Here's something... it's from about six years ago, and it probably is half of what the story should be—the climax half, at least. The premise is that the "victim" has somehow trained himself to hang without snuffing it right away (which of course is not really possible, unfortunately). One ought not tempt fate too often, though.
It's been about ten minutes and I just felt one of those gentle, warm breezes lick my whole body and make it spin around a little, slowly. It feels so fuckin' good that for a moment I forgot about the rope that's tight around my neck. I'm dangling from a sturdy oak branch, buck naked, with my hands tied helplessly behind my back. My buddy Buck, the one who tied my wrists after I snugged the noose around my neck, just watches. We're on his land, which is wooded and far from a paved road, and he's my only way out of this.
Usually a guy in my position would be a corpse by now. But I've been working on this for years. It's a combination of control that makes it possible for me to hang and not die. I know there isn't much blood getting to my brain, or much oxygen in it. But I'm hanging still and quiet, conserving energy. I've gone five minutes before, even ten. This time it'll be twenty, maybe. Buck will get me down then, or sooner if I give him a signal, which would actually be a trick without my hands. But I'm not worried. I'm relaxed, letting my head droop forward, my shoulders sloping, neck stretched, feet limp and pointing down. My cock isn't so relaxed; it arcs out from my crotch fat and semi-hard, the same as when I started this.
About ten minutes ago... well, maybe twelve I guess... I stepped down the three-step ladder, first one step which tightened the rope. Then I tried to reach the next step, but my right foot didn't reach it and my left foot ended up pushing the ladder out from under me. The rope caught me, and I had to struggle a bit to adjust where the rope was on my neck. That's always where the most danger is with this. Maybe I won't get the panic under control? Or I'll shift wrong and break my neck? But the struggling makes a good show. Buck records it on a digital camera. I'll struggle and kick for a minute or so, then slow down, and finally hang still. That's where you'd think I'd be unconscious and just about dead. But I'm not. I'm just really enjoying hanging from the rope at that point.
After about four minutes, Buck stopped the video. He took some still photos then. Full length, then close-ups of tied wrists, dangling feet, head with mouth open showing tongue, cock and balls. Buck then stepped back and took long-range pics, lots of trees with a naked guy hanging from one of them.
Then he sat down near me, back against a tree, and waited. Me, I just floated, kind of, Float in the air, float in and out of consciousness, in a way. All my eyes see is forest floor and my legs dangling above it. It's all very dim too.
Minutes pass. Long minutes. I'm vaguely beginning to wonder if it's time to come down. My brain is real foggy now. There's a breeze but I can barely feel it. I'm only sensing the movement as the forest floor changes below me. My right foot twitches, almost like a kick.
Buck gets up and comes near. He's shirtless, wearing just jeans and work boots. His jeans are probably bulging, if I know him well enough. "Think it's time to come down, boy?" he says. His voice is kind of hard, actually. I blink twice. Yes.
"22 minutes. You did good." He reaches up and strokes my chest and the hair on my belly. "I think you could do better, though, know what I mean?"
I don't know what he means. Twenty-five minutes? Half-hour?
"When they hang a guy, a guy who deserves to be hanged, they usually let him hang for a half-hour. Maybe an hour," Buck said slowly. His hands were down into my crotch fur. "Y'know, to make sure he's dead." My cock jumped a bit at the word 'dead', or was it because that's when Buck's hand reached my balls?
I tried to groan, and managed only a little rasping noise. He didn't need to be getting fresh with me — he needed to be untying the rope around the tree trunk and letting me down. Instead he kept stroking and pulling on my balls.
"See, while I've been waiting for you, I figured something out. I figured, boy likes his rope too much. Boy needs to own up to the fact that he needs to snuff it." Again a jump from my cock, which was really hard. "Boy needs to snuff it NOW."
I kind of struggled. No! Tried to say it, but I only made another raspy noise, a bit louder than the first.
"There's a nice hole I dug for you, back behind my barn. All I have to do is drag you over to it, dump you in, cover you up. Let you sleep a long long time. You'd like that, huh boy? Dead and buried, boy." He had a big hand around my dick now. "Dead and buried."
I pulled together as much energy as I could and kicked him. He fell back onto the forest floor, while I started swinging wildly. I knew if I didn't get down fast, I'd need that hole he dug.
Buck just smiled, and got up. I looked down at him with pleading eyes, mouthing the word Please....
"No, boy, your dick says you need this," he said, and my goddamn dick was still rock-hard and purple headed. Buck grabbed me in a bearhug, so I could struggle against his body but not do much. I was getting tired from the exertion, and the rope seemed to be trying harder to strangle me now. Buck had a good hold on me, and then he slowly wrapped his lips around my cock and took me in.
Fuck, he's gonna suck me off and kill me. I could feel his lips trying to pull spunk out of me along with his arms pulling down on me, stretching my neck. The rope got even tighter. The edges of my vision started turning even darker and fuzzy. All I felt was Buck sucking hard on my cock. My own damn fault, I thought. Then that was gone in a flood of euphoria — I was shooting down Buck's gullet, the biggest, hottest, and last load I'd ever have.
And then Buck pulled down hard on my hips, like he was hanging off of me.
Blackness rolled over me. I could only let it take me this time.
# # # # #
"Yeah, that's it, let go fucker," I said as I held onto the nearly spent body. I could still taste his spunk in my mouth as I held him and looked up into his face. I watched as the light finally went out of his eyes, and felt the body twitch slightly against me. That's when I let go of the bearhug, and unbuttoned the fly of my jeans. Pulling my own hard and dripping cock out, I stood close and stroked, aiming at his legs. A minute or so of stroking was all it took and I was shooting thick ropes of cum on his legs and dangling feet.
After I got steady again, I went back through the woods to get the wheelbarrow back by the barn. When I returned, first I grabbed the camera and took a few more photos of the boy. He looked even more relaxed now. He still had a fat, hard prick jutting out from his crotch fur, the tip still a bit wet from his last cum. I got close-ups of that, and of his face with the blank stare and half-open mouth. He liked being in that position. That's why he was willing to try to see how long he could hang. He just didn't count on me wanting him to snuff him today.
I untied the rope from the tree and the boy dropped into the wheelbarrow, with a little help from me. I slipped the noose from around his neck and then carted him off to the place behind the barn where the grave was dug and dumped him in, face-down. Soon he was covered with dirt so he could have his nice long nap.
And tomorrow, I was going to start training another guy to do what this boy did.
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