XPost: alt.sex.asphyx, soc.subculture.bondage-bdsm.femdom

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Keywords: hanging, snuff, Mf, Fm, oral, anal, death
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From: anon3a9c@nyx10.nyx.net (Damien)
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X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 31 Jan 2004 07:17:14 -0700
Subject: {ASSM} RP Joan: The Wages of Greed <*> {Damien,Matthew} (MF,hanging,snuff,NC)
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Date: Sat, 31 Jan 2004 17:10:05 -0500
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Listen up! Yes, I mean you!

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

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

Second, this story includes a description of somebody getting killed for
sexual pleasure - maybe the killer's pleasure, maybe the victim's. Either
way, this isn't milk and cookies. If you don't want to read about such
things, go away and read another message.

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

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

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

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
























Summary: This story includes descriptions of a man receiving oral sex while hanging, a woman being strangled during anal intercourse, a woman having
sex while hanging, and a man and a woman murdered by hanging.
Semi-consensual.

Joan, or the wages of greed
by 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 <<it's almost a shame to lose such a good looking husband, too bad he takes so little time to
be with me.>>

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, <<God that feels
good.
Hard to breathe like this.>> 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.
<<Ummm. More.>> 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. <<Too tight. Better be quick, I can't last long
like this. Please be quick and let me down, this is _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, <<don't do that,
it's getting worse>> 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!" <<No! Let me down! Got to breathe! Please, let me
breathe again! Can't last much longer like this.>>

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. <<No! I'm going to die! She's going to _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.
<<Everything's turning black... I feel wonderful... I'm going...>>

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 racketball 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... Allright." 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 everytime 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.


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

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

I'd also like to hear about it. Tell me what you like about it, and what
you
think could be improved. Remember, I don't get paid for writing these
stories. It takes me about 20 hours - the equivalent of half a week of full-time work - to write a 2500 word story. All I get in return is
feedback from the readers - and usually not enough of that.

If you like stories of this type, but didn't like this story, I'd like to
hear about that, too. Especially if you can articulate what was wrong with this story.

But if you think stories about people getting strangled or hanged, even
killed, during sex are icky and shouldn't exist, don't come whining to me.
Why did you read it if you don't like stories of that type?
--
A. P. Damien (a handle, not a name)

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