Return to the Old Barn

Another story from my old website that hasn't been posted here yet.

(originally posted 2 July 2002)

I was driving around on probably the last warm day of summer, out in the country where I used to live. It was bringing back lots of memories from when I was younger, before I moved away and started working and all. I stopped at a couple of places, just to see if they were different from way back when, and of course they were. There was one more place I wanted to see, so I drove past where my parents used to live to the old abandoned barn.

The barn sat in the middle of a property that used to be a working farm, with a house and other outbuildings. But now the house was gone, the fields were overgrown with weeds and wildflowers, and the only outbuilding left was the barn. Even it was considerably more run-down than I remembered it, with a few holes in the wooden walls and some missing shingles on the roof. It was tall, and I remembered that it had a good-sized loft in the west end.

I pulled onto the property and drove far enough in to where some overgrown shrubs hid my truck from passing cars. The gas station across the road was even abandoned now, which made the area look even more desolate than before. I got out and walked slowly up to the barn, taking my time and surveying the surrounding field as I walked.

The big rolling door was wide open, just like it always was. I walked in, and felt as if I'd stepped back fifteen years. There was old clumps of straw on the floor, a bucket rusting in the corner, some other unidentified stuff scattered around. I saw the loft, with the rungs up one wall leading up to it. I climbed up partway, and it was much the same as before, not much there. The roof was riddled with strips of bright light. If it hadn't been dry around here lately, there would probably be puddles or damp spots on the floor.

There were two small rooms in the middle of the barn, under the front of the loft, and then an opening to a big room in the back. I walked toward the back room. The concrete floor became dirt back there, and a small window cast very little light into the space. The ceiling was partly gone ’ the main reason why I'd never ventured into the loft ’ and you could see through past the big log beams to the roof. It was very quiet. It brought back memories, arousing ones.

I walked back toward the front and into the little rooms. The first room led you to a doorway to the second room. Both were small, with concrete block walls and concrete floors, and the ceiling was in better shape than in the big dark room but still constructed of the log beams and floorboards on top of them. I got to the second room, which had a window with no glass, and remembered everything.

#####

I had been 19, and bored, so I set out for a walk, thinking I'd explore the old barn. I worked my way over there, trying to slip past anyone who might have been glancing over from the gas station. Inside the barn, I explored, interested in the new surroundings, and horny too. But I had something special in mind. I found a bucket off in a corner, black and in pretty good shape, and took it to one of the little rooms, the one with the window. At first I thought I'd just sit down and jack off. But I'd been playing around with tying things around my neck for a few years, and here I was with the possibility of tying the other end of a rope to something. I went looking for old rope, but didn't really find anything, just a small length of heavy twine. No problem, I realized, as I went back to the room.

I stripped, getting buck naked and putting my clothes in a neat pile. I pulled my belt from the loops of my jeans, and looked toward the ceiling. I found a big staple, almost a hasp, sunk into one of the ceiling beams. I pulled on it some, and it seemed sturdy. So I set up the bucket underneath it.

My heart beat hard and fast as I stepped up onto the bucket. I looped the belt through its buckle and slipped it over my head and around my neck. Then I pulled the long end behind my head and slipped it though the staple in the beam. I made as good an overhand knot as I could, given that I was working with a 1 ½ inch belt.

I stood there, all noosed up, cold and clammy from the fear and excitement. I pulled on my cock a little bit. I was too scared to just jump off, so I reached up with both hands and held the beam while I stepped off. Then I let go of the beam. I was hanging!

I dangled for a few seconds, looking at the room from up closer to the ceiling. The room began to darken a little and turn fuzzy. It was at that point where I panicked. I grabbed the beam again with my hands, and pulled myself back up so that I could stand on the bucket again. My legs were wobbly, so I held onto the beam for a while until I thought I wouldn't fall over, then extricated myself from my belt-noose.

Then I realized that I hadn't even come, so I sat down on the floor and jacked off.

#####

So now, fifteen years later, I stood in the barn, in the room where I almost killed myself. I didn't really know it then, but now I knew that I was on the verge of passing out when the room started getting dark and fuzzy, and only a few seconds later I'd have been just kicking uselessly at the end of the belt-noose, and only a few minutes after that I'd have been dead. And in the dark moments of night in the last few years, it was that realization that seized me the most. I'd shot a few loads of spunk thinking about dangling like a chunk of meat from that beam.

I stood, trying to feel the energy of a kid dangling from a noose, stroking my cock through my jeans. Fifteen years later, I was horny and curious again. Only this time, things were a bit different. I knew exactly how dangerous it was. And this time, I had the right tools for the job. I stopped stroking and headed back out to the truck for a bag that I kept behind the bench seat.

On the way back into the barn, I made sure I was alone, but I also knew that the only people who would come out here might be hunters. I got back into the barn with my heart beginning to act like a jackhammer again. I grabbed the bucket from the corner of the front room. Damned if it wasn't the same one I used 15 years ago.

I debated using the little room like I had the first time, but I realized that I really had wanted to use one of the exposed beams in the big dark room, so that's where I took my bag and the bucket. I put everything down and stripped buck naked. The cool air raised goose bumps, and I had to stand just breathing deeply to calm down.

I took the bucket and set it up under one of the exposed beams. Then I fished the rope out of the bag. It was already tied properly into a noose with 7 turns in the knot. Standing next to the bucket, I pulled the noose open a bit, then I gingerly stepped barefoot onto the cold metal bucket. I slipped the noose over my head and snugged it around my neck, with the knot just behind my left ear.

I took the other end of the rope and fed it over the top of the beam, then looped it around again and made a loose knot to keep it there. The end dangled a bit long, so I looped it around the beam again just to keep it out of the way.

When I stepped off, I would keep my hands on my cock until I shot. Then I'd try to save myself. That was the plan. If I didn't shoot this time, then... well, ok, I'd probably panic again and grab the beam. It just felt hotter to say that if I didn't shoot, I wouldn't make it out.

I took a deep breath, then another. I reached up to the beam again, with both hands.... then dangled one foot off the bucket... then took the other foot off... and then lost my grip on the beam.

The rope caught me. I now dangled buck naked above the floor of the barn. Again.

I tried to be calm enough to just hang for a few seconds, trying to enjoy the feeling of the noose and the air under my feet. Then I grabbed my cock, which was rock hard, and started stroking it fast. I tried to look down at it, and that's when I noticed the darkness creeping in from the edges of my vision. And I also realized that I wanted to breathe. I tried to pull air through my mouth... and it didn't make it past the noose which held tight to my neck.

That's when I panicked. I let go of my cock and reached up for the beam... only to find that now I could barely touch it. I scrambled with my feet to get back on the bucket. I felt my heel hit the bucket, and then I couldn't find it again. The darkness in my eyes closed in faster as I realized "I'm fucked." I tried grabbing the rope itself... and then suddenly I was awash in an orgasm as my cock started shooting ’ my body shuddered from the force of it, and I let go of the rope as my cumshots hit the floor.

By the time my last few spurts of cum dribbled down my legs, I wasn't seeing anything anymore. I felt my head slowly drooping forward until it came to rest, cocked slightly to the right, with my tongue poking out between my lips. My body struggled uselessly for a minute, then the movements subsided to twitches and spasms. One final spasm, and I was dangling limp, beginning to lose my body heat to the cool barn air.

#####

Sometime around mid-morning a day later, a couple of hunters found the body. They saw the pick-up, and one of them remembered seeing it sitting there a day or so before as he drove by. They went into the barn with their two dogs and looked around until one of the dogs started barking in the dark back room. When the hunters went in, they found a naked man hanging from the rafters, his clothes in a neat pile off by the wall, and a bucket on its side about 4 feet away from the toes of the dead man. They were quiet for a while, trying to get over the shock of their discovery.

"Stupid fucker musta killed hisself," the bigger of the two said.

The other one went over to the pile of clothes and fished out a wallet. License, credit cards, insurance, money. He read off the license. "Got about 43 dollars here, Jimmy, not counting change in his other pocket."

"Butch, you bastard, going through a dead guy's wallet," Jimmy said. Butch just grinned. "Whyn't you just get the keys out so you can drive the truck away, why don't you?"

"Good idea," Butch said, and soon he had the keys and change too.

Jimmy just walked around the body dangling cold and stiff from the rope. "Wonder why the fuck'd he do it?"

"You said he was a stupid fucker, right? Well, that's your answer. Look'it his pecker too. He probably enjoyed it," Butch said and guffawed.

"Geez, you're one sick fucker, you know that?" Jimmy said in disgust, although he too saw the dead man's tool dangling thick and long between his legs. "What d'ya think you're gonna do with those keys anyway?"

"I'm gonna drive that truck off to my cousin, who's gonna sell it overseas, that's what. I'll get more than $43 bucks for that, that's for goddamn sure," Butch replied. "Don't worry, I'll split the money with you."

"Well, we better vamoose before anyone else gets suspicious and starts wandering by." Jimmy whistled for the dogs and headed out of the barn. Butch grabbed the dead man's clothes and boots and headed out to his new truck. They both sped away, leaving the man hanging in the barn for someone else to find.