(ASA Story) Joan, or the Wages of Greed, by A. P. Damien
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All on Sun Jun 23 19:23:42 2019
XPost: alt.sex.asphix, soc.subculture.bondage-bdsm
Joan, or the Wages of Greed
A. P. Damien
Joan's been married to Matthew for several years. He's a good provider,
but their lovemaking has gotten into a rut.
One day he mentions that he likes to feel helpless. This adds some zest
to their sex, as she ties him up and sometimes spanks him over her lap, explaining to him why she is punishing him. Then she finds out by
accident that he likes being strangled. She ties him up on the 4-poster
bed and tells him how she's going to punish him for his misdeeds. Then
she straddles him and wraps the belt from his terrycloth bathrobe around
his neck. She slowly rides up and down his cock, gradually pulling the
belt tighter. As she starts to come, she pulls the belt very tight. He
thrashes around, giving her even better sensations, then comes violently
just before he loses consciousness.
Part of the problem with their relationship is the long hours he works.
He's been building up a business and working 10-16 hours a day. He's
frequently too tired for sex — or they just manage a quicky and he falls asleep without any pillow talk afterward.
One day he comes home, tells her his partnership may be sold out to a
major corporation for big bucks. She realizes that there might be
certain advantages to being a rich widow, and starts laying plans.
A couple of months later, the sale is finally completed. Matthew is now
a multi-millionaire and could retire, but Joan knows he's a workaholic
and will probably start up another business soon. But for a few days he actually has some time and energy. He takes her out to dinner at a very
good restaurant, they split a bottle of Taittinger's and get quite giggly.
When they get home, she tells him, "Honey, I've planned something
special for you, too. Come down to the rumpus room with me."
When they get there, Matthew finds new boxer shorts and pajamas laid out
on the sofa. The shorts are so sheer they are almost transparent; the
pjs are made of thin, very soft silk and have a print pattern showing
female couples cavorting. He also sees a rope with a noose dangling over
a ceiling beam, and a two step library stool(*). He eyes the noose
anxiously and gives her a questioning look. (*) it rolls freely with no
weight, but locks in place when you stand on it.
"I think you're going to enjoy this," she reassures him.
She tells him to change into the shorts and pjs she bought him for the occasion. She takes off her clothes and changes into a black lace
push-up bra that doesn't quite cover her nipples, lacy black panties
with a hole in the crotch, and sheer black stockings. She also clasps a
black silk collar around her neck.
She poses for him, letting him enjoy the naughtiness of her new
undergarments; she also admires his build under the pjs, thinking <>
She kisses him and fondles him, enjoying the feel of his skin under the
silk, and encourages him to fondle her breasts and nuzzle her. After
awhile he's really horny and she's starting to feel somewhat aroused, too.
Then she fits the noose around his neck and adjusts the knot behind his
left ear. She pulls the knot snug around his neck. Then she tells him to
climb onto the library stool.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asks nervously.
"You like it when I blow you, right?" she asks.
He nods nervously.
"And you really enjoy being strangled."
He nods again, a little more definitely.
"Well, strangling you with a cord takes both hands, and I use at least
one hand blowing you. This way, your weight will provide the pressure
and I'll able to concentrate on pleasing you with my mouth and hands."
Joan's voice deepens, and takes on a commanding tone. "Besides, you've
been exploiting the workers in your business and taking advantage of the inability of your customers to find a lower price anywhere else! I'm
going to punish you for your greed. Now... get up on that stool!"
Matthew climbs up on the stool, his erection sticking out of the pjs and pointing at least 45 degrees upward. Joan hands him two belts and tells
him to strap his legs together at ankles and knees. At her command, he
takes the free end of the rope and pulls until getting enough breath
takes a little effort but can be done with his feet flat, then wraps the
end around the nearby cleat.
She pulls the pjs down over the knee strap, leaving him looking like
they're pulled down around his knees but even sillier as the pjs are
folded over the strap and hang almost to his ankles. She takes his penis
in one hand. She looks at it; the base is level with her cheekbones. She
bends it down until he starts to wince, then lets it up a little,
finding that she can just get the tip into her mouth.
She smiles at him, "You'll have to bend your knees a little, dear."
"But..."
"Do you want a super-quickie, or do you want something to remember? Now
stoop!"
Matthew bends his knees and the noose begins to tighten around his neck.
His breathing becomes raspy and his neck starts to redden.
Joan mouths his cockhead lightly. Then she cradles his balls with her
other hand and slowly licks the bottom of his cock from the base to the
tip. His breathing becomes even more irregular, and his cock strains
upward even harder, but his crotch is now low enough she can reach all
of it without straining. He moans, thinking, <> She kisses the side of
his cock, pressing her lips against it and applying a slight suction,
then lightly runs her lips up and down the side a few times, then does
the same to the other side. <> Encouraged by his moans, she does this a
few more times. He moans more, tries to stand up so get more breath as
he pants harder.
She grabs his hips and pulls downward. "Down," she reminds him. He
crouches down again, gasping and rasping. She takes his balls into her
mouth and gently washes them with her lips and tongue, wrapping her
right hand around his erect cock. He gets more excited, pants harder,
tries to stand up straight for more breath. She sucks harder on the sack
as a reminder; he gives a muffled yelp and crouches again.
She moves back to his cock, holding his balls in her left hand as a
reminder to keep his knees bent. She envelopes the head with her lips,
then slowly slides all the way to the base, working her tongue against
the underside, then back up to the head. She repeats this about 10
times, then stops.
"Why'd you stop?" he wheezes.
"Do you want to come?"
"Oh...yes," he gasps out.
"Then you have to do just what I say. But first,..."
She grabs another belt and straps his hands to his sides, then ties the
belt to his scrotum with another cord to discourage pulling at it.
"Now, Step off the stool and kick it away..." (he hesitates) She deepens
her voice: "Remember you're being punished for your greed. Step off now!"
He steps off, and the noose tightens around his neck, pulling his head
to one side. His breath now comes in irregular, rattling rasps, and his
face starts to redden. He tries to find some place to stand, but there
isn't any. He forgot to kick the stool away, but his kicking knocks it
out of reach. <scary>> Each jerk of his legs causes the knot to slip a
little farther toward the back of his neck and makes it harder to
breathe, <> but he finds he can't stop trying for nonexistent footing.
He's now completely at Joan's mercy, which makes him more excited. But
the noose is very tight; he's not 100% sure he likes this. His legs
continue to jerk, searching for any support at all.
Hanging from the noose like that, Matthew is now low enough that Joan
can easily get her mouth around cock. She uses her left arm to keep his
knees out of the way as she continues sucking on him, her right hand
holding the base of his penis while her mouth slides slowly up and down
the shaft. The combination of sensations and fear make him even more
excited; he's now sure he'll come in time.
His kicking has tightened the noose so that his breathing comes in
snores and gasps. His chest muscles and diaphragm heave, but he can't
get enough air, especially with his heart working overtime on his sexual excitement.
His kicks become more frantic and the knot slides further toward the
back of his neck. Snore, wheeze, gurgle, gurgle. "Nnnng! Nnnnt mmmm
dnnng!" <>
She continues working on his cock, sliding her mouth rapidly back and
forth over the area where the head and shaft meet while her tongue
flutters rapidly along the underside. Her right hand moves up and down
the shaft, adding to his sensations.
Suddenly, she stops. He tries to ask why, but nothing comes out.
She tells him, "The real reason for this is I've decided to be a rich
widow. You're never home, and you never talk about anything but your
stupid business. But I'm going to entertain you while you die!"
He struggles harder. <really hang me! Noose too tight! Hard to breathe.
Reach up and grab the rope. Oh, no! My hands are strapped!>>
Joan slides her mouth rapidly up and down Matthew's shaft, pressing her
tongue against the underside of the head as she moves over it. As her
mouth moves up and down, her hand twists his cock, producing a spiral
motion of her lips on his penis.
In less than a minute the knot is all the way to the back of his neck;
the gurgles stop and his struggles become weaker. His cock swells and he
comes explosively in Joan's mouth, spurt after spurt filling her mouth
with his semen. He's now so absorbed by the sensations in his lower body
that he barely notices the ache in his chest and the terrible pressure
on his neck. Before he finishes coming, his vision narrows until all he
can see is Joan's head bobbing up and down on his penis. <>
He goes limp. His penis rises again in a final erection even harder than
ever before. His mouth is wide with his final efforts to gasp for air,
his tongue is stuck way out, and his eyes bulge. Joan savors his cum for
a moment, then swallows it; Matthew had never eaten spicy foods, and he
always tasted good in her mouth. She backs off and watches as his final convulsions shake his body, his arms pulling hard at the strap around
his balls and his legs moving spasmodically up and down. She takes a
moment to look up at the body swinging sightless with the noose around
its neck, then she removes the strap from his arms to make it look like
he hanged himself. She remembers how strongly he came at the end, and
wonders what it felt like.
Suddenly her own breath is choked off — someone is twisting her collar.
"I heard what you told Matthew. That's murder for profit, and they fry
you for it in this state. How would you like to vibrate and buzz with a
few thousand volts of juice?" (She tries to shake her head.) "Well, I'll
give you an alternative. You can die tonight the same way Matthew did."
Joan recognizes that deep, melodious voice. It's Matthew's partner,
Damien. He's 8" taller than Matthew, over a foot taller than Joan. He
also works out at the local gym and plays racquetball three days a week.
She's seen him on a few joint trips to the beach: a real hunk, even
better looking than Matthew.
Joan realizes she's in bad trouble. Damien is big, strong, in great
condition, and well coordinated. She'd have trouble fighting him off
under the best conditions. And with him behind her, twisting her collar,
it's hopeless. She thinks about it. Matthew looked like he'd gotten more pleasure than pain out of it; on the other hand, she'd been helping with
the pleasure part.
He continues, "One more condition: I get to enjoy you while you die.
With Matthew dead, you're no longer his wife, so I won't be infringing
on him in any way." He loosens his grip on her collar a little so that
she can breathe a little, rasping as she forces the air in and out of
her lungs.
She manages to turn her head enough to see him. Damien must have come
straight from his post-workout shower and stretches; he's dressed in
shorts and a leotard, his trim musculature outlined by the tight-fitting clothes. He's very attractive, and she's very aware of his fresh but
still male smell, especially as she's still turned on from working on
Matthew.
She manages to nod her head and wheeze out, "Yes, go ahead. Take me."
He reaches through the hole in her lacy panties with his free hand and
rubs her clit. Already aroused from playing with Matthew, she gasps in pleasure, then quickly tries to catch up on her breathing. Damien pushes
a finger into her cunt, and she struggles as her pleasure reactions
compete with her need for air. Then he grasps her panties by the hole,
twists and pulls, ripping the hole open enough to expose the bottom part
of her ass.
Shocked, she gasps, "What the..."?
"Don't worry, you won't be wearing them again anyway."
He frog-marches her, coughing and rasping, over to the open closet where
he grabs a tube of KY with his other hand.
"Matthew told me once how much you like this. Bend over; you can use a
shelf for support."
Joan's heart starts racing even faster as she realizes what he intends.
She enjoyed doing this with Matthew, but is out of practice — they never found a position that would let her strangle him with him in her ass.
She shivers again, not sure whether it's anticipation or fear. She feels
the cool jelly being spread between her ass cheeks, then a finger slowly presses into her asshole. A few seconds later, a second finger joins it, spreading the jelly around inside her sphincter. She bends over and
grabs a shelf, bracing her arms against it and planting her feet solidly
on the floor.
She feels his cock press against her tight little hole and presses back
against him. As she expected, she has some trouble taking him in, but he
pauses and reaches around with one hand to feel her clit again. Her
heart speeds up and she tries to breathe harder, but the collar is still
tight around her neck. She feels a thrill of fear and gets even more
excited.
After a little while of this, she becomes rather light-headed and
relaxed. Damien is able to slowly push his way into her asshole. He
seems to notice that her legs are growing weak, because he eases up
slightly on her collar before starting to move in and out of her ass.
Now that she's managed to open to him, she's enjoying the feeling of
being filled up by Damien's cock, and the sliding motion in and out of
her hole feels just as good as she remembers it being with Matthew. Her excitement mounts; this is going to be her last and best fuck and she's
going to find out what made Matthew come when he died.
Damien's pleasure starts to build. As he feels the tension build in his
groin, he starts to slowly tighten Joan's collar again. Before her
breath is completely cut off, she manages to wheeze out "You promised!"
"Promised what?" (He loosens her collar slightly)
"I'd get to die the same way." (It comes out as a whisper)
"So?"
"Hang me!"
"You sure? The way you feel, I'd guess you're about a minute from coming
and losing consciousness at about the same time. Switching over will
probably cost you another couple of minutes of being choked. You'll also
find the noose rather less comfortable than this collar."
"I'm sure. Hang me!"
"Well... All right." His voice changes to a growl quite unlike his
previous melodious bass. "But make sure you follow my instructions
exactly; you'll be sorry if you don't."
Damien withdraws from her ass and loosens her collar a little to give
her breath for working, letting her gurgling snores change back to rasps
and wheezes. At his command, Joan unties the rope from the cleat,
letting the body drop to the floor. She takes the noose from the body's
neck and puts it around her own.
They climb the library stool together. As she reaches the top, Damien
has her turn around to face him while he keeps his grip on her collar. Following his instructions, she stands on the top with her feet as far
apart as possible on the stool, adjusts the rope so the noose just
starts biting into her neck, and ties it back to the cleat.
"Now," he growls, "I'm going to need both hands for a moment. When I let
go, you may have two free breaths, no more. Make the most of them, and
remember what I told you!"
He lets go of the collar, and she draws a fast, gasping breath then
blows it out slowly while he straps her wrists behind her back, so
tightly that she starts to gasp from the pain, but remembers what he
said and manages to hide it in the long inhalation that follows.
While she savors that one long breath, he puts his hands under her ass
and boosts her up until her crotch is even with his waist. "Hold on with
your legs," he tells her. She grabs on, holding her breath, but the
demand from her lungs forces her to start letting it go; she starts to
panic, afraid of what he'll do if she takes a third breath. Partway
through, he shifts one hand to her collar and twists it, reducing her
back to rasps and wheezes.
"Gotcha," Damien snarls, "and you should be glad you're not going to
find out the alternative." His voice returns to it's normal melodious
tone, "Now start sliding down, slowly" He guides her with one hand on
her collar and the other under her ass until his cockhead slides into
her cunt, then tells her to keep sliding down.
She gasps in pleasure as his cock fills her cunt, then resumes breathing
as best she can. He tells her to lock her legs tightly around his hips,
removes his hand under her ass, and uses it to make sure the knot is
directly behind her head and no hair is inside.
"Well, Joan, ready or not..." He steps down one step and the noose
tightens around her neck. He lets go of her collar, but there's no
improvement — it's even worse than before. She acquires a new fear to
add to the knowledge of her coming death: that the pain in her neck and
chest will get worse. But there's a tingling between her legs that
competes with the fear.
She pushes herself up desperately with her thigh muscles and manages to
rise until only his cockhead is in her; the noose loosens slightly, but
not much: rasp, snore, rasp, snore; it doesn't slide easily in that
direction. She opens her mouth wide and stretches for air, but that's no improvement either. Then he grabs her shoulders with both hands and
pushes her back down on his cock; she feels about half of it slide into
her, and the noose tightens again. The rope is also pulling her body
against him and she feels her erect nipples rub against his chest as she
slides up and down.
He allows this to continue for a minute or so: she rises as far as she
can and gets a little air, then he pushes her back down. Then she
notices that each cycle ends with the noose a little tighter. She
realizes that he'd been standing on the balls of his feet and is slowly settling back onto his heels — also that at this pressure she can't keep
up with her body's demand for air,. She manages to gasp out, "chest
hurts... scared... noose...tight...can't...breathe."
He smiles, "Good. It gets worse from here."
"Please...one more...deep breath..."
"No joy, Joanie." He pauses, then chuckles, "You asked to be hanged, and
that means no support at all. Let go with your legs."
"No...Please..." "I can make you let go, but you won't like it!"
She lets go and the noose jerks even tighter around her neck. Her breath
now comes in desperate gurgles, when she can force any air at all, and
her fear turns to terror as she realizes that her neck muscles are
rapidly getting tired keeping even that tiny airway open.
She keeps trying to find some support, reaching with one foot, then the
other, even though she knows there's nothing within reach. But each try
just pulls the noose tighter. She's dancing on nothing as she hangs.
Damien feels her motions rubbing her cunt up and down his cock and
twisting from side to side as her legs kick. The motion also presses her nipples alternately into his chest. He struggles to hold back, waiting
for the end.
Joan's neck muscles soon give out and she quickly discovers that there's
a big difference between not getting enough air and not getting any air.
She panics and loses control, kicking frantically for a foothold and
trying to wrap her legs around Damien's body — anything to ease the
pressure that's building up in her chest and head. But every time she
starts to get her legs around him, he just bats them away. As she
struggles, she feels herself moving a fraction of an inch up and down
his cock and her very erect nipples rubbing against him.
The tingling in her groin is growing uncontrollably, her ears are
ringing, and her head feels like it a balloon being blown up to the
bursting point. Her heart pounds and her chest feels like it's about to
burst. She feels wonderful and terrified at the same time — worse than
the scariest roller coaster she's ever ridden, and she knows that this
is her last ride.
Her struggles grow weaker, and she can't think coherently any more. She
kicks feebly at the air. The she feels his hand on her sex and his
finger tickles her clitoris. She comes, an enormous, shaking orgasm that
forces her head back and clamps her cunt tightly around Damien's cock.
Her vision starts to get red, then black around the edges.
She hears Damien murmur "Bye, bye, Joanie" in her ear, then everything
fades away.
Damien feels Joan's cunt contract on his cock as she comes. As her
struggles grow weak, he resumes thrusting in her. Then her body
convulses in death, her cunt growing even tighter and her back arching
and legs straightening and waving around, sending him over the edge; he
comes into her cunt as she dies, filling it with the best come he's ever
felt.
After a few seconds, he withdraws from her body, steps back and looks at
it twisting slowly from side to side. He can't resist adding, "I hope it
was good for you, too. By the way, I've seen Matthew's will. If you die
within 30 days of him, it's as if you died first and his money goes to
me. But that doesn't matter to you anymore!"
He looks around the room, at Matthew lying there crumpled on the floor,
with his dead cock sticking out of those sheer boxers, and his silly pjs tangled around his legs. He also admires Joan's body in its sheer
stockings, lacy bra, and torn lacy panties as it sways to and fro next
to the stool, its mouth wide open and eyes staring.
A lovely scene.
Damien goes into the bathroom and showers to clean himself off. He comes
out, dresses, gathers up his things, leaves, and drives home, humming to himself and thinking of the great time he had and the money he'll get to
enjoy.
--- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
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