• (ASA Story) "Ali's First Times" by Ali & Lee

    From a425couple@21:1/5 to All on Fri Mar 30 18:52:22 2018
    XPost: alt.sex.asphix

    After a very slight provocation, I'll repost a story.
    IMHO, one of the best.

    Subject: (ASA Story) "Ali's First Times" by Ali & Lee

    This story was written by Ali and Lee Felman. I (Damien) am posting it
    by permission of the authors.

    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 is a work of <u>fiction</u>! No actual people or animals
    harmed in the writing of this story.
    Third, 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 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 a description of an accidental hanging and several auto-erotic hangings which the narrator barely survives. First
    one is NC, the others are Consensual.

    My First Times
    by Ali

    As part of my punishment for my auto-erotic hanging indiscretion Lee has
    doing at least three more of these first hand experiences. Tonight he suggested I write about how I found that hanging is my ultimate turn-on.

    I'm different from most of the women I've met in the hanging scene. The vast majority of these are either submissives or masochists who were introduced to erotic hanging after they had been in their scene for some time, by a lover or master. For the longest time I was the only one I
    could find who actually had been turned on by hanging before being introduced to the SM/BD scene.

    I had a fairly normal if slightly repressive childhood. I was blissfully unaware of the entire aspect of sex until it became the one only thing to talk about in school. Most of it misinformation. I tried masturbation seriously when I turned 13 but either I couldn't reach orgasm or the end result seemed somehow weak compared to what the rumor mill had said it

    At thirteen I was tall for my age. Not heavy or skinny. It would be a
    year before my bust would explode. (It's a 38 DD now and I'd settle for
    a 36C). My summer was spent in the community, at the local park and
    at my
    cousins' place. It was popular because of the large pool and pool house where we could all hang out.

    We were at the age when there was little acting out sexually at our
    A little flirting and a lot of giggling, but nothing overt. We did
    play a
    lot of games in and out of the pool. A lot of them were war games.
    Remember it was just after the Korean war and World War II was still on everyone's mind so we had all sorts of games.

    My defining moment came when I was a spy scoping out the enemy's headquarters
    in the poolhouse. Our headquarters were next door. I was skulking
    trying to hear what my three male cousins were planning.

    I remember every last detail. I was wearing a short sleeved button front blouse, short tight denim shorts and black low heeled slip-ons. I
    wore my
    hair cut short that summer due to the heat.

    The guys had all sorts of diagrams for their plans they'd been working on spread out on the table. When they went to the house to get a Coke I decided
    the time was right. They would never expect me to steal their plans. It just wasn't done.

    I heard them leave and waited a minute or so then snuck in. The
    table was
    the back and there was junk all over. The windows were covered by old venetian
    blinds which were partially closed. I got to the table and stated
    up all their papers when I heard the door slam.

    Not only were my three male cousins back but my two female cousins were
    them. I had been caught! One of them had seen me sneak in. I looked
    for a way out but there was only one door.

    They debated what to do with me. As a captured spy I couldn't be
    without some reciprocity and we had none of them as prisoners. My cousin Jean grabbed some rope from a pile and three of them held me while I
    and struggled as she tied my wrists behind my back. Totally
    flustered and
    frustrated I sat on a chair and watched them plan their attack. Water ballons. Dozens of them. My friends were in for a very wet attack.

    "What do we do with her?", Jean asked pointing to me. "We can't just
    her here. She'll escape. And there's no place to lock her up."

    "We could tie her ankles and gag her," Marsha suggested.

    I started to protest vehemently having no desire to spend the afternoon bound
    and gagged.

    "I have an idea", Billy said, "Lets have her stand on this stool".

    There was an 18" milking stool next to the window. Again I struggled but they
    muscled me up so I was standing on it. He pulled over a box so he was at the
    same height.

    Each of the venetian blinds had strong quarter inch line that was used to adjust their height. This ended in a loop so it could be easily grabbed. Before I knew it he had fitted the loop over my head and cinched it
    my throat.

    "There", he said in triumph. "She can't go anywhere. If she steps
    off the
    stool she'll hang herself. We can leave her alone now."

    Jean and Marsha both looked dubious and I tried to sway them with my
    promises to not run away, but the three boys convinced them I would
    be all
    right so off they went.

    I yelled and called after them but to no avail. Finally I just took
    my situation. My wrists were snugly tied behind me. The stool was
    The loop of cord had a little play in it but not much. I was in no
    if I just stood there. My only hope was that one of my team would
    find me
    and release me before they came back.

    As if in answer to my prayer, I heard the door push open.

    It was only Winter, my cousin's huge friendly white Samoyed. He was obviously
    looking for me since we were good friends and he heard me yelling. I
    to him and he came over smiling at me.

    Then disaster struck.

    As was his way, Winter jumped up for a cuddle...bouncing into me
    and knocking the stool and me over!

    I dropped a few inches before the loop of cord jerked tight around my
    sending a shock through my whole body. I found myself hanging by my neck
    good foot off the ground. The cord was thin and bit in deeply
    cutting off
    my breath. Terrified I tried desperately to get my wrists free but with
    results. I began to kick trying to get back on the stool, only
    in kicking it much farther from me and sending both my shoes flying off.
    The lack of oxygen quickly made me light headed and my vision started turning red. I realized later that I succumbed so quickly because the thinness of the cord had allowed it to bite down deeper and quicker and close off my breathing and circulation.

    To my amazement I felt a surge beginning in my groin as my lungs
    seemed to
    burst in agony. My last experience was a thundering orgasm and then... blackness.

    I awoke in the emergency room with a very sore throat, splitting
    bloody wrists and a nasty rope burn on my neck. Apparently it was Winter who
    saved me. His barking and howling brought one of the neighbors who found
    bound and hanging and cut me down. The doctor estimated that I couldn't have
    been hanging more than a few minutes since I hadn't lost bowel and

    My cousins were all in terrible trouble but I stayed overnight in the hospital. Late that night I thought again of the sensation of being
    and helpless hanging there and the remarkable orgasm that I knew I would have to experience again. I was hooked!

    I was forbidden to play with my cousins from then on and became a bit
    of a
    loner. The rope burn around me neck took weeks to heal so I watched TV
    read. It was during that time that I remember seeing an episode of Peter Gunn that desperately turned me on. It was called "The Chinese Hangman"
    there was a very pretty blond girl that Peter Gunn fell in love with.
    When he
    goes to her apartment he finds her hanged. He carefully puts the stool beneath her and finds her stockinged feet dangle a good 5 to 6 inches off its surface.

    My fantasies became entwined with hanging and bondage. I read "The Hunchback Of Notre Dame" and imagined what it would have been like to be Esmeralda bound and hanging on the public gallows, kicking for all the
    world to see, dying in agony, but secretly having the most immense orgasm ever experienced!

    I found an illustrated edition of "The Three Musketeteers" that had a beautiful lithograph of Lady DeWinter being hanged by her husband,
    bound hand and foot, breasts exposed, that almost made me faint.

    I hunted the libraries for information on public hangings and
    suicides but
    found little.

    I was sure I didn't want to die, but there had to be some way of
    that intense experience.

    I experimented with soft materials such as scarves and nylon
    stockings but
    all of them would leave a mark and I was terrified of actually hanging again.
    I tried choking myself but that just didn't work. There was something
    hanging the re bound and helpless, slowly strangling at the end of a rope that
    was inexplicable.

    I found a pair of play cufflinks in a toy store and hatched a plan. They would give just enough sensation of being bound but still allow me to get loose. I decided to try a "safe" hanging.

    I waited for my Mom to go shopping while Dad was at work. I took off
    my clothes and put on my pleated skirt and best rayon blouse. I didn't bother with underwear. Just the feeling of not wearing panties under my skirt made me tingle. I got a pair of my mothers good seamed nylons in a dark brown directly out of the box and put them on. They were a little
    large and wouldn't stay up, but they felt wonderful on my legs and the
    feel of the nylon rubbing back and forth made me feel sexy. Since all my mother wore were panty girdles which looked yucky, I used a couple of
    rubber bands as garters.

    I used my mothers makeup to inexpertly put on mascara, liner, and
    and brushed my blond hair out. Now I was dressed like that beautiful
    lady in the Peter Gunn episode.

    Next I got a hand towel from the bathroom and my mother's longest silk scarf.

    I took all these down to the basement where we had a bunch of exposed
    on the ceiling. I got a milk cartoon and turned it upside down below the thickest pipe. I carefully wrapped the towel around my neck holding it in place by tying the scarf around my neck behind my right ear. I pulled
    the scarf over the pipe until it felt snug around my neck and tied it
    Next I took the handcuffs and snapped them on one wrist. They had a
    key but there was also a button you could push to release them. I snapped them on the other wrist behind me.

    Now I stood there and began to feel the excitement grow. I was bound and noosed and about to be hanged. The large Chinese man was going to kick
    over the box and leave me dangling! I felt the glow in my groin and
    ever more excited.

    I moved to the end of the box and experimentally tried to reach the
    I got less than halfway before the scarf tightened to the point that
    it pushed my head over on the side. The feeling of it cutting off my circulation and breath was enough to start the wonderful glow coursing through me body. I experimented a half dozen times more feeling more and more sexy closer and closer to orgasm.

    I knew I wanted to step off the box, have my orgasm and step back on but
    I had to be careful not to kick the box away.

    With infinite care I stepped off with my right foot...then my left. I was hanging! All the sensations I longed for were there. The helplessness of being bound. The feeling of the noose cutting off my air and the pounding
    my pulse in my ears as my circulation was impaired. But more than that,
    the building orgasm threatening to tear me apart. I waited and waited, willing myself not to kick and push the box away, waiting for the orgasm
    crest. Finally, unfulfilled I stepped back up. My head was pounding
    and my
    breath hoarse. I felt like my head was a giant balloon, but I had come so close.

    I stood there a few more minutes until I felt close to normal and
    tried it
    again. This time I stayed on the noose longer and almost came, but the graying of my vision and my aching lungs forced me to step back up.

    Again I waited and fretted. Even with the towel I was sure I would
    end up
    with rope burns again. But I was so close I had to try one more time. I
    a deep breath and stepped off for the third time.

    This time it felt like I was almost floating, weightless. I could still
    feel the discomfort from the noose, my lungs aching for air, the pounding
    my ears, but as I hanged there I knew it would happen. And this time it did!
    I was filled with an overwhelming, crashing , thunderous orgasm, which
    delightfully into darkness.

    I awoke on the floor. I had passed out and hanged there until the scarf
    frayed and finally parted, sending me crashing into a pile of cardboard boxes filled with old linens. These had luckfully cushioned my fall.

    My head was aching and my throat was sore, but my entire body was
    tingling. I
    released my wrists from the handcuffs and found that I had cum so hard
    the front of my skirt was soaked. It was so wet I thought at first that I had peed yself.

    As my daze wore off I realized just how fortunate I was. If the scarf had not parted I would have strangled to death. I could just imagine my
    finding my hanging body wearing her good nylons, handcuffed and dangling
    by her scarf from that pipe.

    I immediately resolved never to do something stupid like that again. Unfortunately I was hooked. As bad as any drug addict!

    My resolve lasted for a long time. The desire was there but I buried it throwing myself into my school work.

    I still avidly went to see and movie or watched any TV show with a
    in it. And as I went through High School continued to read all I could about executions and suicide hanging.

    My resolve finally broke in my Junior year. My romances in High School
    were less than perfect. I was tall, almost 5' 8". In heels that put me
    at close to six feet. My breasts had grown so this made me popular.
    And I guess I should admit that most of the guys considered me very
    pretty and, yes, all the girls hated me. My boyfriend Rex was a jock and
    a jerk. We made out in his car and his hands were always all over me.
    But there was no thought of going all the way. So I was more and more frustrated. You see, ever since that day in the basement I had not been
    able to orgasm. Masturbation didn't do it. Even fantasizing of hanging
    brought me close. I tried some simple strangulation and asphyxia using plastic bags but nothing worked. Finally one Sunday afternoon I had had enough. I was distracted to the point that I couldn't study for my
    final. With my parents out of the house I decided to try another "safe" hanging.

    I had now seen dozens off hanging scenes in movies and read countless accounts of hangings in fact and fiction. Three books stood out in my
    as much for the lurid covers as their content. The first was "I'll Bury
    My Dead", by James Hadley Chase. It's cover featured a beautiful brunette from the bust up hanged overa door by a red scarf. The second was "The
    of Dr. Deadcert", by Joan Fleming. This featured another lovely brunette,
    in an empire waisted nightgown being hanged by a man with a rope.
    The last was the best. It was called "Turn Blue You Murderers" by Michael Brett and on its cover was a photo of a pretty nude girl hanging from a clothes bar in a closet by a belt.

    The last was the basis of my current fantasy. This time I didn't bother
    clothes but stripped completely nude. I was still drawn to a pair of stockings from my first time and had secreted away a box of my
    mothers old
    black seamed stockings before she threw them out, since now we only wore pantyhose. I knew that one day I would want to put them on but also knew that rubber bands and panty girdles were not going to work, so I had
    a black garter belt at a thrift store for a quarter and this was hidden
    away too.

    Putting on the garter belt was easy. Getting the black seamed stockings
    on so the seams were relatively straight was a real problem. This was obviously a learned skill. Still after a few tries they were on and
    snugly gartered. I admired myself in the mirror. They were old fashioned
    but felt so different from pantyhose and so sexy.

    This time I was better prepared. I had made a space in my closet and
    instead of a box or stool I had made a pile of books, three of them.
    They each were very thick and the pile was a good 8 to 10 inches tall.

    My first experience had taught me that the towel was the right padding
    I had hanged myself and suffered no friction burns on my neck so I used
    again. But this time, instead of a scarf I used the thick belt from my velour robe.

    So there I was, ready to hang myself in my closet wearing nothing but a garter belt and stockings and it dawned on me that I hadn't thought about how to bind my wrists. I solved this with the canvass belt from my old
    scout uniform (Only reason I joined the scouts was to learn how to tie a hangman's noose but it wasn't taught in our knot class. I had to
    learn for

    I started by standing on the books and assuring they were sturdy. By perching on my stockinged toes the back of my neck was just a little
    the clothes bar. I slipped the velour belt around my throat and over the bar then back down and tied it snugly in front. I was now cinched up
    enough that I couldn't rest on my heels at all. I put my wrists behind me and looped the closed belt around them taking up the slack with one hand while holding it with the other. I got it fairly tight. Just tight enough for the sensation but reasonably sure I could wiggle free. Then I took stock.

    I had closed the door to the closet and turned on the light. Across from
    me was my full length door mirror. The image I saw was a lovely blond
    with full breasts, slim waist, and long legs, clad in a garter belt and black seamed nylons, wrists bound behind her, up on her toes noosed
    to the
    clothes bar.

    I immediately felt my orgasm begin to build. As it began to crest I slid
    my toes off the books so they pointed down on either side. The belt gave
    a little so I dropped an inch or so, but I was definitely hanging a good
    six inches off the floor. All the familiar sensations cascaded in and I
    was rewarded with a massive rgasm that shook me to the core.

    Utterly spent I stepped back on the books. I was shocked I couldn't have been hanging for more than a few seconds and I had had a massive orgasm.

    Back on the books the belt had loosened and I was relatively comfortable again.

    I stood there on my toes and took stock again. Was it that easy?

    I resolved to wait a few minutes and try it again.

    This time, as I slid off the books I watched myself in the mirror. The
    my neck lengthened, the strain the noose put on my upper shoulders.
    How hard my nipples were. The gleam of cum on my pubic hairs and how
    long and sexy my legs looked in those garters and black nylons.

    It took much longer this time. By the time the orgasm came I was light headed, but it was the equal of the first. I stepped back up on the
    books and breathed deep.

    This whole thing had taken less than an hour from the time I decided to
    it. And the orgasms were wonderful!

    A part of me said that two was enough but a stronger part wanted at least one more. I waited a few minutes for my head to clear and stepped off

    I watched myself closely for as long as I could. The orgasm was even
    to build the third time and I felt that familiar floating sensation along with the desperate need to catch my breath. As my vision started to
    dim finally I had a thundering orgasm, far more powerful than either of
    the first two.

    Languidly I brought my toes back up on the books and started to take
    the pressure off my now very sore and abused neck when there was a sudden loud cracking noise.

    The next thing I knew I came crashing forward and was sideways on the
    floor. The clothes bar had pulled away from all its supports. It was fortunate that I hadn't latched the closet door or else I would have smashed into the mirror and probably ended up with thousands of cuts, not
    to mention brain damage. As it was, I had a very sore shoulder and hip
    from where I hit. My head hurt. My throat was sore, but that electric
    tingle still coursed through my body.

    I knew for sure that I would have to hang again if I wanted that intense
    an orgasm again. I made plans for my next hanging when my parents would
    be out of town next week.

    During the week I found a store that had all sorts of police gear and
    bought an expensive pair of handcuffs. The owner looked at me with a leer but I ignored him and paid cash.

    Next I decided to find the perfect rope because this time I knew I would have to try an actual hangman's noose. Just the thought of it cinching around my neck made my nipples hard.

    The yellow pages, under rope, indicated that there was a store in the
    marina that specialized in all forms of lines, ropes and hawsers. There
    was the first time I found the beautiful thick yacht braid. It took most
    all my available cash but I bought 20 feet of one inch soft braid. The
    at the store was kind enough to wrap the ends for me. I was as ready as
    any prospective hanging victim could be.

    Finally I stopped at our local hardware store and bought a screw-in hook. The kind that's used to hang plants. The man there showed me how to
    use a
    screwdriver to muscle it in after it was started.

    I had what I thought was the perfect plan. I would tie the rope to the
    hook using a slip knot (the old girlscout training again) and when I had
    enough, jerk it loose.

    All week I practiced tying slip knots and jerking them free. I was sure
    I had it down.

    That weekend I passed up a visit of my aunt. And as soon as I was sure my parent s were long gone began my preparations in earnest.

    First I went down to the basement and, standing on the three legged stool
    I would use for my hanging, screwed the hook into an overhead beam.
    Next I took a long bath and brushed my hair carefully, tying it in a pony tail behind me so there was no chance a stray strand would foul the
    I indulged myself in a full and long makeup session topping it off with a sinfully Marilyn Monroe red lipstick.

    Now I was completely nude and it was time to don my lingerie. I was
    dubious of my garterbelt. It was beginning to see better days. I
    promised myself that I would treat myself to a new an sexier one soon.
    Then on with those silky smooth black seamed nylons. I had been
    and it only took me two tries to get the seams straight.

    Now I got all my goodies together and retired to the basement for some serious rope dancing. I was incredibly excited. For the first time I
    kick and struggle as much as I wanted and not worry about tipping
    over the
    stool because I wouldn't be needing it.

    I started by tying the one inch yacht braid into a traditional thirteen
    turn hangman's noose. By all rights I should have lubricated the rope
    but I wasn't going to use a drop so and wasn't interested in it cinching down too quickly. Next I put an old full length mirror across from me
    so I
    could have the thrill of watch ing myself hang.

    Before mounting the stool I snapped the handcuffs on my left wrist,
    to make sure the key was in the lock. The spare key I tucked into the
    of my garter belt behind me.

    I climbed up on the stool and looped the rope over the hook about 18
    inches above me. Then I had the most incredibly exciting time dropping
    the noose over my head and cinching it down. I had read a number of conflicting articles on where the knot should be placed but to me it sounded like behind the right ear was correct.

    I grasped the free end and took up the slack. The noose was very
    heavy and
    as it tightened I felt it tip my head to the left. Once I had all the
    slack out I debated standing on my toes. I decided it was the only way I could be sure there would be virtually no drop so I pulled myself up on tiptoe. Satisfied that I could go no further I tied the rope to the hook with a slip knot, drawing the loop down so it wouldn't take more than a
    six inch tug to loosen it.

    Taking a deep shuddering breath I put my wrists behind me and snapped the handcuffs on my wrists. The first thing I did was check the keys and be sure I could get to them. Then I felt behind me and grabbed the rope.
    This firmly in hand I was ready.

    I knew I was taking quite a chance using a hangman's noose. There was the chance that it would tighten too tightly and even though I could get the rope to release, it could strangle me before I could get my hands free
    and loosen it. My experiments gave me confidence that this wouldn't
    I had fashioned the knot so it wouldn't cinch down and this gave me a measure of safety.

    Now I was ready. Again I looked at the pretty girl in the mirror, nude
    but for her black garter belt and stockings, noosed and ready for
    execution. My nipples were so hard they felt like they would burst and I could feel the fluids leaking from my vagina.

    I took a deep breath and kicked the stool away.

    Immediately I realized I had made a serious mistake. In my hurry I had forgot the padding for my neck! As the noose bit in I realized to my
    dismay that I would have a serious rope burn to contend with. I
    considered releasing myself right then but realized that the worst has already been done so I might as well enjoy the ride.

    I felt weightless and free as I kicked on the rope. I had never been able
    to dance and spin the way I dangled that day. I scissored my legs then dropped them straight down, luxuriating in the knowledge that my
    stockinged toes twisted a good 18" off the floor.

    As my breath gave out and my pulse started to pound in my ears I felt my orgasm begin to rise. I was a helpless bound and naked slut dangling on
    the gallows for all the world to see, naked and cumming, unashamed of her agony and suffering. Then a huge orgasm ripped through me and I dangled limply.

    Utterly spent I grasped the rope firmly with both hands and tugged.
    Nothing! No give whatsoever!! This was impossible. I had tied and
    released the slip knot 20 times over the last week.

    As I began to gray out I kicked desperately and tugged with all my might
    on the rope but to no avail. I felt the tears on my cheeks and felt the noose
    push my head further and further to the left as it tightened down choking the last ebb of life from my desperately kicking body. Finally my hands lost strength and my last thought, as everything turned red, was why?

    Again I awoke on the floor. This time my head pounded so badly I
    thought it would split. I could barely breath! Then I realized this was because the noose was still tightly cinched around my throat. For a short while I desperately fought to get my wrists free. Then I remembered the
    key and thankfully found it still in the lock. It took me six attempts to turn it. Something I had done first time out previously.

    My wrists free I tore the noose loose and sat there sobbing. I was lying
    in a pool of my own fluids. I had no idea how long I hanged but it was
    enough to lose control. I looked up at the hook. That was what had saved
    My weight kicking and struggling had finally loosed it and had pulled it from the beam. I guess I hadn't tightened it, thank God. as much as I thought.

    I dazedly checked the slipknot. There had just been too much weight on it and I wasn't strong enough to pull it through. That mistake had almost killed me!

    I dragged my self to the mirror. My entire left side. where I fell was sore. But that wasn't the worst part. My face looked like I had a
    I later found out that the slow strangulation from the noose had burst
    100's of blood vessels in the skin. My eyes were horribly bloodshot.
    Worst of all I had a bright red rope burn one inch wide all around my
    On top of that I had run my beautiful black nylons in a dozen places completely ruining them.

    A week or two of scarves, heavy makeup, sunglasses and anything else I
    could do to hide myself followed. I forswore hangings until I could make them safe.

    I read voraciously and came across the phenomena of auto-erotic asphyxia
    and realized that this was close to my obsession. I also realized that psychology couldn't be right because it supposedly only happened in men
    and boys and transvestites at that.

    In college I took abnormal psych classes and researched every item on
    erotic hanging and auto erotic asphyxia in the vast library archives. Finally I found three references to women who had been auto-erotic
    hanging victims. I was not alone!

    I have other experiences, prior to meeting Lee, which may be of interest
    but this is long enough as is, so they will wait for another time.


    Did you like this story? You can find more at
    A. P. Damien (a handle, not a name)

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