Story: Ghost Story

This is an old one, written in 1994, with some reworking today. It's kind of unusual in that it relies on the possibility of ghosts, which I haven't seen much in other noose stories.

It was Dakota Territory, something like 1885. I had been leading a posse through the Badlands for about two weeks. A friend of mine had been killed back in Sioux Falls. I didn't do it, but when I heard they were looking for me I took off. That made me guilty in their eyes, and I knew what they were going to do if they caught me.

But two weeks of running had exhausted me and my horse. The posse finally caught me while we rested by a river, the only place for miles where there was any trees for shade. There was five of 'em, all big and mean with guns, and I couldn't fight back when they fell on me. They quickly had me down on the ground with my hands tied behind my back. While I was down they beat me up pretty bad, one of them getting in a few kicks to my stomach before they pulled me to my feet.

I got a short rest in the dirt while they discussed whether to take me back to Sioux Falls to stand trial and be hanged from the gallows there. But they decided to just get things over with here and now.

Story Index

I thought an index to the stories I've written and posted here might be useful. It's already helped me realize that I have more stories I haven't posted yet. It's also reminding me I have new stories I haven't finished writing yet. No promises; I mean, look at my track record with posting so infrequently. But at least there's potential material.

Stories are listed in alpha order. I tried adding descriptor tags here. Of course they're all "m/m" but I used that term here to indicate when it wasn't a solo thing. If it doesn't say "nonlethal," then not all the characters get out of the story alive. And, they're all "hanging"s so far, but I might someday write one where a noose is not involved.

The Biker (posted 19 Apr 2009) (biker, hanging, lynching, m/group)
(Published in Nooseletter, 1995, issue 5)

Buying Rope (Part 1) (posted 23 Oct. 2008) (play, solo, nonlethal)

Curiosity (posted 22 Apr 2009) (hanging, necro, murder, m/m/m)
(Published in Nooseletter, vol. 1, no. 3, 1996)

Deadman's Gulch (posted 1 Oct 2008) (hint of paranormal, biker, execution, hanging, m/m)

Followup to "Motorcycle Suicide" (posted 8 Oct. 2008) (play with offscreen suicide hanging [nonlethal otherwise], strangling, m/m/m)

Ghost Story (posted 26 Nov. 2011) (Paranormal, lynching, solo play, hanging)

Gone as Far as You Could Go (posted 15 January 2023) (solo play w/encouragement, hanging, m(m))

Hippie (posted 4 August 2012) (m/m, hanging, lethal, murder)

Hung Bear (posted 1 Aug 2009) (hanging, m/m)

Indians and Cowboys (posted 11 June 2017) (hanging, lethal, necro)

Intoxication (posted 27 May 2018) (hanging, lethal, western, m/m)

Just Lookin' (posted 3 June 2017) (hanging, m/m, lethal)

Mark and I (posted 9 Nov 2008) (paranormal, suicide, necro, hanging, m/m)

Naked Volunteer (posted 20 Oct 2018) (western, hanging, m/m)

Needin' Hangin' (posted 7 April 2020) (westerns, hanging, m/m, suicide)

New story: Part 1 (posted 24 July 2010) (play, strangling, nonlethal, m/m)

Not Practice This Time (posted 28 October 2013) (hanging, snuff, m/m)

Number 5 (posted 24 August 2014) (hanging, sex, m/m, nonlethal)

Return to the Old Barn (posted 1 April 2017) (solo hanging)

Shutterbug (posted 8 Dec 2008) (hanging, play, murder, m/m)

Time Out (posted 18 March 2017) (hanging, solo, kinda-necro, m/m)

Too Easy (posted 15 January 2018) (strangling, murder, bondage, m/m)

Voyeur (posted May 16, 2015) hanging, suicide, m/m

If it matters, "Mark and I" is my favorite story, though "Deadman's Gulch" is one I foolishly think has some small amount of literary potential. "Curiosity" might be the nastiest one I've posted so far.

You can find anything in Wikipedia, right? This one is described there as "Hanging of a Horse Thief," in 1900 in Oregon. This horse thief still has a bit of life left in him, apparently, but that probably didn't last long.

Noosed-up cowboy

Usually I want to post photos here with some of the story behind them. This one's story has eluded me so far. In fact, I can't really be certain it's historical. Maybe it's from a TV documentary. The little camera logo in the corner gives me pause too; I don't know if this is a photo from a stock agency, or rather which one. I've had some photos in my computer collection for years, and as I've commented before details are hard to come by with Internet photos. Having said that, though, this is a pretty good Western-looking photo. I've run into a few guys on IRC who would like to be noosed up and geared up like this guy.

Anyway, if you happen to know anything about this photo, please drop me a line in the comments. Or if you have anything else to say, for that matter.

GPOY

I had the idea for this photo this morning, and took it tonight as a self-pic. The problem with beards, especially big beards, is they would hide a noose. I wanted to show this rope off. It's 3/4" hemp, not quite as scratchy as I thought it would be. Come to think of it, it's been photographed before. It still hasn't been really stretched yet.

If you can't follow yourself, who can you follow?

Is it pathetic to follow your own blog? Over on the right in the little applet for Followers, I added myself. Actually, I'm just trying to figure out how the follow function and Friends Connect work. I'm a bit confused by it, as it seems to use "follower" and "member" the same way, but maybe not. I'm sure I'll figure it out, even if I have to break down and ask someone about it. :)

This comes up because I discovered a blog called Depictions of Death, which kept me entertained quite a few hours in the last couple of days. I'm not quite all about nooses, you see. While I was viewing the depictions, I chased down a lot of help files trying to figure out the ramifications of following and Friend Connect and such. The blog content was, of course, much more enlightening.

Somewhere in the help files, it was said that one should mention when one sets up the widget to solicit followers, so if you've been here (as you seem to be now) and you want to come back, you can click the handy button to the right.

I guess this post also serves to indicate that I'm still around, since it has been another long gap between posts. There's a new story cooking in my febrile brain (bet you've heard that before...) that I hope to start writing soon.

Almost too far

The summer after my freshman year of college, I was 19, unemployed, and bored a lot. My family lived out in the country and I spent a lot of time by myself roaming the fields and woods nearby. One warm afternoon, I got the idea to explore an old abandoned barn a fair distance away from the house for some fun. It felt a bit forbidden, and I had to cross a bit of open field to get there, but once inside I couldn't be seen.

The front of the barn was pretty bright, with a concrete floor, big sliding doors left open and gaps between the planks of the walls. I saw a bucket and a pile of hay twine along with some other junk. There was a cinderblock wall with rungs set in like a ladder, to get to the loft, and to the right of that was an entry to a smaller room that was pretty empty and led to another small room with a high window opening. Back to the main area I saw a bigger opening to the back of the barn, which had a dirt floor and was darker, but had exposed beams where the floor of the loft had rotted. Cooler, and a little spookier.

I went back toward the front with an idea. I'd mostly wanted to just jack off, but I got the idea to jack off in a special way. I had already been tying things around my neck for years. My favorite implement for this was a rubber inner tube. Even when I attached it above my head, I had never been off the floor; just stretched the inner tube tight so I got some effect from it. I didn't have the inner tube today, but I did have a 1 1/2-inch leather belt.

I got the bucket, which was metal and black and about a foot and a half high, and a little of the twine and went back into the second of the little concrete block rooms. The ceiling beam had a couple of big metal staples sunk in deep. I figured I could run the belt through one of them, but how to keep it attached above my head? That's where the twine came in. I looped some of the twine through a belt hole and could reach the second staple so I could tie it. (It's amazing the logistics one can get into with this "hobby.")

So, I set up the black bucket under the beam. I got naked, piling my clothes up on the concrete floor behind me. Then I stepped up onto the upturned bucket. I was already excited. I looped the belt around my neck with the long end coming through the stout buckle, then through the first staple, the one I'd actually be dangling from. Finally I tied the doubled-up twine to the second staple.

I didn't want to kill myself; wasn't even thinking of that. I just wanted to have fun and get off. My dick wasn't completely hard, probably because I was so scared/excited, but it was dripping. I was also a little concerned that I would get found, so I wanted to get to the next step. I figured I'd get hard once I did. I reached up and held the beam, then dangled one foot off the bucket... slowly let go of the beam... while the other foot came off the bucket.

Everything held. I was hanging!

For about 10 or 15 seconds. Then I panicked. I reached up to the beam and pulled myself up enough so I could get my feet back onto the bucket. My legs were wobbly, so I held the beam for a minute or so to keep steady. The belt-noose loosened immediately so I wasn't in any danger. After a couple of minutes I was calm enough to untie the twine and get down. I sat on the bucket, still a little wobbly. I realized I hadn't gotten off yet, so I rubbed one out just to get the release. Eventually I got dressed, but I lingered around the barn a little while just to let any marks or redness around my neck fade. (I'd had problems with visible marks before, but didn't have them this time.) As I left I put the bucket and twine back where I'd found them, and I headed back across the field and through the wooods shaking my head at what I'd just done.

Years later, when I got started "researching" the topic thoroughly, I ran into several descriptions of the effects of hanging. A detail from that day in the barn came back to me when I read about how easy it is to accidentally pass out unexpectedly, and if you see the surroundings start to darken you're just seconds away from passing out. I did have the beginnings of this darkening. As I was beginning to pull myself back up on the bucket, I remember that my vision was beginning to get kind of brown around the edges. I figure I was just a few seconds away from being one of those "accidents" you hear about from time to time. I have to admit, I have had hot fantasies about that experience with just one minor change.

But I didn't want to kill myself, really. I just wanted a little fun.