New story: Part 1

Here's part one of the new story I mentioned in my last post. I don't know how many more installments there will be. I have the last half written, thanks to the white heat of horniness, and now I'm writing toward it from the beginning.

I met Jim online (of course) about three months ago. He had nice looking photos and appealing stats — late 20s, 5'11", good build from working out some but not freaky, hair in all the right places, and a slightly bigger than decent-sized cock. The text said he liked "doing creative things with rope that leave me breathless." I just figured that meant he liked bondage a lot, which was perfect for ome since I liked it too. I sent him a reply. He wrote back the next day indicating he liked my profile as much as I liked his, and a week later we were having a get-to-know-you coffee.

We hit it off pretty well. He was friendly and pretty open and, well, pretty damn attractive. Throwing caution to the winds, I invited him back to my place to try out some rope. He enthusiastically said yes. A half-hour later, his clothes were folded and Jim was naked, kneeling on the floor, and wearing some of my best rope around his wrists, chest, and ankles. His mouth was stuffed with my cock, and he was moaning and sucking awfully well. I came up with an idea to prolong things. I gently pulled out, reached for a short length of quarter-inch rope, and slowly circled it around his neck, holding it in a loop with my hand behind his neck. It was pretty forward of me and I wouldn't have done it ordinarily, so I watched him carefully. Was he going to freak out?

"Yesssss..." he said. I tightened it just a little. He half moaned, half sighed, and his cock jerked.

"So that's what you meant by 'creative things with rope that leave you breathless'," I said with a slightly evil smile.

"Mm-hm," was all he said, but between that, his pointy nipples, and dripping meat, I knew I'd hit on something. I tied a quick slipknot in the rope and pulled it a little tighter than before. Then I stuffed my hard prick down his gullet again. His gagging and sucking got me off real quick. Then I knelt in front of his bound, kneeling body, jerked his noose even tighter, and grabbed his cock. It only took about fifteen deliberate pulls on his rod to get it to shoot a big mess on our knees and the floor.

Then I untied him, helped him up into bed, and we lay together for a while. And had a little talk.

Apologies for the lack of posting here. (November, huh? How time flies....) There's nothing to be concerned about on my end. I just haven't had a lot to say. Recently I started a new story that I'll share here soon. It's turning out to be a long one, so I think I'll post it serially as an experiment. I ended up writing the second half first, the half with the really good stuff, of course, so I have to write a bit more first before I post that part. The first installment should be up in a day or two.

Check-in

It's been a few months since my last post, so I thought I should post in case anyone is checking in to see if I'm still around. The last few months have seen me working on other, somewhat more sedate things. Lately I've worked on more noose stories. I revised the story "Mark & I" that was posted here a while ago (link is to the original version). I'm trying to figure out the best way to share the new version, whether I should remove the old one or just keep both here. And I wrote a new story based on some artwork posted to the Gaynoose group on google. The new one needs a reading and probably revising; I just finished the draft this week.

The other bit of news I have is that a couple of months ago I tried to post a photo to my Recon account, but they bounced it, presumably because it violated their terms of service. Recon updated their documentation to spell things out more clearly, and they have certain rules because it's located in the U.K. that wouldn't apply in the States. I can accept that... if it weren't for all the other noose photos I see that are a bit further across the line than my rejected one was. I'm not complaining, because I don't want someone there deciding to go after everyone. I'll post the one they rejected here, and the best part is I can explain that I was laying in bed, decidedly not dead, holding the camera in one hand so that the rope could be seen. It wasn't even that tight, really. I mean, I could breathe and everything.

Story: Hung Bear

Written in summer 1995

I got the letter from him in June. He was the first guy to write to me from the Hangman's Noose Club. It was a short note, but effective I almost orgasmed reading his fifth paragraph:

The type of person you and I need to meet is one that will do exactly what the other person wants no more, no less. I would always respect your wishes and go only to the limit set in advance, but I could also go all the way with you (and vice-versa) and enjoy watching that big man body stretched and hung nude, cock and balls swaying in the breeze. I would see the big guy shit, piss, and come all at once. I'd let you swing about two hours, cut you down, and bury your ass face down in the earth.

My heart was pounding and my dick was hard by the time I finished the letter. I wrote back right away, trying to match his letter's tone. A couple of letters and a phone call later, and we had a date.

The night before I got the plane tickets, I re-read the letter, calmly for once, realizing this was a guy who wanted me and he wanted to kill me, to see my big furry body dangling from a tree limb. And I was going to play with him. I couldn't get the image out of my mind of my big furry body hanging from the tree, slumped shoulders and drooping head and feet.

The next day I bought the ticket. One way.

Story: Curiosity...

This one was published in the reincarnated Noose Letter from Dragon Publishing, volume 1 issue 3, in 1996 under the byline of "Member B0018." It was later republished on the now-defunct Gay Male Hanging Site, but the author was listed there as "anonymous."

I found him about 3:00 as I walked down the trail a few miles off the road in a remote part of the park. The sun was warm, giving a hint of what the Texas summer would be like, but it was still pleasant since it was only February. I couldn't believe it when I saw him, but as I got closer I could see it was true. The guy was hanging about a foot and a half off the ground, a half-inch rope connecting his neck to the tree branch overhead. Very much dead. His hands were tied behind his back. He wore only a pair of weathered brown leather cowboy chaps and his boots--his shirt and pants were gone. He hung almost motionless, except when a light breeze came up he'd sway and spin a little.

Seeing him like that was a gruesome sight, and I didn't want to get too close, but then I didn't want to not look either. I glanced around to make sure I was alone, then moved in a few steps. His skin was a pallid gray now, and his face was darker, probably from hanging here strangling. His chest was hairy and the fur was thick around his crotch, where his cock was pointing out erect and his balls were pulled up tight. I'd heard a man could get hard and maybe even shoot as he was being hanged, but I never expected to be able to confirm that. Around behind, I saw his back was hairy too, a little less so on his nice round ass which was framed nicely by the chaps. His wrists were rope-burned from his unsuccessful efforts to get them free before the noose killed him.

I raised my head and looked past his sloping shoulders and stretched neck to follow the noose up to the branch he dangled from. The rope went from there back down to the tree trunk, where it was looped around the trunk and tied off I circled back to look up at his bearded face, his eyes still bulging and his tongue poking out slightly between his blackened lips. Bet he was a good looking feller before he strangled. "Poor fucker," I said. He didn't say anything back.

Story: The Biker

This one was published in issue 5 of the zine The Noose Letter in 1995; this was the version published by Winter Publishing (I was member 023), before Dragon Publishing took it over (where I was member B0018). I honestly haven't really looked at it in a few years.

I'm going down this highway in Montana doing about 70 on my Harley. The engine's just roaring along like some big contented cat, and I'm riding in full leathers: jacket, vest, chaps over my jeans, harness boots. I'm wondering if this is something how they felt a hundred years ago traveling by horseback across these plains. I've been on the road for three or four days, me and my bike alone, and I feel like I could stay out here forever. Except that right now the summer sun has me cooking underneath my jacket and I'm a little bit horny too.

So I pull the bike off at the next wide spot in the road for a break. It takes a while for the ringing in my ears from the wind noise and the bike noise to die down. I pull off my helmet and jacket and let the air cool my furry face and chest. Boy that feels good. My cock and balls are still vibrating from the ride, and when I brush my hand over my crotch it feels like they want to come out and play. I see a path from this roadside to a small grove of trees off in the distance. Leaving my jacket and helmet with the bike, I take off down the trail. On the way my left hand spends most of its time under my vest scratching my chest and playing with a nipple or two, which makes me feel better and better.

Until the trail bends and I see something dangling from one of the trees. A minute or two closer I stop dead in my tracks. That's a man hanging from the lowest branch of a tree on the far side of this patch of woods.

Unknown rope stretcher

My source for this image claims that nothing is known about this former rope-dancer. (But then it claimed that the image of the guy strung up in the photos I posted on March 8 is of Big Jim Long, and it's not.)

I just realized that the Killin' Jim Miller image I posted last month was already posted before, dammit. I probably deserve a flogging; hangin's too good for me. (Oh wait, I'd probably like that, too.)