Where'd hangdog go?

I don't know if anyone from my haunts on EFnet would think to look here, but just in case, I'm likely to be pretty scarce for a while due to the holiday madness and other commitments. If anyone's looking for me, drop me a line; the address is in my complete profile (link at right).

Shasta, California, 1892

John and Charles Ruggles were lynched in 1892 for stagecoach robbery and murder in Shasta County, California. They were hanged from a harness; the method by which the harness was hoisted is not immediately apparent, unfortunately.

Story: Shutterbug

[I wrote this one in the late 90's, when cameras had film not pixels. Noose photos with a digital camera would be a lot easier to get away with than film, but why start rewriting things now?]

I picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, it's Charlie. How are you doing?"

"Fine. What's up with you?"

"Not much. Say, listen, I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"I'm wondering if you could take some pictures of me with your Polaroid."

"Uh oh. Polaroids. Some of those kinds of pictures. What for?"

"Well, I want to send a special picture to someone I've been writing to."

"OK. What kind of picture?"

"Let me tell you in person. When can we get together?"

I told him we could get together on Saturday afternoon. So three days later I showed up at his door with my Polaroid and a couple boxes of film, which he paid for.

"So tell me about it," I asked.

"Well," Charlie started, "I answered this ad in Drummer from this guy who said he was into hangings. We've written a few times and now he wants to see a picture of me."

I knew about Charlie's hanging thing for a while. I was surprised when he told me because I had never met anyone else who was interested in nooses and such. He had been real nervous, but I reassured him that I wasn't bothered by it. In fact, I said I could see how it could be interesting. Which is a gross understatement to me—I've liked to think about hanging and nooses for years. Still, I was a little concerned. "You thinking you guys might get together?"

"Maybe. I know what you're thinking. I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"OK. So what about this picture?"

"I thought if I could get it to look like I was about to be hanged, and sent him a picture of that, he'd get a real kick out of it."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Well, I have the rope, just got it yesterday." Charlie pointed at a coil of half-inch rope over on the table. "Plus I have rope for my wrists, and I've had a hood for a while. I know the spot a few miles out of town in a woods that no one ever goes to. Plus there's a bucket around here somewhere. All you have to do is set me up and take the picture. Oh, and get me down too, of course."

"Of course." The idea was real exciting to me. We had played bondage games before, so I knew I'd enjoy tying him up. I could feel my cock grow as I thought of the possibilities. "You look excited about this," I said noticing the bulge in Charlie's crotch.

"Yeah, I guess I am. And you know, maybe we can play around out there ourselves afterward."

"You do know how to get me interested," I said, thinking that's just what I wanted to do. "When do we go?"

"How about now?"

We grabbed the rope, hood, and bucket and threw them in my car. We drove a ways out of town and he directed me down some dirt roads until we came to a secluded place to stop the car. Then we hiked into the woods for a few minutes and came to a big old oak tree. Charlie stripped off his shirt revealing his beefy hairy chest. He set to throwing an end of the hanging rope over the tree branch. The other end was already tied in a noose. When the free end made it over the branch, he set the bucket up underneath the noose. Then he had me get him ready. First I tied his wrists behind his back He looked so good like that, standing there bound, my cock was already getting nice and fat inside my jeans. I couldn't resist reaching around him and running my hands over his furry torso and arms. I had him step up on the bucket then, and I could just barely reach to pull the hood over his head. When I got the hood arranged, I reached for the noose. My cock jumped, excited by the heft of the 7-turn knot. I pulled it over his hooded head and placed it around his neck. "You gotta pull it snug, so it looks real," Charlie told me. So I pulled it tight, with the knot behind his left ear. "Ooh, you've done this before," he said. "Nope, I've just been listening to you too long," I replied. I went to tie the rope off on the tree trunk, pulling the noose a little bit tighter as I did.

I stood back and looked at Charlie, bare-chested, roped, hooded, and noosed, ready as if he really was going to drop. It occurred to me that he must have really trusted me to ask me to put him in this position, because he sure had no way out now except when I untied him. But then I had never told him how much I would enjoy this. Noticing how big the bulge in his jeans was getting, I said "I'd better get the picture now, before you shoot your load already." I grabbed the Polaroid and quickly snapped two pictures, one for Charlie and one to mail. "That's only two, get one for yourself if you want," he said, so I did. Then I started thinking. "Let me try something," I said. I went over, loosened the noose, then pulled off his hood. Then I put the noose back on. "Maybe he wants to see your face too."

"Yeah, maybe you're right." So I took three more pictures while Charlie put on his best condemned criminal look.

"Hey let me see these, I can't wait till I get down." I showed him both poses and he was smiling ear to ear. "Man they look good. They're so fucking hot, it's a good thing my hands are tied up."

"Let's give him a real show," I said as I opened Charlie's jeans and pulled them down around his ankles. His cock sprung out when I let it loose, hard as rock and dripping pre-cum. I got three more pictures, then one more as close as I could of his hairy crotch. "Time to change film," I said as I left him standing there to get the spare roll.

When I came back he was staring at me, his eyes full of lust. I looped the camera around my neck and started feeling his belly, cock, balls, ass, inside of his legs. He moaned, and I thought sure he was ready to shoot anytime. "You got any more poses you want me to shoot?" I asked.

"No, man, I'm ready to play."

"OK. But I got one more I want to try." I gave his cock one last squeeze and walked over toward the tree trunk. I grabbed the rope between the trunk and the branch and pulled on it firmly.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"We need a realistic shot."

His expression turned from lust to panic. He started to say "No, don't" but I pulled on the rope enough to raise his weight some. Then I kicked the bucket out from under his feet and let the rope go. Charlie dropped a few inches but stayed about a foot off the ground, the grass sufficiently far away from the toes of his boots. He began struggling to pull his hands loose. The noose already was causing him a lot of pain, judging from the look in his face. He made a couple of agonized-sounding wheezes, then his kicking and struggling finally caused the noose to close off his windpipe completely. I got one picture of him, then put the camera down and undid my pants so I could pull my own rock-hard cock out.

I watched him dangle, his silent fight against the noose making him bounce and twist. His face was a deep purple and his bloodshot eyes bulged out from their sockets. I saw his tongue poke out between his lips. Finally his cock started shooting ropes of cum, which arced into the air and landed past his feet. The last few spurts ran more down his legs. I was too hot but held off. I looked up at his eyes but they were dull and glassy and I knew he was unconscious. If I left him there much longer he'd be dead. That thought excited me more than anything ever had. His struggles began to wane. I saw that and went over the edge. I shot load after load of cum on his legs and twitching feet. My orgasm was so strong I had trouble standing up. When I could see clearly again Charlie was hanging still. There was no sound other than the breeze in the trees, the same breeze that made him swing slightly back and forth. Piss started to dribble from his cock and run down his legs. I debated, then decided to take one more picture of Charlie's dead body dangling before me. Then I gathered up the bucket, his shirt, and the empty film pack and hiked back to my car.

They found him about three days later. I'm glad I got the pictures when I did instead of when they found him. I still pull them out every once in a while, and those pictures still gets me hot. Especially that last one of him with his head angled funny because of the knot in the noose, his darkened face and bulging eyes, naked with his pants around his ankles, hanging lifelessly with that big hard cock still sticking out into the air. Too bad I never got that other guy's address, he might have enjoyed these too.

Self-Pic

Unlike some other kink and fetish interests, nooses are hard to self-photograph. This is a photo of me wearing a noose that used to be on my old site. It's a Polaroid and about thirteen years old, which doesn't help (lots of color shifting going on), and it's cropped to hide the fact that the camera was held at arm's length. I still like it, mostly because of the nice thick rope—3/4-inch manila. It's the rope that inspired the "Buying Rope" story, in fact.

Telephone poles work, too

George Witherill ran afoul of the good citizens of Canon City, Colorado, in 1888, and wound up decorating a telegraph pole. I'm kind of surprised at how well-dressed the mob is here.