Photo: Say cheese! Uh, maybe not...

Damn paparazzi....
(Kansas, 1894)

Story: Mark and I

I was out at the park on a day off last week. It's a big park but most of the visitors stay near the picnic areas. Out on the trails it gets very remote. That's where I went to go exploring. It was a warm day, not too warm but warm enough for my outfit: a tanktop, cutoffs, and hiking boots. It wasn't long before I stripped off the tanktop and stuffed it through a belt loop, so I could feel the sun and air all over my torso. I'd been out for about an hour or so and got to a part of the area I hadn't seen yet. It was very pretty, with lots of big old trees, a few different kinds. At one point, I looked into the woods from the trail and saw something not quite right. It looked like a person, but naked, and unmoving. I had to go look.

The closer I got, I could see it was a guy with tousled hair, average height and, yep, buck naked. I could also see he was hanging from one of the old oak trees back here. My heartbeat increased as I got closer. Finally I was in front of him. The knot in the rope was slightly off-center behind his head, which caused his head to dangle down at a slight angle. His eyes were open and staring empty down toward the ground, and his mouth was slightly open. Along with his shaggy hair he had a short, untrimmed beard that hid the noose slightly. I could still see how the rope was dug into his neck pretty deeply. He had nice meaty shoulders and his torso was lean and tanned, with a good bit of chest hair that led down to his crotch. The fur there surrounded a thick uncut cock whose head was just peeking through the foreskin; the cock dangled in front of a tight pair of balls. His hairy legs dangled free, still showing off good musculature even though they were relaxed. His feet were about a foot and a half off the ground, toes pointing down but nowhere near close enough to the ground to do him any good. A three-step ladder lay flat on the ground slightly behind him.

What should I do? Maybe I should get him down, but ... well, it looked like that wouldn't help him a whole lot. He was awful still, just dangling from a good thick rope tied to a stout branch. I looked back up into his face, which was utterly calm like he was asleep with his eyes half-closed, totally relaxed. Yeah, this fucker was dead, all right.

I looked around. We were alone back here. It was even too far for most human noises to reach, so I could hear a few birds, though none very close, and the breeze in the top of the trees. A pile of clothes was on the ground by the tree trunk. It didn't look like much more clothing than I was wearing myself. His buck-naked body looked fine, although the color was a bit off from the usual human flesh. I couldn't help but look at how his cock arched over his furry balls. It was the sort of cock I liked to have in my mouth.

Before that thought got any further, I walked around to see his backside. His hands were cuffed behind his back, resting just above his hairy ass. I let my eyes trace the lines of his muscular back up to the neck and shaggy head, then up the rope to the branch where the rope was looped and tied. The branch was about two feet over his head. The cuffs made me start thinking about whether he might've been murdered here. But that hadn't been my first thought, since I'd been known to put cuffs on myself too. I had a thought that maybe I could go check the pile of clothes to see whether I could find a wallet or anything. But as I moved so I could see his front side, I caught another view of his angel-lusting cock.

"Shit, dude, that looks so good..." I said to myself quietly.

"You don't know the half of it," I heard. That shocked the shit out of me. I looked around.

"Don't worry, man, you're OK." Somehow I knew whose words those were. I looked up, and the dead dude's face was still the same. How the fuck he was speaking to me, I don't know. Maybe it was telepathy or something.

"You did it yourself, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah. Been going back and forth for a while... today I decided, what the fuck."

I didn't know what else to say, except "Cool." Then, "How long've you been here?"

"I got back here around noon. Took my time setting things up. Was still kind of waffling, I guess. But I got on the ladder and got the cuffs on, that kind of sealed things for me." I just listened, kind of staring at his slack, furry belly. "After that, I took a few deep breaths, just soaking as much up as I could.... then took the last step."

"Must've been something," I said.

"It was ... fucking amazing, hanging from this rope, feeling myself spinning. Didn't hurt like I thought it would. I had maybe a minute when I could really feel what it was all like, strangling and dangling and all... then it felt like I was having an orgasm, and I blacked out."

"But now you're talking to me," I replied, though he wasn't really talking.

"Yeah... I kind of came to, only now I could see ...myself, hanging from the tree. I was twitching and jerking, even though my eyes were dull and I didn't have any hope. Then there was one more jerk, and my body just hung limp and stopped moving." He paused. "Eight minutes, it was all over."

"Dude."

"Yeah. Now I'm fucked, but I don't care."

"No coming back now."

"Nope."

I finally worked up a little courage and reached up to stroke his bearded face. Then I ran my hand down his chest to his belly.

"How does it feel?"

"Oh," I said, "well, you're still a little warm. Feels fine."

"Go further."

"Further, huh?" I knew what he meant. I let my hand fall into his crotch fur, kind of stroked his cock, reached under it to his balls. I cupped his balls gently as if I could hurt him. I couldn't help staring at his meat, though. Goddamn, what a cock.

"I'm not gonna stop you, now, am I?"

I looked up into his dead face. What the hell... I lifted up his cock and touched my lips to it. The tip tasted a bit salty. "That would probably be the stream of piss when I blacked out, what's left of it," he said. I didn't mind. I first wrapped my lips around the head, letting my tongue play around his foreskin for a while. Then I slowly took the shaft in, sucking it so far my nose was in his pubes. His scent was pretty strong, real musky and sweaty, and that turned me on. Of course sucking his cock didn't make it harder, but it filled my mouth just fine. I sucked it hard, and somehow pulled some juices out of it. My own juices were leaking from my cock, which was poking out the leg of my cutoffs. While I sucked I pulled him against my body, and his legs brushed against my crotch.

I lost track of time. But eventually I let go of his manhood and just grabbed him in a hug with my face resting against his chest.

"You liked that?"

"Yeah," I said, and I felt like a fuckin' pervert.

"Don't worry about it, man. I'd have done the same thing."

I held him for a long time. I was thinking about ... things. "You really better off, you think? Killing yourself like this?"

"You wanna find out?"

I couldn't answer for a long time. Was I really that curious? I couldn't say that I hadn't thought about the whole noose as a sexual aid thing before. I had thought about it a lot, in fact. Even wrapped a rope around my own neck a couple of times while jacking off. Never did it like this dude though.

"You probably aren't gonna believe this, but I brought two ropes -- wasn't sure which one I'd end up using."

"Naw, you figured you'd get some company, didn't you?"

"Heh. It's over there under my clothes." You could even use the cuffs - the key is in the pocket of my shorts over there. What the fuck."

The silence went for a long few moments. "What the fuck, yeah." I said.

I let go of him and went over to the clothes pile, and under everything there really was another rope coiled up. It looked like about ten feet long and maybe a little thinner than his rope--twice as thick as clothesline, though. It even had a noose tied in it already, not a hangman's knot with seven turns, but a simple slipknot -- it would work for sure, anyway. Then I rummaged through his shorts over by the tree and found his wallet first. His license inside gave me his first name, Mark. I put the wallet back in its pocket and then found the handcuff key in another pocket. Returning to Mark, I took the cuffs off his wrists. Then I got up and went back to where the ladder lay on the ground, and set it up a couple of feet from him. Climbing the ladder, I tossed the long end over the branch, adjusted it so the noose dangled in front of my face.

"Make it so you have to stretch up a little to get your head through it," Mark suggested. "You won't drop so far." I did that, then tied a square knot around the tree limb. I stepped down to get a look at the empty noose dangling, waiting for me. I was breathing pretty hard because of the excitement.

"Hey, should I get naked?"

"Dude, it's your party. But yeah... you'll look better naked."

I stripped off my boots, and shorts, with my tanktop still dangling from the belt loop, and put them in a pile next to his. "That's more like it," Mark said. It turned out we were going to be facing each other. I looked at his dead body and groped my fat cock and balls and grinned nervously, realizing how I would end up just like him very soon.

I stepped up on the ladder... reached up and grasped the noose... took a minute... then slipped it over my head. I snugged it around my neck. Involuntarily I swallowed and felt the rope against my Adam's apple. It felt good, actually. I adjusted it slightly so it nestled above my Adam's apple. Goddamn, I was excited. My cock was dripping even though it wasn't quite hard.

Cuffs... one was around my left wrist already. If I put the other cuff on, that'll be it. There won't be any other way out, than the way the last guy wearing this noose went.

"Go on, man. You want it, you know it."

"Yeah." And I fumbled with the cuff, finally getting my right wrist encircled behind my back. Then I tossed the key behind me and it landed in the grass. I was committed now, unless someone walked by. About that time, it hit me how fucking big this was, how I was about to snuff myself, just like Mark did a couple of hours ago. How I was going to be found hanging here, dead and cold and stiff and naked, by some hiker or park ranger. And just how much I really wanted that.

"Thing with this place," he said, "when I found it, I knew I never wanted to leave. I was coming here regularly for months. I knew no one else every came back here. Just this one suicidal fucker, me. Well, and you, too."

I stood on the ladder feeling a soft breeze caressing my naked body. With my hands cuffed behind me, there was a strain in my shoulders to go along with the cold metal biting into my wrists. I wished I could see myself like this. I looked over at Mark and saw everything, though. My heard thudded, excited and scared and aroused. I never wanted anything more in my life than this, right now.

"It'll feel better in a few minutes. Do it."

I took a couple of deep breaths. I looked down, saw my belly, my cock, my feet, and the grassy ground under the ladder.

"Do it!"

I pushed with my toes, and the ladder fell back behind me to the ground. The rope caught me quickly after I dropped maybe three inches. I'd just fuckin' hanged myself. I felt like I was floating, and the woods spun slightly around me. The rope had a hold of my neck hard, and I knew it was killing me, but it didn't hurt, really. I tried to take a breath, and it took a lot of effort to pull the tiniest amount of air through my constricted throat. The only noise I made was a gagging sound when I tried to say the word "Fuck!" I kicked my legs a little, mostly so I could spin a bit. A buzzing noise started in my ears, getting louder and louder.

Then I felt it... it was like a blanket coming over me. The woods started getting darker and my thinking got fuzzy. I was blacking out. That made me panic, and I started struggling. But by then it was too late. My body tried to fight, but my brain faded away while I heard the words "let it go.... let it go...." and I did let it go. It felt like I was cumming, only a hundred times bigger than ever, and then it was over. I felt my head drooping forward, and the last thing I saw was the ground as everything went black. Suddenly I could see the scene. I watched my body struggle, trying to get loose from the murderous rope, and then slowly give up the fight and relax into the noose's hold. It kicked one last time, and then piss streamed from my fat cock down my legs and onto the ground, mixing with Mark's piss there. The woods were quiet. My naked body dangled next to Mark's our toes pointed toward the ground, fat cocks dangling between our legs. My tongue poked out slightly between my lips, lifeless eyes staring at the ground. In a few hours, we'd both be cold and stiff.

I could feel Mark's presence. "Awesome, eh?"

"Yeah," I said to him. "Fuckin' awesome."

A more formal hanging

Another hanging from the nineteenth century, but one planned out in advance unlike the other photos I've posted. My guess is that the drop this gentleman took probably did not break his neck, since he only dropped three feet or so. (Wish I had more information on some of these pics, but when you get them from the Internet you can't ask for a full bibliography.)

Story: Buying Rope (Part 1)

Man, was I nervous as I pulled into the parking lot of the army surplus store on the outskirts of town. I always got a little excited going there, because they had lots of interesting stuff there. Not just army surplus, though that was a big part of their stock. They also had camping gear, hunting and fishing equipment, and rugged outdoorsy clothes and boots. I could spend an hour in there looking at stuff, even if I didn't buy anything. They did get enough of my money, though; over the last couple of years I've bought a backpack, some camping gear, combat boots, and a pair of camo pants. I was wearing the pants and the boots today, too.

Yeah, I liked buying the camos. They fit just right and I actually threw a partial woody in the darkened fitting room (there was no light fixture, but the partial door let in just enough light to see, and gave just enough privacy). And then the boots, naturally, gave me trouble - I actually wore a jockstrap that day to keep any boners in check. But I was going to a dusty corner of the store today where the rope and other yard goods are kept. I knew exactly what I wanted rope for. And I was going to have to ask a clerk to help me get it. Good thing I had a jock on this time, too.

I sat in the car after I parked it in the store's lot for a while, trying to get myself calmed down. They sell the stuff, I reasoned. There's lots of reasons for people to buy rope. Even thick rope like I'm looking for. Besides, I'm not going to do anything extreme with it. Just play it cool and it'll be OK. They aren't going to ask any questions.

Finally I got out of the car and went into the store. The smell of the place hit me as I opened the inside door - musty, mostly, from all the surplus stuff that had been kept in army warehouses before the owner of the store got his hands on it. Visually, it's a jumble of a lot of different displays, things hanging on walls, stuff on overflowing shelves. Guns and compound bows down on the left, behind the counter where the ammo is; jackets and overalls on the back wall; in the middle aisles flannel shirts, jeans, work clothes, and hats; camping gear and surplus on the right. Way in the back were the boots, the fitting rooms, yard goods, and the ropes. There weren't many people in here today, not like on weekends or especially close to hunting season.

I sauntered around the store, looking at different things, hoping that the floor staff wouldn't come up and ask to help me - even though I needed one of them to cut the rope, of course. I browsed through combat uniform hats, pouches that clip on to belts, canteens, daypacks. Slowly I made my way back toward the ropes and canvas and netting.

Everything was on big rolls or spools hanging on a couple of racks. I looked at the canvas and netting - they also had vinyl, if I wanted that. Then I turned and looked at the spools of rope. Nylon, both the really stiff kind and the softer braided kind, from 1/8th inch to 1 inch. Some of that looked OK. Not so much the stiff nylon; that looked like it would hurt way more than anyone would want. But the softer braided nylon ropes were nice. The thinner ones, 1/4 inch or smaller, I could see someone tied up with a few coils of that, white loops holding wrists and ankles tightly. Nice. Too much of that kind of thinking was going to stretch my jock out a bit. Next to the nylon ropes were hemp ropes, from 1/4 inch to 1 inch. The naturalness of hemp really appealed to me. There was a big spool of 5/8 inch hemp with about two feet dangling. I picked up the dangling end. It's soft, if a rope can really be soft... I mean not too scratchy, and flexible. Not like the 3/4 inch rope next to it that looked really stiff. This one, though, bet it would feel real good around my neck. God, how much would I need anyway, I start thinking....

"Can I get ya something?"

I looked up, trying not to look startled but he had actually surprised me. I kind of knew this clerk. His name was Scott and he's about 22, 23, average build, with a store-logo t-shirt and cargo pants on. I think he helped me find the boots, actually.

"Yeah. Think I'll take some of this," I said, trying to not sound too suspicious.

"Sure thing. How much?"

I looked at the price sheet on the wall for a second, but there was no way I was going to be able to calculate how much x feet would cost with my brain going spastic from the nerves. Besides, I needed 15 or so feet of it to do what I wanted, regardless of how much it cost.

"About 20 feet," I replied, padding my estimate.

Scott pulls on the end of the rope. "Sure you don't need 25 feet?"

"Um, yeah, better go with that." I looked at him, wondering why he asked that. Probably a standard question; always better to have a little too much for a project than not enough. I started feeling a drip from the end of my dick, even though it wasn't as hard as it was getting before Scott showed up. Scott measured about 25 feet, then got out a saw to cut the thick rope cleanly and quickly.

"This is a good rope. Good for most loads, won't stretch hardly at all," Scott said as he coiled up the rope. "Easy to tie knots in, too." Scott ran a piece of masking tape around the coil on one side, then on the other. On the second one he wrote the length and the price.

I nodded. "That's good to know."

"Definitely don't want the knots coming loose on you before you want 'em to." He looked up at me as he handed me the rope, and our eyes actually locked gazes for just enough time to where I started getting nervous again.

"Nope, sure don't," I replied in a kind of quiet voice, trying to keep it steady and calm. I wasn't exactly sure what Scott was up to. He was looking attractive to me, though. I'd noticed that before.

"Anything else I can get you?" he asked.

"Nope, think I'm all set," I said. Actually I wanted to spontaneously disappear, bill paid in a flash, so I could avoid further scrutiny.

"How are those boots doing for you?"

"Oh, yeah, they're great." I stuck one of my feet forward to show I was wearing them, which he probably had already ascertained. "Perfect fit, really comfortable."

"Looks good, man."

Scott reached into a pocket and pulled out a card. He scribbled something on the back and handed it to me. "If I can do anything else for ya, just give me a call."

I looked at the card. The front was the store's business card. The back was a phone number from a different phone exchange. I nodded and put the card in my jeans pocket. "Thanks Scott. See ya." I headed for the front, to pay for the rope.

The cashier just bagged it up in a large, thin black plastic bag, told me what to pay, and didn't make any comments, of course. A few moments later the rope was in the trunk of my car and I headed for home, trying still to calm down and also trying to figure out what Scott had been up to.

I parked my car at the apartment and took the bag inside, glad that I didn't see any of the neighbors. In the bedroom I took the rope out of the bag and looked at the coil. Twenty-five feet of 5/8 inch thick hemp rope was pretty heavy. I cut the tape off and let it uncoil at my feet. I held one end, and realized that I would have to do something to keep the ends from fraying or unraveling. But mostly I turned the rope over in my hands to feel it. I even made a loop, then held on to where the ends of the loop crossed over so I could se what the loop would look like if I had made a slipknot and opened the loop big enough to stick a head through.

Damn, I could feel my crotch getting tight and a little damp. I felt like I was in trouble, almost. And then I thought of Scott, how we looked at each other when he was talking about how you don't want the knots to come loose when you weren't ready for them to.

I held the rope in my left hand and with my right groped my cock and balls through the tight camos and jock strap. I was going to have spunk in my pants if I kept this up.

I put the rope down so I could strip off my t-shirt. Picking up the end of the rope again, I let it snake up my crotch, belly, chest, till it got to my neck. The rope made a loop around my neck, sliding all the way around and crossing over in the back. It was a little rough to the skin across my throat, but the thickness felt real good. Too good.

I looked to the right into the full length mirror on the closet door. Me, shirtless in tight camos and black boots, rope around my neck embracing my skin, running down my bare chest... a couple of quick thrusts against the hand at my crotch, and my cock was shooting spunk into my jockstrap. The spasms subsided and left me weak in the knees, so I lay on the bed, rope loose but still draped across my throat and torso.

Guess it's laundry day, I thought as I felt the wet spot cooling on my skin and seeping into the crotch of my camos.

Nooses and horses

Too bad Killin' Jim Miller is cut off in this pic, since the caption indicates he's the star here.

I'll probably post a story in a day or two.

Another historical pic

Someone actually posted this image to a bear newsgroup once years ago. Well, he is bearded.... It also appears in The American Frontier: Pioneers, Settlers & Cowboys 1800–1899 (Smithmark, 1992), along with a few other photos of strung-up desperadoes and lots of other words and pictures about the West in general.

Frontier justice

Wish I could give more information about this scene. I first saw this photo in a book at the local library back in the early 1980s. The title of the book was Frontier Justice but I don't remember the author or any other details other than it was about keeping the peace in the early days of the American West. I eventually got the digital version of the image from somewhere on the Internet.