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The Noose

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The Noose

Alan knew he was playing with fire but he couldn’t stop himself. He looped his belt around his neck and pulled. Soon, the delicious euphoria of asphyxiation washed over him. He kept the pressure on the belt until his arms grew weak and he collapsed in a heap onto the carpeted floor. Feverishly, he squirted lotion on his rigid cock and brought himself to a quick orgasm. Then, filled with shame he straightened up, ready to present himself to the world as a normal, upstanding man.

But he knew he was addicted to his secret, solitary dangerous habit.

But he was about to reveal his secret to someone else, a professional dominatrix who specialized in his strange obsession. Alan knew he was dancing with death every time he played his game but, like the addict he was, he kept coming back.

Will his escalation lead to the ultimate ecstasy he was trying to achieve or the death he hoped to avoid?

Writer

AJ Greene

Words

14700

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Review

THE NOOSE

Gratifying an obsession has seldom been so… lethal!

Alan drove slowly around the old industrial building. The blood-red door waited for him, just where she said it would be. His palms were clammy and his heart was pounding in his chest as he got out of his parked car. He walked slowly towards the red door, dragging the palm of his hand against the brick.

He welcomed the coarseness of the century and a half old masonry; it felt real.

Alan stopped and leaned against the wall with both hands, breathing deeply, getting his courage up. He turned, lifted his face to a warm sun and felt a sense of peace. Ready now for the ordeal he longed for he pushed the doorbell and looked up into the security camera.

“What’s your name?” The female voice coming through the speaker hinted at a New England origin.

“I’m Alan.”

The lock buzzed; Alan pushed and entered. The heavy door closed slowly behind him and shut with a solid thud. Alan had frequently masturbated as he imagined this moment but it was about to become real.

He was about to meet “The Hangwoman.”

It took his eyes a few moments to adjust from the bright sunshine outside to the relative darkness of the room he was in. Mistress Elektra stood before him, a little taller than him in her heels, her booted legs spread shoulder width apart. Alan drew in his breath as he admired her figure.

A black leather skirt hugged her voluptuous hips. A black leather cincher corset with red laces emphasized her narrow waist and a sheer white blouse revealed her full breasts with dark red nipples. She held a black riding crop in both hands. As she walked towards him the stiletto heels of her thigh high boots tapped loudly, reverberating on the floor.

“Congratulations, you made it here.” Her strong voice was smooth and confident.

Alan was so consumed with the thought that she like a goddess that it took him a moment to remember his manners, until, under the scrutiny of her unblinking gaze:

“Thank you, Mistress.”

She pointed to a table. “Put the tribute here.”

Alan put three crisp new $100 bills into the graceful, handmade ceramic bowl on an antique side table.

“Thank you. Take off your clothes, everything and fold them neatly. Put them on that other chair.”
Alan hesitated when he got to his underpants. He was embarrassed that his cock was hard and obviously poking out. He blushed.

“Your cock seems happy to be here. Don’t worry; most guys have the same reaction. Everything comes off.”

Alan quickly finished stripping. He was now stark naked. His long hours at the gym were evident. Alan’s muscular legs were obviously strong and his shoulders powerful. The room was warm but he shivered.

“Hold your arms out and turn slowly around. I want to inspect you.” She tapped the underside of his outstretched arms with the crop. She tapped his inner thighs. “Spread your legs more.”

She tapped his rock hard cock.

“Okay, you’ll do just fine. Sit on that chair.”

Alan turned and saw a sturdy armchair with heavy leather straps attached to its legs, arms and back. He realized that sitting in the chair was his point of no return. Alan hesitated for a moment and then sat.

He was all in.

“Fasten the straps around your thighs. Good. Now, buckle the strap across your belly. Pull it tighter.” She handed him the two ends of the chest strap. “Fasten these.”
Alan leaned against the straps, testing them.

They were strong and held him securely.

Mistress Elektra went behind him and secured Alan’s upper arms to the chair with soft leather straps that waited to bind him. As she did this she leaned over, permitting her breast to brush against Alan’s face; her silky long black hair cascaded over his chest as she let Alan lean his smoothly shaved cheek against her breast for a moment.

He savored the softness as he breathed in her perfume.

She strapped down his forearms and then moved in front of him to secure his ankles. Alan’s head was not bound and when she stood up he moved his head as much as he could, trying to keep his cheek in contact with her breast. As she buckled his ankle straps she bent low, giving him a view of her breasts almost to her nipples. His rigid cock revealed that, so far at least, the session was everything he had hoped for.

He tried to lean towards her but the chest strap did its work and held him back.

Satisfied with her work, Mistress Elektra sat directly in front of Alan on an upholstered chair. Their knees were almost touching. The crop lay on her bare thighs above the tops of her boots.

“Now we can talk. Tell me why you’re here Alan. Look right into my eyes, don’t look away. Take all the time you need; we’ll have our full session no matter how long we talk. I want to be sure I understand you and what you want. Also, you should know that I’m recording this on video.”

She knew why he was there. She required all her potential clients to email her, describing what they wanted, in detail, but she wanted him to tell her in person. She knew that would make his experience with her more meaningful for him.

When Alan started to talk he looked down.

This would not do.

She lifted his chin with the crop.

“Look at me,” she ordered.

“I’m here for you to hang me, by my neck, in a noose.” The fateful words crept past his lips in a strangled whisper.

“Okay Alan, very good. Now, I’d like you to tell me when you got started with hanging.”

“I started hanging myself when I was a kid. I was maybe ten years old when I read somewhere that hanged men often had erections. That’s what first got me interested. I had a lot of close calls. I don’t know how I survived; just dumb luck, I guess.

“I remember the first time I saw a hanging scene in a movie. ‘Witches’ were being hanged. The plank they were on was kicked out and they hung there with their hands tied behind them and their feet twitching, struggling to touch the ground. I stared at them in their death throes, imagining that it was me up there, being strangled by the rope. I couldn’t wait to try it on myself.”

Alan paused, uncertain if he should continue.

“You’re doing very well,” she assured him. “Did you try it, on yourself?”

“Yes. I tied the terry cloth belt from my bath robe around my neck. Then I stood on the edge of the bathtub and tied the other end around the shower curtain rod. I must have slipped because the next thing I knew I was lying on the floor of the bathroom. My head was buzzing and the terrycloth belt was tight around my neck. I guess I’m lucky I hadn’t learned how to tie knots correctly yet.”

“A lot of my clients start young, like you did. What do you think about when you’re playing with yourself?”

Alan hesitated, blushing again yet still excited as she reached over and pinched his nipple, hard.
Alan gasped and winced.

“When I ask a question I expect an answer.”

He licked his dry lips and went on:

“I imagine that I’m with a beautiful woman,” he told her. My elegant, sensuous dream lady loves to get me hot sexually. She knows it excites me when she whips and hangs me, and I can tell it excites her too. My dream lady blends sex and power and hanging. I don’t want to really die and my dream lady manages to keep me alive, even though she hangs me and sometimes says I’m going to die in her noose.”

“How does she hang you?”

“The way I imagine it she firmly but affectionately ties my hands behind me and then caresses my cock and balls. She takes me over her lap and spanks me, letting her hand wander down between my ass cheeks. She does these things sensually and for sure not in a ‘mean’ way. The spanking over, she leads me to her gallows. When I am in position, she ties my knees together, places her noose around my neck and adjusts it so the rope won’t crush my Adam’s apple. After all, she doesn’t want to hurt me! Then she takes up the slack in the rope. I have to stand on my tip toes. She ties off the rope so she has both hands free and strokes my face, my chest, my cock. She says how much she loves me and gives an extra tug on the rope. I can’t move an inch. I can only receive her frightening, loving attention, helpless in her power.”

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