Showing posts with label memoir. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memoir. Show all posts

Sunday, January 16, 2011

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.