From: anon3a9c@nyx10.cs.du.edu (Damien)
Subject: AR: Violent Dreams #3 [1/1] Mf, Fm, hanging, snuff
Keywords: hanging, snuff, death
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.asphyx,alt.sex.stories.bondage,alt.sex.stories
NOTE: Don't write asking for stories you missed. I'm "going out of business" early this month and won't respond after that. See the "Summary of the hanging story archive" article for instructions on getting them from Deja News.
This story is fiction. Any resemblance to actual individuals, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Posted by permission of the author.
This story is for the erotic enjoyment of open-minded adults who
might enjoy reading it. If you are under the age of 18, don't read
this -- read some less explicit story.
This story contains extremely strong hardcore stuff, including
graphic depictions of sex and murder. Don't read any further if this
bothers you.
This story does not represent any desire on my part to do any of the
illegal acts I described. I just like to write and read about such
things.
* * * WARNING! * * *
[The following warning cribbed from one of Sarge's]
Don't try this at home. And if you _think_ you'd like to experiment
with asphyxia as a sex aid, at least read the alt.sex.bondage FAQ and
Ol Sarge's Breath Control FAQ first!!!
DO NOT, DO NOT try this kind of activity by yourself!! About 200 people
DIE in America each year doing this sort of thing -- people who had no
idea of how dangerous this activity is, and who had no intention of
dying. People who took very careful precautions, but died regardless.
* * * WARNING! * * *
Note: Flames cheerfully ignored. Other stories about breath
control/asphyxia wanted.
Violent Dreams #3
by Ed
these come from my actual dreams
no admittance under 18.
I'm in a big victorian bed, feather quilt, ornate dark-oak headboard. I'm
not sure how I got there, but it feels not unlike a dracula movie- dark
and stormy night, I'm an unwitting traveller. A painfully skinny young
woman is aproaching me, wearing bed clothes, pale off-white linen shift,
mop-cap covering dirty blonde hair, cropped short. Her eyes are sunken
into her head, her mouth seems always ready to leap into a wide, evil,
toothy grin. In my dream I think she's lovely. She's telling me how it
lubricates her labia to play sex-games where she is tied up. I'm
listening avidly. She says, tomorrow, she wants to play her favorite
game. "I want you to 'ang me!" and for the first time I realize she's
british, cockney at that. She's rubbing my thighs as she describes ropes
and knots, trapdoors, spactators licking their lips. Her eyes glisten.
She reaches in my pants and starts to illustrate her hanging on my dick.
She pulls on it to lengthen it, and it works. She circles the base with
her fist and tells me I'll tie her feet, and she'll stand at attention
like a soldier. She draws a circle around the head of my cock with one
finger and describes the noose. Then all at once I've torn off her shift.
She is quite bony, her ribs sticking out. I want her. Her breasts are
the size of oranges and the nipples are a sudden, suprizing darkness,
cone-shaped and almost hardened.
now she's naked, on top of me, facing up, grinding her ass into my lower abdomen, taking my dick/victim and suffocating it in her cunt. I'm touching her back and her skin, like a smoker's, has a slight looseness, hanging to her body like an animal's hide. The flesh is smooth, luscious, soapy. Knowing how she'll want me to, I grab her neck from behind while she rides me, holding her firmly, throttling her. Her whole body shivers violently, and though it would look like she were trying to escape, she's forcing her neck toward and into my grasp, as she rolls her pelvis, trying to swallow more penis than there is. I palpably feel her LOVE, her ADORATION of strangulation, and she adores ME, glowing in the light of her torturer.
She's mounting the gallows now. I guess it's the next day. There's a
military snare drum playing a death march. She marches with a playful
seriousness, smirking at the rigidness of her own gait, a little Napoleon.
We are watched by teeming, naked youth, sitting on their haunches, all
with grins like hers, but even more wild. Slowly I do what she's told me
to do:
When she's in position over the trap door, I remove her shift.
I bind her ankles with a cruel, stout cord.
Likewise her hands, behind her.
She stands at attention, a look on her face aping "a far, far better thing
I do..."
I blindfold her with a thin strip of white cloth.
A noose drops from out of nowhere, and I adjust it about her delicate
little neck.
I notice that her hips have begun to rock -- she is masterbating, [!!]
by contracting and releasing her thighs. I get hard watching her love
affair with death. I grasp her curving, bony hips, just watching her firm
young belly tighten with each stroke of her thighs.
I bend down to bite a nipple, and I stroke her wet little clit. I push
two fingers up that tight cunt. I kiss her lips. She whispers in my ear,
"now, DO me!" I pull away from her and with a hand still wet from her
juices, I shift the heavy wooden lever, and watch this girl crash down
through the trap door, bouncing as her neck cracks, smiling evilly,
spasming in death and orgasm, as perhaps she does every dawn.
I wake, or so I think, and I'm standing naked and shivering, there's a gunny sack over my head. I can feel the coarse, stiff hempen rope dragged over my head, tightened, closed about my unprotected neck. Closed, with no hope of opening!! My frightened penis leaps to hardness. I can feel a woman's lips on my belly, hear her giggle. Some evil, lascivious harlot wants to get off on my humiliation and execution. I wonder, in my darting brain, if it's the same girl. She wraps her mouth around my fear-induced erection. I struggle at my bonds, but my hands are lashed behind my back, and my ankles are bound. Another tramp is rubbing her naked breasts against my back, and with her hands [I assume they're hers] she's toying with my chest. My heart is racing. They have me and there is nothing I can do. Perhaps they [the authorities, whoever they are, who've deemed me worthy of hanging?] will wait, in their deviant way, for my orgasm. A flash of hope: what if I don't come?
...But the one girl is sucking harder, and tugging violently on my cock with one hand, and snaking a finger into my anus, while the other girl is tonguing my ear. The sex/death connection is too strong for me, and I cum, hard, and as I'm spurting I feel the girls pull away, I hear the trapdoor, I feel that dizzying nothingness under my feet, as if I were afraid to fall. I drop slowly, helplesssy, then the powerful noose snaps my head forw--
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