and back me off. Be creative!
As always, I have left the appropriate note at home for discovery if our session should go awry. We can continue this fantasy each Friday evening until you tire of it, at which point we can discuss my other fantasies. If you would like to alternate these fantasies, please leave a note to that effect in the bottom nightstand drawer and your wish is my command. As time passes and my trust in you increases, I may allow you to request a fantasy of your choosing.
Lovingly,
Rubi
Rubi's Fantasy Sessions - Part I
Dear Stranger,
I was so thrilled to receive your e-mail expressing an interest in assisting me in living out my fantasy. Should you choose to accept this “mission,” I have some very specific steps that must be followed.
On Friday afternoon, you will contact the Shasta Suites Hotel and you will reserve Room 523 under the name of Mr. Xavier. That evening you will arrive precisely at 11:30 pm and enter the room. You will find me on the bed dressed in a bra and panties. You will remove your clothing as you approach the bed. You will not speak to me. From the top drawer of the nightstand, you will remove the items there and use them to bind my wrists and ankles to the bed posts, pulling my arms and legs as wide and as tightly as possible.
Fondle and caress me a bit, push my bra up above my breasts and suck on my tits. Tear my panties off (I don’t want them, so please rip them off roughly and throw them on the floor).
You will find a red silken rope coiled on the nightstand. On one end, a noose; on the other, a loop. You will place the noose over my head. Reaching between the slats of the headboard, you will find a hook affixed to the wall (yes…I have been here before), and you will place the loop at the other end of the rope onto this hook.
Pull me down a bit on the bed if you have to. I should be “hanging” horizontally now, and the only sounds escaping my mouth should be small and rasping. I will fight the urge to struggle for as long as I can. Your cock should be stiffening by now…and I want it inside me. Thrust it as deep as you can, and fuck me hard.
From past experience, I can tell you a few things that may or may not happen. I may thrust my hips up off the bed to take you in deeper, if possible. I say that’s what I’m trying to do, but it’s actually part of my body’s struggles. My body is often weaker than my mind, and while I will try to hold my stuggles off as long as possible, sometimes my body has a mind of its own. My back will probably arch upwards, thrusting my breasts up towards you – please put your arms around me and hold me there. Please suck on my tits. That turns me on. Once my back arches, I’ve lost my ability to fend off my body’s fight for life, so just enjoy the ride from here on out as I buck and flail beneath you. If you tire of this “missionary” position, feel free to turn around and fuck my throat. Take care, please, not to break my neck, though. Keep in mind that I have a noose around my throat.
When you’re finished, please take the time to loosen the noose and move me upwards on the bed before you leave.
Just a few more things before you write me back with your answer. I have played out this fantasy several times and anticipate doing it many more times. That said, if you should find me dead when you are finished, please rest assured that I will have left documentation at home – a suicide note, if you will – that will exonerate you of all charges if foul play is suspected. If, however, you take care not to allow that to happen, you can look forward to playing with me each and every Friday evening until you tire of it. In the bottom drawer of the nightstand, you will find the name and room number of the hotel for the following week’s encounter. If you tire of the current fantasy, we can discuss my other fantasies at that time.
I hope that you are interested and will participate. I look forward to your reply and will be checking my e-mail frequently in anticipation.
Lovingly,
Rubi
I was so thrilled to receive your e-mail expressing an interest in assisting me in living out my fantasy. Should you choose to accept this “mission,” I have some very specific steps that must be followed.
On Friday afternoon, you will contact the Shasta Suites Hotel and you will reserve Room 523 under the name of Mr. Xavier. That evening you will arrive precisely at 11:30 pm and enter the room. You will find me on the bed dressed in a bra and panties. You will remove your clothing as you approach the bed. You will not speak to me. From the top drawer of the nightstand, you will remove the items there and use them to bind my wrists and ankles to the bed posts, pulling my arms and legs as wide and as tightly as possible.
Fondle and caress me a bit, push my bra up above my breasts and suck on my tits. Tear my panties off (I don’t want them, so please rip them off roughly and throw them on the floor).
You will find a red silken rope coiled on the nightstand. On one end, a noose; on the other, a loop. You will place the noose over my head. Reaching between the slats of the headboard, you will find a hook affixed to the wall (yes…I have been here before), and you will place the loop at the other end of the rope onto this hook.
Pull me down a bit on the bed if you have to. I should be “hanging” horizontally now, and the only sounds escaping my mouth should be small and rasping. I will fight the urge to struggle for as long as I can. Your cock should be stiffening by now…and I want it inside me. Thrust it as deep as you can, and fuck me hard.From past experience, I can tell you a few things that may or may not happen. I may thrust my hips up off the bed to take you in deeper, if possible. I say that’s what I’m trying to do, but it’s actually part of my body’s struggles. My body is often weaker than my mind, and while I will try to hold my stuggles off as long as possible, sometimes my body has a mind of its own. My back will probably arch upwards, thrusting my breasts up towards you – please put your arms around me and hold me there. Please suck on my tits. That turns me on. Once my back arches, I’ve lost my ability to fend off my body’s fight for life, so just enjoy the ride from here on out as I buck and flail beneath you. If you tire of this “missionary” position, feel free to turn around and fuck my throat. Take care, please, not to break my neck, though. Keep in mind that I have a noose around my throat.
When you’re finished, please take the time to loosen the noose and move me upwards on the bed before you leave.
Just a few more things before you write me back with your answer. I have played out this fantasy several times and anticipate doing it many more times. That said, if you should find me dead when you are finished, please rest assured that I will have left documentation at home – a suicide note, if you will – that will exonerate you of all charges if foul play is suspected. If, however, you take care not to allow that to happen, you can look forward to playing with me each and every Friday evening until you tire of it. In the bottom drawer of the nightstand, you will find the name and room number of the hotel for the following week’s encounter. If you tire of the current fantasy, we can discuss my other fantasies at that time.
I hope that you are interested and will participate. I look forward to your reply and will be checking my e-mail frequently in anticipation.
Lovingly,
Rubi
Dangle
Climbing up on the stepladder, he ran the rope through the pulley attached to the beam that ran through the cathedral ceiling in his living room. The pulley was directly in the center of the room, the beam about 15 feet above the floor and he lowered the hangman’s noose on the end of the rope until it dangled about 7 feet above the floor. Perfect.
Climbing down off the stepladder, he checked the winch to ensure that the other end of the rope was securely fastened, then sat on the couch, reclined it back and dropped his left hand to the side to make sure he could easily reach the winch controls. Again…perfect!
When he was finished preparing, he put on his jacket, grabbed his keys and headed out to the truck. She was intrigued by him, dying for him to ask her out. Little did she know, tonight was the night! He’d been wooing her for two weeks now, teasing her with tales of his incredible cooking skills, and they’d arranged their first date for this evening. He’d told her to dress sexy.
When he got to her apartment, “sexy” was an understatement. She was dressed in the proverbial “little black dress” but that description did it no justice at all. Her skirt fell a little less than halfway down her thighs, accenting her shapely thighs. Bright red stiletto heels showed off her perfectly toned calves and her bronze tan. Her top, a thin black Cashmere sweater with a plunging neckline framed her firm DD breasts. His assessment of her started at the floor and his breath caught when he came to the deep purple choker around her throat, a lone moonstone secured at its center. He met her eyes and tried not to lick his lips. She smiled demurely and tilted her head shyly to the right. Her flirting skills were exemplary. It was obvious she’d had lots of practice.
He walked her to the car and opened the door for her, closing it gently behind her. He could feel his cock hardening under his jeans. She made small talk during the ride to his cabin, commenting on the seclusion and telling him it must be nice to be so far from the hustle and bustle of civilization. He agreed, saying it was great to leave his job in the city behind on the weekends and get away from it all.
He held the front door open for her and walked in behind her. Seeing the noose hanging in the middle of the room, she turned to him with a confused look on her face, gasping when she saw the grin on his face and the glint in his eyes. Her eyes widened and she began shaking her head slowly. “Please, don’t do this,” she whispered.
He dropped his jacket onto the floor and walked towards her, the smile not leaving his face.
“Please,” she said quietly, more desperation in her voice this time. “I’ll do anything you want…”
He pointed at the chair that stood beneath the noose. “I know,” he replied. “I want you to stand there.”
She shook her head. “Please.”
“Do it!” he said, striking her hard across the face.
She cried then, yelped. He shoved her forward and she stumbled up onto the chair, turning to look down at him.
“Take your clothes off,” he commanded.
She shook her head again. “No,” she whispered. “No, please…”
“DO IT!” he yelled and this time she screamed.
He laughed. “It IS nice being so far away from it all.” His face grew serious and he looked up at her. “You can scream all you want. There’s nobody to hear. I own 5,000 acres. I have no neighbors. You will cooperate with me. Now. TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF!”
She lifted her sweater up over her head and he licked his lips again when he saw the lacy black bra she wore. “I like that,” he snickered. “Leave that on.”
She removed her skirt next, revealing a matching pair of lacy thong panties. “That too,” he said.
She stood on the chair in her stilettos, her body quivering, ashamed of her near nakedness before this stranger.
“Put the noose around your neck,” he said. She did not argue this time and poked her head through the noose, tears beginning to fall from her cheeks onto her breasts.
“P-p-please…” she said weakly.
He moved backwards to the couch, leaning back with one hand to start the winch and the noose slowly rose until she was on tiptoes, the heels of her shoes lifting slightly from the chair. Her breath began to rasp as the noose tightened around her tender throat. Her choker broke and fell to the floor.
“Please…” she croaked. He reached up to slide her bra up off her breasts and began kneading them. He pulled at the front of her panties with one hand and tore them from her, then pushed a finger into her cunt.
“Mmmm,” he mumbled. He looked up at her. “You’re getting wet,” he said. “This turning you on?” She shook her head, the best she could with the noose around her neck.
He spread her thighs with both hands and her breath was cut off as the noose took the full weight of her body. Small squeaks escaped her as she struggled to lift herself up. He put her thighs on his shoulders, knocking one of her shoes off with the action, and buried his face in her cunt, thrusting his tongue inside her and pausing every few moments to suck greedily at her clitoris. The pressure on her neck eased, her weight now being supported by his shoulders.
She rolled her head back and squeezed her eyes shut tightly, summoning her courage and deciding to respond to him – perhaps he would spare her if she gave him what he wanted. She began moving her hips in slight circles and moaned quietly, concentrating on his assault on her cunt and the pleasure that was hidden beneath her fear. Her body shook with an orgasm and she heard him grunt and slurp thirstily at her vagina.
When she stopped quivering, he moved her back to the chair and stepped back from her. It took her a fearful moment to regain her balance, but she forced herself to stand on her tiptoes, the only way to avoid being strangled. She watched him removing his clothes and saw that he was hard.
“Oh you’re not getting that,” he said. “At least not yet…maybe after.”
He walked backwards and lowered himself to the couch, dropping his left hand to the winch and pressing a button there. The noose tightened on her throat and rose a couple of inches. Her eyes widened in fear and she struggled to stay on the chair, her shoeless foot no longer able to reach it. She reached up to the rope and tried to get her fingers under it as he raised it a couple of more inches. She was now dangling several inches above the chair and tried desperately to reach her feet down to the chair again, but her efforts were futile. She spread her arms then, reaching out – to the side and front, reaching upwards, taking on the appearance of an angel reaching towards Heaven. Ragged, husky gasps tried to pull air into her lungs while the oxygen to her brain slowly diminished. Her legs scissored forward and back and she lifted them up, spread them wide and swung them side to side, trying to find something she could reach with them, before letting them back down and continuing to run in midair.
Again clawing at the rope, she looked down to see him pumping his cock with one hand and pressing the button again to raise her several more inches. She could hear her heart pumping fiercely in her ears, felt her tongue beginning to protrude and the pressure behind her eyes causing them to bulge. The pain was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Her lungs burned, trying desperately to make use of the small amounts of air that were able to pass through her constricted airway. Her raspy gasps became smaller and quieter. Her body bucked at the end of the rope several more times and then fell still, swinging forward and back and slowly around in a circle, the rope creaking. She spread her arms outward again and several more desperate gasps escaped her mouth around her swollen tongue. She felt wetness between her legs and realized that her bladder had emptied itself.
She swung silently then, blackness encroaching on her from all sides, and became acutely aware of every sensation – her burning lungs, the fluid dripping from her body, her tongue now protruding from her mouth, spittle falling from it to the floor below, the creaking rope, her stiletto shoe which had left her heel, but still hung from her toes, the sound of his grunts as he pumped himself to climax. Through a red haze and foggy mind, it all seemed so surreal. Her legs shuddered and she fell still then, her body turning on the rope. Her mouth gaped several times and saliva ran off the end of her tongue. As her life ebbed away, all she could do was stare down at the man who had stolen it, watching as he closed his eyes and smiled in pleasure, his cock losing its erection as it spewed itself onto the floor in front of him.
When he’d rested for several minutes, he got up and went to the mudroom out the back door, returning with a mop and bucket. Filling the bucket with water, he mopped up the urine, saliva, and vaginal fluids that had dripped from her body and also the sperm that lay on the floor before the couch. He got a washcloth and wiped the fluids from her legs. He was not about to smell that stink while he was having his dinner. He looked up at her from below – her face, an angry purple, was tilted slightly downward, her eyes protruding from her face, open but unseeing, already beginning to fog with death. Her swollen tongue had pushed itself out of her mouth and strings of saliva still hung from it, dripping silently to the floor. He dropped a towel below her to catch any additional fluids that might fall.
He threw the washcloth in the bucket, returned the bucket and mop to the mudroom, and moved around the kitchen preparing his supper. As he chopped onions, he looked up at her body swaying ever so slightly in the middle of the living room, dangling 9 feet above the floor, and was glad he’d opted for an open floor plan. A slight shudder went through her body and it jerked at the end of the rope, her eyes suddenly seeming to come alive again, widening in sheer terror, and her mouth stretching open in one last attempt to pull in oxygen. It was rare, but this happened sometimes.
He shook his head and looked back down at the onions and recalled his third dangler, the one that caused him to now let them dangle until he was done with his dinner. He’d cut her down ten minutes after he’d finished himself off. As he’d caressed her body, savoring its coldness and slightly blue tinge, her back had suddenly arched up off the floor, her eyes open and alive, filled with fear, and she tried desperately to let out a scream through her shattered vocal chords. He’d scrambled backwards across the floor, glad that he had not removed the noose from her neck, and had slammed his hand down on the winch controls, hoisting her back up into the air. Her body had flailed and thrashed wildly at the end of the rope, her legs kicking desperately and her arms grasping at the air and clawing at the rope, her eyes wide and full of horror and pain. One foot struck a lamp and she swung her legs then, desperate for her feet to find purchase on something, anything. She had managed to hook them onto a large sconce on the wall, but this did not relieve the pressure on her neck and she had hung there, her breasts and stomach hanging down towards the floor, her feet clinging desperately to the wall sconce, her back arched downward. He had sat on the couch slightly surprised at this close call and looked up at her, her eyes pleading with him and her arms stretched down towards him, watching as she strangled there, the muscles in her legs and feet refusing to release their hold on the wall sconce, even as the life left her body. He’d left her there while he prepared and ate dinner and then had to use the stepladder and break the wall sconce to get her down.
He looked back up at his latest dangler, who had now returned to her previous state of slowly swinging at the end of the rope. His eyes moved down from her lifeless face to the noose around her neck and the indentation it was making in her throat. From there, his eyes descended to her bra, still pushed up above her breasts, which were thrust out before her, her nipples erect and blue; her slim waist, her hips, her voluptuous thighs and well-muscled calves. Her one red stiletto still clung to the toes of her left foot and he found it oddly sensuous.
He returned to his dinner preparations, urgent now to have his dinner and then – another glance at her dangling body – his “dessert.”
He prepared pork loin, pasta with a light red sauce, and fresh steamed vegetables, accompanied with a glass of white wine.
Climbing down off the stepladder, he checked the winch to ensure that the other end of the rope was securely fastened, then sat on the couch, reclined it back and dropped his left hand to the side to make sure he could easily reach the winch controls. Again…perfect!
When he was finished preparing, he put on his jacket, grabbed his keys and headed out to the truck. She was intrigued by him, dying for him to ask her out. Little did she know, tonight was the night! He’d been wooing her for two weeks now, teasing her with tales of his incredible cooking skills, and they’d arranged their first date for this evening. He’d told her to dress sexy.When he got to her apartment, “sexy” was an understatement. She was dressed in the proverbial “little black dress” but that description did it no justice at all. Her skirt fell a little less than halfway down her thighs, accenting her shapely thighs. Bright red stiletto heels showed off her perfectly toned calves and her bronze tan. Her top, a thin black Cashmere sweater with a plunging neckline framed her firm DD breasts. His assessment of her started at the floor and his breath caught when he came to the deep purple choker around her throat, a lone moonstone secured at its center. He met her eyes and tried not to lick his lips. She smiled demurely and tilted her head shyly to the right. Her flirting skills were exemplary. It was obvious she’d had lots of practice.
He walked her to the car and opened the door for her, closing it gently behind her. He could feel his cock hardening under his jeans. She made small talk during the ride to his cabin, commenting on the seclusion and telling him it must be nice to be so far from the hustle and bustle of civilization. He agreed, saying it was great to leave his job in the city behind on the weekends and get away from it all.
He held the front door open for her and walked in behind her. Seeing the noose hanging in the middle of the room, she turned to him with a confused look on her face, gasping when she saw the grin on his face and the glint in his eyes. Her eyes widened and she began shaking her head slowly. “Please, don’t do this,” she whispered.
He dropped his jacket onto the floor and walked towards her, the smile not leaving his face.
“Please,” she said quietly, more desperation in her voice this time. “I’ll do anything you want…”
He pointed at the chair that stood beneath the noose. “I know,” he replied. “I want you to stand there.”
She shook her head. “Please.”
“Do it!” he said, striking her hard across the face.
She cried then, yelped. He shoved her forward and she stumbled up onto the chair, turning to look down at him.
“Take your clothes off,” he commanded.
She shook her head again. “No,” she whispered. “No, please…”
“DO IT!” he yelled and this time she screamed.
He laughed. “It IS nice being so far away from it all.” His face grew serious and he looked up at her. “You can scream all you want. There’s nobody to hear. I own 5,000 acres. I have no neighbors. You will cooperate with me. Now. TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF!”
She lifted her sweater up over her head and he licked his lips again when he saw the lacy black bra she wore. “I like that,” he snickered. “Leave that on.”
She removed her skirt next, revealing a matching pair of lacy thong panties. “That too,” he said.
She stood on the chair in her stilettos, her body quivering, ashamed of her near nakedness before this stranger.
“Put the noose around your neck,” he said. She did not argue this time and poked her head through the noose, tears beginning to fall from her cheeks onto her breasts.
“P-p-please…” she said weakly.
He moved backwards to the couch, leaning back with one hand to start the winch and the noose slowly rose until she was on tiptoes, the heels of her shoes lifting slightly from the chair. Her breath began to rasp as the noose tightened around her tender throat. Her choker broke and fell to the floor.
“Please…” she croaked. He reached up to slide her bra up off her breasts and began kneading them. He pulled at the front of her panties with one hand and tore them from her, then pushed a finger into her cunt.
“Mmmm,” he mumbled. He looked up at her. “You’re getting wet,” he said. “This turning you on?” She shook her head, the best she could with the noose around her neck.
He spread her thighs with both hands and her breath was cut off as the noose took the full weight of her body. Small squeaks escaped her as she struggled to lift herself up. He put her thighs on his shoulders, knocking one of her shoes off with the action, and buried his face in her cunt, thrusting his tongue inside her and pausing every few moments to suck greedily at her clitoris. The pressure on her neck eased, her weight now being supported by his shoulders.
She rolled her head back and squeezed her eyes shut tightly, summoning her courage and deciding to respond to him – perhaps he would spare her if she gave him what he wanted. She began moving her hips in slight circles and moaned quietly, concentrating on his assault on her cunt and the pleasure that was hidden beneath her fear. Her body shook with an orgasm and she heard him grunt and slurp thirstily at her vagina.
When she stopped quivering, he moved her back to the chair and stepped back from her. It took her a fearful moment to regain her balance, but she forced herself to stand on her tiptoes, the only way to avoid being strangled. She watched him removing his clothes and saw that he was hard.
“Oh you’re not getting that,” he said. “At least not yet…maybe after.”
He walked backwards and lowered himself to the couch, dropping his left hand to the winch and pressing a button there. The noose tightened on her throat and rose a couple of inches. Her eyes widened in fear and she struggled to stay on the chair, her shoeless foot no longer able to reach it. She reached up to the rope and tried to get her fingers under it as he raised it a couple of more inches. She was now dangling several inches above the chair and tried desperately to reach her feet down to the chair again, but her efforts were futile. She spread her arms then, reaching out – to the side and front, reaching upwards, taking on the appearance of an angel reaching towards Heaven. Ragged, husky gasps tried to pull air into her lungs while the oxygen to her brain slowly diminished. Her legs scissored forward and back and she lifted them up, spread them wide and swung them side to side, trying to find something she could reach with them, before letting them back down and continuing to run in midair.
Again clawing at the rope, she looked down to see him pumping his cock with one hand and pressing the button again to raise her several more inches. She could hear her heart pumping fiercely in her ears, felt her tongue beginning to protrude and the pressure behind her eyes causing them to bulge. The pain was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Her lungs burned, trying desperately to make use of the small amounts of air that were able to pass through her constricted airway. Her raspy gasps became smaller and quieter. Her body bucked at the end of the rope several more times and then fell still, swinging forward and back and slowly around in a circle, the rope creaking. She spread her arms outward again and several more desperate gasps escaped her mouth around her swollen tongue. She felt wetness between her legs and realized that her bladder had emptied itself.She swung silently then, blackness encroaching on her from all sides, and became acutely aware of every sensation – her burning lungs, the fluid dripping from her body, her tongue now protruding from her mouth, spittle falling from it to the floor below, the creaking rope, her stiletto shoe which had left her heel, but still hung from her toes, the sound of his grunts as he pumped himself to climax. Through a red haze and foggy mind, it all seemed so surreal. Her legs shuddered and she fell still then, her body turning on the rope. Her mouth gaped several times and saliva ran off the end of her tongue. As her life ebbed away, all she could do was stare down at the man who had stolen it, watching as he closed his eyes and smiled in pleasure, his cock losing its erection as it spewed itself onto the floor in front of him.
When he’d rested for several minutes, he got up and went to the mudroom out the back door, returning with a mop and bucket. Filling the bucket with water, he mopped up the urine, saliva, and vaginal fluids that had dripped from her body and also the sperm that lay on the floor before the couch. He got a washcloth and wiped the fluids from her legs. He was not about to smell that stink while he was having his dinner. He looked up at her from below – her face, an angry purple, was tilted slightly downward, her eyes protruding from her face, open but unseeing, already beginning to fog with death. Her swollen tongue had pushed itself out of her mouth and strings of saliva still hung from it, dripping silently to the floor. He dropped a towel below her to catch any additional fluids that might fall.
He threw the washcloth in the bucket, returned the bucket and mop to the mudroom, and moved around the kitchen preparing his supper. As he chopped onions, he looked up at her body swaying ever so slightly in the middle of the living room, dangling 9 feet above the floor, and was glad he’d opted for an open floor plan. A slight shudder went through her body and it jerked at the end of the rope, her eyes suddenly seeming to come alive again, widening in sheer terror, and her mouth stretching open in one last attempt to pull in oxygen. It was rare, but this happened sometimes.
He shook his head and looked back down at the onions and recalled his third dangler, the one that caused him to now let them dangle until he was done with his dinner. He’d cut her down ten minutes after he’d finished himself off. As he’d caressed her body, savoring its coldness and slightly blue tinge, her back had suddenly arched up off the floor, her eyes open and alive, filled with fear, and she tried desperately to let out a scream through her shattered vocal chords. He’d scrambled backwards across the floor, glad that he had not removed the noose from her neck, and had slammed his hand down on the winch controls, hoisting her back up into the air. Her body had flailed and thrashed wildly at the end of the rope, her legs kicking desperately and her arms grasping at the air and clawing at the rope, her eyes wide and full of horror and pain. One foot struck a lamp and she swung her legs then, desperate for her feet to find purchase on something, anything. She had managed to hook them onto a large sconce on the wall, but this did not relieve the pressure on her neck and she had hung there, her breasts and stomach hanging down towards the floor, her feet clinging desperately to the wall sconce, her back arched downward. He had sat on the couch slightly surprised at this close call and looked up at her, her eyes pleading with him and her arms stretched down towards him, watching as she strangled there, the muscles in her legs and feet refusing to release their hold on the wall sconce, even as the life left her body. He’d left her there while he prepared and ate dinner and then had to use the stepladder and break the wall sconce to get her down.He looked back up at his latest dangler, who had now returned to her previous state of slowly swinging at the end of the rope. His eyes moved down from her lifeless face to the noose around her neck and the indentation it was making in her throat. From there, his eyes descended to her bra, still pushed up above her breasts, which were thrust out before her, her nipples erect and blue; her slim waist, her hips, her voluptuous thighs and well-muscled calves. Her one red stiletto still clung to the toes of her left foot and he found it oddly sensuous.
He returned to his dinner preparations, urgent now to have his dinner and then – another glance at her dangling body – his “dessert.”
He prepared pork loin, pasta with a light red sauce, and fresh steamed vegetables, accompanied with a glass of white wine.
***TO BE CONTINUED***
Surprise
When my husband came in the door after work, I had a surprise for him. I’d spent the afternoon doing some landscaping between my legs and my cunt was as smooth as silk. Nude and feeling sensual, I fastened the padded handcuffs I’d bought recently to the bedposts. About a half hour before I expected him home, I’d positioned myself on the bed with my legs spread-eagled and clicked my ankles into the handcuffs. I then laid back on the bed, spread my arms up over my head and secured my wrists in those cuffs. I instantly felt myself get wet…just from the pure helplessness I’d just put myself in.
I spent the next 20 minutes imaging the surprise on Max’s face when he came home. I’d wanted to share my bondage fantasies with him for a very long time. My masturbation orgasms were always so much more powerful than the ones I had during our slightly-above-vanilla sex and I wanted so much to share that with him. I could only imagine what my orgasms would be like when I was truly helpless and at the mercy of another.
I heard the key in the front door and Max moving around in the kitchen. “Max?” I called. There was no reply, but I heard a crash in the kitchen, the sound of breaking glass. “Max?!” I called louder. Again, no reply.
I heard footsteps on the stairs and began to wonder if it was really Max I had heard. I could have sworn I heard the key in the door. I felt
slightly uncomfortable…hoping against hope that it wasn’t one of my parents…or Max’s.
“M-Max…?” I said hesitantly when I heard the footfalls pause outside the bedroom door. The door pushed slightly open and a gloved hand slid in and along the wall, flipping the lightswitch off.
“Oh my god,” I managed to whisper before the door opened. A man stood framed in the doorway – bigger than Max? It was hard to tell through the tears that sprang to my eyes and the fact that the only light in the room was that coming from the lamp at the end of the hall and stealing its way into the room behind the intruder. I could see that he was naked and wearing a mask. He stood there for a moment and I heard a small gasp, then a soft “Wow, all ready for me” and a rough snicker.
His cock stood before him, the site of my body, bound and helpless, obviously exciting him.
Realization dawned on me as he approached the bed. I was about to be raped. This man had broken into my house and was going to rape me. I sucked in a deep breath, ready to scream, when he suddenly shot across the room and put a hand over my mouth. I heard a rrrrippping sound and found a wide piece of duct tape across my mouth. A muffled cry escaped from behind the duct tape and I shook my head, struggling to get my hands and ankles free from the handcuffs.
The man straddled me and threw his gloves to the floor, then slapped his hands onto my breasts, kneading them, before moving his hands slowly down my body, along my rib cage, my small waist, and stopping at my hips. “Mmmm…” I heard him whisper, and then he bent at the waist, his ass in the air, and assaulted my cunt with his mouth. A muffled scream again pushed its way out beyond the duct tape and I struggled against my bindings. Despite my fear, I felt my body responding to him, shivers running up my spine and my juices lubricating my vagina. He “fed” hungrily on my cunt, thrusting his tongue deep inside and using one hand to caress my clitoris while the other reached up and kneaded my breasts. I looked down at him and saw that my vaginal juices were smearing the leather mask he wore over his head. Slowly, the mask slid up my stomach and he was again straddling me, sitting up above me, his eyes gazing down at his cock as he thrust it into my cunt. I struggled again and tried to call for Max, wondering where the hell he was – he should have been home by now – and cursing him because I knew he had probably stopped off for a drink with the guys after work.
The stranger continued his assault and my body continued to respond, despite my silent protests. I tried to scream again as he pumped his cock in and out of my slit. He grunted in reply and mumbled, “Shut the fuck up, bitch…”, his voice barely audible. He reached down and pulled a silk rope up off the bed, wrapping it twice around my throat. My eyes widened in fear as he pulled it tight and cut off my oxygen. I resumed struggling again, fiercer and more violently as my body fought to breathe. I felt my cunt betray me and become wetter still and wondered what was wrong with me that I was turned on by such a struggle for life.
The rapist’s thrusts began to slow and he backed himself away from climax, loosening and then tightening the rope around my throat and leaning forward to listen to my gasps for air. My back arched upwards as my lungs fought for oxygen, my breasts thrust forward into his face, and he leaned forward to suck on one of my nipples, once again tightening the rope and increasing his pumps into my cunt. “Mmmmm…” he muttered in a hoarse voice. “You taste good, bitch.” I quivered in fear and again struggled to breathe.
He sat up then and rode me to his climax, tightening the rope around my throat. I heard and felt the blood thumping in my eardrums and my vision began to blur, sharp daggers of light appearing in my peripheral vision. For his part, my attacker seemed to have forgotten that he was strangling me, so intent was he on thrusting his cock into me. I could hear his grunts as he approached climax. I felt his cum shoot into me and then everything went black.
When I awoke, my attacker was laying across me on the bed. I tried to scream, but my mouth was still taped firmly closed. I struggled against my bindings and tried to call for Max, but it was no use. The man’s body shifted on top of me and I felt him waking up. I looked down in fear and thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest from terror. He reached behind his head with one hand and reached for the duct tape on my mouth with the other. I closed my eyes as he tore the tape from my mouth and then opened my mouth to scream, only to find his hand over my mouth, silencing me. I began struggling against him and opened my eyes…
…to see Max peering down at me, his hair tousled from the hood he’d had over his head. When he was certain I was not going to scream, he removed his hand from my mouth and smiled crookedly. “You almost seemed to enjoy that,” he said.
I spent the next 20 minutes imaging the surprise on Max’s face when he came home. I’d wanted to share my bondage fantasies with him for a very long time. My masturbation orgasms were always so much more powerful than the ones I had during our slightly-above-vanilla sex and I wanted so much to share that with him. I could only imagine what my orgasms would be like when I was truly helpless and at the mercy of another.
I heard the key in the front door and Max moving around in the kitchen. “Max?” I called. There was no reply, but I heard a crash in the kitchen, the sound of breaking glass. “Max?!” I called louder. Again, no reply.
I heard footsteps on the stairs and began to wonder if it was really Max I had heard. I could have sworn I heard the key in the door. I felt
slightly uncomfortable…hoping against hope that it wasn’t one of my parents…or Max’s.“M-Max…?” I said hesitantly when I heard the footfalls pause outside the bedroom door. The door pushed slightly open and a gloved hand slid in and along the wall, flipping the lightswitch off.
“Oh my god,” I managed to whisper before the door opened. A man stood framed in the doorway – bigger than Max? It was hard to tell through the tears that sprang to my eyes and the fact that the only light in the room was that coming from the lamp at the end of the hall and stealing its way into the room behind the intruder. I could see that he was naked and wearing a mask. He stood there for a moment and I heard a small gasp, then a soft “Wow, all ready for me” and a rough snicker.
His cock stood before him, the site of my body, bound and helpless, obviously exciting him.
Realization dawned on me as he approached the bed. I was about to be raped. This man had broken into my house and was going to rape me. I sucked in a deep breath, ready to scream, when he suddenly shot across the room and put a hand over my mouth. I heard a rrrrippping sound and found a wide piece of duct tape across my mouth. A muffled cry escaped from behind the duct tape and I shook my head, struggling to get my hands and ankles free from the handcuffs.
The man straddled me and threw his gloves to the floor, then slapped his hands onto my breasts, kneading them, before moving his hands slowly down my body, along my rib cage, my small waist, and stopping at my hips. “Mmmm…” I heard him whisper, and then he bent at the waist, his ass in the air, and assaulted my cunt with his mouth. A muffled scream again pushed its way out beyond the duct tape and I struggled against my bindings. Despite my fear, I felt my body responding to him, shivers running up my spine and my juices lubricating my vagina. He “fed” hungrily on my cunt, thrusting his tongue deep inside and using one hand to caress my clitoris while the other reached up and kneaded my breasts. I looked down at him and saw that my vaginal juices were smearing the leather mask he wore over his head. Slowly, the mask slid up my stomach and he was again straddling me, sitting up above me, his eyes gazing down at his cock as he thrust it into my cunt. I struggled again and tried to call for Max, wondering where the hell he was – he should have been home by now – and cursing him because I knew he had probably stopped off for a drink with the guys after work.
The stranger continued his assault and my body continued to respond, despite my silent protests. I tried to scream again as he pumped his cock in and out of my slit. He grunted in reply and mumbled, “Shut the fuck up, bitch…”, his voice barely audible. He reached down and pulled a silk rope up off the bed, wrapping it twice around my throat. My eyes widened in fear as he pulled it tight and cut off my oxygen. I resumed struggling again, fiercer and more violently as my body fought to breathe. I felt my cunt betray me and become wetter still and wondered what was wrong with me that I was turned on by such a struggle for life.
The rapist’s thrusts began to slow and he backed himself away from climax, loosening and then tightening the rope around my throat and leaning forward to listen to my gasps for air. My back arched upwards as my lungs fought for oxygen, my breasts thrust forward into his face, and he leaned forward to suck on one of my nipples, once again tightening the rope and increasing his pumps into my cunt. “Mmmmm…” he muttered in a hoarse voice. “You taste good, bitch.” I quivered in fear and again struggled to breathe.
He sat up then and rode me to his climax, tightening the rope around my throat. I heard and felt the blood thumping in my eardrums and my vision began to blur, sharp daggers of light appearing in my peripheral vision. For his part, my attacker seemed to have forgotten that he was strangling me, so intent was he on thrusting his cock into me. I could hear his grunts as he approached climax. I felt his cum shoot into me and then everything went black.
When I awoke, my attacker was laying across me on the bed. I tried to scream, but my mouth was still taped firmly closed. I struggled against my bindings and tried to call for Max, but it was no use. The man’s body shifted on top of me and I felt him waking up. I looked down in fear and thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest from terror. He reached behind his head with one hand and reached for the duct tape on my mouth with the other. I closed my eyes as he tore the tape from my mouth and then opened my mouth to scream, only to find his hand over my mouth, silencing me. I began struggling against him and opened my eyes…
…to see Max peering down at me, his hair tousled from the hood he’d had over his head. When he was certain I was not going to scream, he removed his hand from my mouth and smiled crookedly. “You almost seemed to enjoy that,” he said.
Awakenings - Part II
You began the first “session” with a short period of breath control play, tightening the noose and caressing my pussy slowly with Your fingers, Your tongue tickling my nipples. As the movements became quicker, You tightened the noose and stopped teasing my body, then moved back to watch me struggle. I watched You through heavy lids, realizing that You were more excited by my helplessness, by my dance with Death, than by the act of using my body, and this excited me even more, made me want You even more. I watched Your face, watched how Your eyes took in all the desperate struggles of my body for oxygen, and I glanced down to see Your cock stiffening even more, and my desire to have it inside me increased my body’s struggles. I drove my hips forward, desperately trying to catch one small touch of Your cock against my body. I felt my eyes begin to turn back in my head, and You loosened the noose, just long enough to drive the impending blackness back a bit.
My eyes widened as You moved up my body until Your cock was before my face and You thrust it deep into my throat. Leaning back, Your right hand holding tight to the rope and cutting off my oxygen once again, You caressed my clitoris with Your thumb while Your fingers pumped my cunt. Just as we reached mutual climax, as my body jerked with multiple orgasms, I felt the blackness descend upon me and my body fell back onto the bed.I awoke and began coughing, but no sooner did the sound escape my lips than the noose tightened once again around my throat and You thrust Your cock deep into my cunt. You rode me then, rode me until You were spent, Your cum flooding my vagina, and removed Your flaccid penis from between my legs. Looking into my eyes, You realized that I had left You, that in Your fevered race for ecstasy, You had held too long and too tightly to the rope and strangled the life from Your lover. You puzzled over this, took in the sight of me – my unseeing eyes, my lips slightly parted, my body unmoving; how strange and yet sensuous the absence of rising and falling breast. Your cum oozed silently from the slit between my legs. You leaned close to my face, gazed deeply into my empty eyes, then pressed Your ear against my lips. No breath touched Your face.
You laid me gently on the bed, my unseeing eyes gazing up at the ceiling, my body still. My silent form serene on the silken coverlet caused You to become hard once again. No lover had ever gone this far for You, and it excited You to no end that You had found one who would. Straddling my head, You pressed Your palms down on my chest and searched for the spot You needed to pump to revive me. With the first compression of Your hands upon my breast, You thrust Your penis into my throat and synchronized Your resuscitative pumps with the thrust of Your cock in my mouth, thrusting, thrusting, faster, faster and when You felt my body arch up from the bed as I returned to life, You climaxed, Your cum spewing deep into my throat. You heard me choking on Your cock and quickly removed it from my mouth, gently moving me to the edge of the bed, where I lay coughing and choking, taking in great gasps of air and grasping at Your strong forearms. My eyes wide, I gazed up at You and asked in a rasping voice, “Was I dead?” You nodded and smoothed my hair from my face, then leaned forward to kiss my smiling lips. I had died for You and I had done it willingly and with complete and utter trust.
UPDATE: There are a total of 11 chapters in the Awakenings story, the first two chapters available here on my blog. To read more, please visit my author page on Smashwords. Also available on Amazon. - RdSL/July 2014
UPDATE: There are a total of 11 chapters in the Awakenings story, the first two chapters available here on my blog. To read more, please visit my author page on Smashwords. Also available on Amazon. - RdSL/July 2014
Awakenings - Part I
I like to be tied up, my legs spread as wide as they will bear, my ankles bound firmly to the bedposts, my arms stretched wide above my head, wrists tied tightly to the headboard. I love to feel my body stretched taut, helpless and bared to the world, the very epitome of vulnerability. I love to feel a lover’s hands on my body, touching me in places not normally touched. Hands upon my small waist as he sits astride me, fingers barely brushing my ribcage. Lips upon my breasts and a tongue darting out between them to tease my nipples. My cunt, exposed and spread wide by the mere position of my legs, fingers caressing my clitoris, sending waves of pleasure tingling through my body while I lay bound, helpless to whatever my lover has in store for me.More than I like to be tied up, I love to be strangled, to have the breath squeezed from my body. The sensation that courses through my body when I am strangled is like none other. As my throat is constricted, the complete feeling of vulnerability it presents excites me and a tingling sensation begins in my groin. As I begin to realize that my life now lies in the hands of another, I feel myself getting wet. Pressure on my carotid arteries causes tiny pinpoints of light to explode before my eyes. As hypoxia sets in, the small tingle in my pussy becomes more intense, and my juices really begin to flow as my body begins its struggle for air, the my body quivering and convulsing in its fight for life. I hear the small, strangled noises issuing forth from my throat, and this excites me even more.
Nothing gets me off quicker than a noose around my tender neck, pulled tightly by a lover in the throes of ecstasy. My back arches, my breasts heave as my lungs fight for the oxygen they so desperately need, and my body, spread almost to its limits, now attempts to bare itself open even wider in its struggle to live. Stars burst before my eyes as my brain begins to lose its battle for consciousness, and my body jerks, moving in tune with the thrusts of my lover’s cock as he pumps me. Just prior to losing consciousness, I shiver with a series of consecutive orgasms, and my lover groans with pleasure as he rides my body into unconsciousness.I have had many lovers, choosing them based upon how far they would go. Some outright refused my wishes, arguing that it is unladylike to bare oneself so completely, to give up control of one’s very life, to anyone, lover or otherwise. These men I dismissed, knowing full well that any orgasm I might have with them would not be genuine.I believe my body was created for pleasure, and even more so, to give pleasure to the bodies it so perfectly fits, those of men.Some men acquiesced, only to stop short of what I most desired, to balk at the thought of pulling tight the silk noose I had pulled over my head. These men then watched as I deftly looped the silken rope over a peg on the headboard and pulled it tight, beginning my dance with Death and moaning lustfully as I reached climax. My orgasm, in these situations, was always less than if control of the noose were in the hands of a man, for I like to feel as though I am at the mercy of another.
I took several lovers but was always left wanting. Then I met You. You were the lover of whom I had always dreamed. You would bind me as tightly as I desired, then spend hours teasing my body, bringing me to the very brink of climax only to slow Your caresses and back me away from that edge. Hours upon hours of this teasing foreplay, which sent me reeling, body and mind, in the throes of pleasure, driving me wild with lust and causing shudders to course through me each time You backed me away from the edge. I had never felt such pleasure at the hands of any of my previous lovers, not one of them could ever have pleased me the way You so deftly did.After several months of this teasing, sensual, on-the-edge sex, I finally expressed my desire for noose play to You. We dealt quickly with the instant hard-on this suggestion caused, and You confessed that one of Your greatest fantasies had always been to strangle a woman while You used her body. This is how we embarked upon a series of Lovemaking Sessions that You later referred to as Awakenings.
UPDATE: There are a total of 11 chapters in the Awakenings story, the first two chapters available here on my blog. To read more, please visit my author page on Smashwords. Also available on Amazon. - RdSL/July 2014
Nothing gets me off quicker than a noose around my tender neck, pulled tightly by a lover in the throes of ecstasy. My back arches, my breasts heave as my lungs fight for the oxygen they so desperately need, and my body, spread almost to its limits, now attempts to bare itself open even wider in its struggle to live. Stars burst before my eyes as my brain begins to lose its battle for consciousness, and my body jerks, moving in tune with the thrusts of my lover’s cock as he pumps me. Just prior to losing consciousness, I shiver with a series of consecutive orgasms, and my lover groans with pleasure as he rides my body into unconsciousness.I have had many lovers, choosing them based upon how far they would go. Some outright refused my wishes, arguing that it is unladylike to bare oneself so completely, to give up control of one’s very life, to anyone, lover or otherwise. These men I dismissed, knowing full well that any orgasm I might have with them would not be genuine.I believe my body was created for pleasure, and even more so, to give pleasure to the bodies it so perfectly fits, those of men.Some men acquiesced, only to stop short of what I most desired, to balk at the thought of pulling tight the silk noose I had pulled over my head. These men then watched as I deftly looped the silken rope over a peg on the headboard and pulled it tight, beginning my dance with Death and moaning lustfully as I reached climax. My orgasm, in these situations, was always less than if control of the noose were in the hands of a man, for I like to feel as though I am at the mercy of another.I took several lovers but was always left wanting. Then I met You. You were the lover of whom I had always dreamed. You would bind me as tightly as I desired, then spend hours teasing my body, bringing me to the very brink of climax only to slow Your caresses and back me away from that edge. Hours upon hours of this teasing foreplay, which sent me reeling, body and mind, in the throes of pleasure, driving me wild with lust and causing shudders to course through me each time You backed me away from the edge. I had never felt such pleasure at the hands of any of my previous lovers, not one of them could ever have pleased me the way You so deftly did.After several months of this teasing, sensual, on-the-edge sex, I finally expressed my desire for noose play to You. We dealt quickly with the instant hard-on this suggestion caused, and You confessed that one of Your greatest fantasies had always been to strangle a woman while You used her body. This is how we embarked upon a series of Lovemaking Sessions that You later referred to as Awakenings.
UPDATE: There are a total of 11 chapters in the Awakenings story, the first two chapters available here on my blog. To read more, please visit my author page on Smashwords. Also available on Amazon. - RdSL/July 2014
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