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 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."