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Message-ID: <28673asstr$980989803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "A. P. Damien" <APDamien@mediaone.net>
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 29 Jan 2001 23:06:51 PST
Subject: {ASSM} ASA Story: Hair Crisis (M/F, hanging, cons) (REPOST)
Date: Wed, 31 Jan 2001 20:10:03 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

This story was written by Jack Milton.  I (Damien) am posting it by
permission of the author.

   Listen up!  Yes, I mean you!

   There's a few things you gotta read before you go on to the story.

   First, there's sexually explicit stuff here.  If you're not old enough
to vote, go on to the next message.  Better yet, unsubscribe to this
discussion group.  Gwan, kid, shoo!  And that goes double if sexually
explicit stories are illegal where you are!

   Second, this is a work of <u>fiction</u>!  No actual people or animals
were harmed in the writing of this story.

   Third, don't try this stuff at home.  You could end up dead!  Over 200
people a year die playing with asphyxia in the USA.  That's not counting
the rest of the world.

   Remember, I didn't *make* you read this story.  If you think it's badly
written, that's one thing.  But if you don't like stories about people
getting strangled while having sex, don't blame anybody but yourself.

   Here's some blank space to give you a chance to skip to the next
message. After that, you're on your own.























   Summary: This story includes descriptions of a woman being hanged for
sexual pleasure, strangled while giving oral sex, strangled and hanged
during sex.  All consensual and non-lethal.



   Hair Crisis

   by Jack Milton

   c.  1996

   Melissa is the most beautiful woman I know.  It's not so much her
face--which is more handsome and square-jawed than classically pretty--but
her overall athletic good looks which makes her so attractive.  She's tall
and slim, but well muscled.  You could mistake her for an Olympic swimmer.
I've been hot for Melissa, since the first time I laid eyes on her.  A lot
of my time was spent dreaming of ways to lay my hands on her.  And I did
get the chance finally but it was nothing like I'd imagined.  There wasn't
any romance involved really.  It was pure sex, pure need, and Melissa had
some unusual needs.  So did I as it turned out.

   It was three weeks ago that I finally connected with Melissa, and it
never would have happened the way it did if not for a really bad-hair day.
Actually it was more of a hair crisis day for Melissa.  She'd just broken
up with her boyfriend, a wealthy jerk named Howard.  Howard, she discovered
was screwing a nursing student--a busty redhead with an obnoxious giggle.
His attitude was "Hey, so what?  It was nothing.  Just a diversion."
Apparently.  Howard need a lot of diversion, because he took her on a
vacation to Cozumel.  Melissa found out about it second-hand from a
girlfriend while they were away.

   Melissa was so distraught and insecure about her looks that she decided
to give herself a home makeover.  This was totally unnecessary, since she
was so good looking.  But Melissa felt ugly.  She opted for the platinum
blonde look.  Her hair was long and naturally dirty-blonde.  So she reached
for the bleach and a bottle of red wine.  The wine worked, but the bleach
did not.  She got drunk and her hair came through the ordeal looking like a
mass of dried straw.  Definitely not the look she had hoped for.  In tears,
she fled her apartment and headed for the Campus Pub.

   That's where I found her, red-eyed and morose, nursing a glass of
wine--the old red devil--in a darkened corner booth where she sat with a
silk scarf tied around her head like a babushka.  I'd always thought of her
as the athletic type and now she looked like some Russian peasant, a former
Olympian fallen from grace.

   I approached cautiously with two glasses of wine in hand and sat down
across from her in the booth.  I slid one glass over in front of her and
said "You look like you could use another."

   "You're damn right," she replied.

   "Why the scarf?" I asked, although I had a pretty good idea.  Shards of
straw hair were sticking out from the side of the scarf.

   For the first time Melissa looked at me.  She'd been crying for a long
time and she looked a bit puffy around the eyes.  She pulled the babushka
back to reveal her self-inflicted coiffure deformity.  It looked horrible,
like the scarecrow in Wizard of Oz.  I winced.  It was an automatic
response, and for a moment I knew for certain that I'd blown it with her.
What woman would be attracted to a man who thought she looked ugly?  But
she was not put off.

   "Wouldn't you cover your head if you looked like this?" she said.

   "I'd probably sue the hairdresser who did it," I told her.  "But it is
hair.  It will grow out.  Maybe you should get it cut short.

   "Yeah, real short," she replied with a sarcastic edge.  She sipped her
fresh glass of wine.  "I wish I could sue someone, but it wouldn't be any
hairdresser.  You see, I did this to myself." Then she sighed and I could
see a change come over her.  She was finished mourning her stupidity.  She
dabbed at her moist, red, eyes and smiled at me.  "Thanks for the wine."
She reached over and held my hand.  "You're right," she said.  "I think I
will cut it short.  I think I'll shave every damn bit of it off."

   "You sure about that?"

   "Yeah," she said.  "I am sure." She took another gulp of wine,.  "Where
can I get some shears?" The look on her face was dead serious.  She meant
it.

   I figured why not.  Her hair wasn't going to look any better short
because it was damaged all the way to her scalp.  So I made her an offer
which turned out to have far greater ramifications than I expected.

   "Well, I do have one of those old barber's clippers," I offered.  "You
know, the electric ones with a set of plastic comb attachments."

   "Great.  That's just what I need.  Do you want to assist me in the
operation?"

   I would have done anything she asked.  I just wanted to be closer to
her. "Sure," I said.  "The shears are in my apartment."

   "Let's go," she said, draining her glass.  She was immediately up and
out of the booth and leading me outside by the hand.

   Heading back to my apartment in my car, Melissa described the events
leading up to her self -destructive impulse and I was stunned.  "I can't
believe your boyfriend would even think of cheating on you.  He's got to be
a fool." I was right.  He was.  As it turned out, he had discarded the most
sexually adventurous woman I've ever met.

   When we entered my apartment, Melissa immediately noticed the chin-up
bar I'd set up in the bedroom.  My apartment was in an old building with
ten-foot high ceilings and I'd set the bar between two upright posts that
happened to have a series of pegs in them.  The bar itself was up high
enough to have to jump up to reach it.  And since the posts were about five
feet apart, I sometimes hung a Yucatan hammock--the kind made entirely of
nylon string--on them.  She appraised the bar, but said nothing.  I didn't
know what she was thinking.

   In my bathroom, Melissa tossed the babushka aside and grimaced at her
reflection in the mirror.  "God, I'm an ugly bitch," she said frowning.

   "Oh no," I corrected her.  "You're beautiful.  It's just your hair
that's been assaulted." That was the jackpot response.  I'd carefully
refrained from complimenting her looks, knowing for sure that If I'd done
so at the Pub she would have viewed it as a cheap come-on, and a lie at
that..  And she would have been wrong.

   Melissa hugged me and I hugged her back, tightly.  Then we kissed.  She
was a great kisser with a wide mouth and full, sensuous lips.  Her tongue
found it's way into my mouth and I began to get hard.  She didn't seem to
mind, because she pressed herself against my growing erection.  I thought
that we would get it on right then and there, but she wasn't quite ready
yet.

   "Bring on the shears," she commanded.  "It's time for my new look."

   "Are you sure about this?" I asked.  "You have been drinking."

   "I'm positive.  And it's not because of the wine."

   Who was I to deny her?  The barber's shears were stored in an old wicker
basket that held the few remaining personal possessions left by my late
father.  He'd been a barber for a while, back when I was a kid.  The shears
hadn't been used for years, but they still worked.  I plugged the cord in
and flipped the switch.  The shears came to life, buzzing evenly like a
turbocharged bumble-bee.  There were three comb attachments, ranging from a
depth of 3/4 inch down to 1/4 inch.  I held out the box and Melissa
selected the shortest of the combs.

   "Let's go for the buzz cut," she said.  "If any one asks, I'll say I
enlisted in the marines." She clipped the short comb onto the shears and
pressed them into my hand.  "I want you to do the honors," she said evenly.

   "OK.  But you'd better take off your shirt.  Hair in your collar can be
itchy as hell."

   "Right," she agreed.  And she unbuttoned her blouse and discarded it. 
Beneath the blouse she wore a skimpy tank-top that came down no further
than the bottom of her ribs and it showed off her breasts beautifully. 
Melissa's breasts were small but perfectly shaped and her generous nipples
stood erect under the cotton like a pair of little thumbs.  So we both had
erections there in my bathroom.

   She was indeed beautiful.  I drank her in like water for parched eyes.
She had beautiful collarbones--a too little appreciated part of the female
anatomy--and they stood out in relief against her pale skin.  And her neck
was long and graceful, stretching what looked like a foot from the lovely
hollowed base of her throat to her strong jawline.  I immediately noticed
she had a pinkish line, like a welt, circling her delicate neck, but I said
nothing.

   Melissa gathered up her hair in a bunch from the back and tilted her
head forward.  "Do it," she said.

   I clipped the comb onto the shears and flipped the switch again.  The
shears hummed, all business, as I guided the comb up from the nape of her
neck to make a two-inch wide swath halfway up the back of her scalp.  Well,
that was it.  There was no stopping now.  I continued working the shears
until she cast off a huge handful of dead looking hair.

   "I don't want to look until you're finished," she said.

   It only took a minute, but by then my bathroom looked like a scene from
an old barber shop--piles of hair all over the black and white tiles. 
Finally, I snapped off the shears and sat them down on the edge of the
sink. Melissa's head was perfectly rounded with no unsightly lumps or
bumps. Not bald, exactly, but damn close to it.  With or without her hair,
she was indeed a beauty.  She also looked a bit punk now in her tight
little tank-top.  I liked it.  It looked totally naked and slightly nasty.
Nevertheless, I had an instinctive feeling that she wasn't going to like
what she saw, no matter what it looked like.  And I was afraid that she
would forever hold me responsible for making her look bad, which meant no
more close quarters contact.  Momentarily I wished I hadn't offered to cut
her hair off, but it was too late to do anything about it now..

   "It's done.  You can look now," I told her, holding my breath for her
reaction.

   Melissa looked up and stared into the mirror.  The woman she saw was a
completely different person than she had seen that morning in her own
bathroom.  That woman had long silky hair.  This one looked more like a
convict.  She didn't frown though.  She was fascinated.  She ran her hand
over her head then turned her head to each side in appraisal.  Then she
turned her shoulders from side to side, posing the way women do when they
are checking out their makeup or outfit--which I've always found arousing.
Still not saying anything, she tilted her head back slightly brazenly
offering her tantalizing neck for display, like a fashion model posing for
a camera.  My erection was throbbing.

   "What do you think?" she said.

   I was so aroused that I fumbled for a reply.  "It's....I like it," I
finally blurted out.

   "So do I," she said.

   "It's very sexy," I ventured.

   "It makes my neck look so long." Melissa brought her fingertips gently
to her throat, tracing the pink welt encircling her neck.

   "How did you get that mark?" I asked.  "Did your boyfriend make that?"

   "No," she said.  "I did it to myself."

   I didn't understand, and she could see my confusion.

   "You see, I like to masturbate.  And when I do, I like to tie a length
of rawhide around my neck.  It makes me come so hard.  It's just my little
kink.  I like to be choked when I'm having sex."

   I thought my zipper would bust apart any second, my cock was so hard.

   "Would you like to touch me there?  Touch my neck?"

   I didn't say anything.  I just stepped behind her and placed my hands
around her throat.  Reflexively she emitted a deep, husky breath, which I
could feel beneath my fingers.  So I tightened my grip ever so slightly. 
Melissa closed her eyes, leaned her head back and felt behind her for my
hard cock.  She found it and rubbed slowly, fondling me through the fabric
of my jeans..

   "You wouldn't happen to have your favorite piece of rawhide with you?" I
asked.

   "No," she said huskily.  "But anything will do.  Have you got a piece of
rope, or a necktie?"

   "Yeah, I do." I was trembling.  I'd never had to courage to put
something tight around a woman's neck before, but I'd always wanted to.

   "Get it," she commanded.

   I dashed out of the bathroom and into my closet where there were both
neckties and several lengths of thick nylon rope that I used to hang up my
Yucatan hammock.  When I returned, Melissa had slipped out of her tank-top
and her breasts were standing out proudly, her nipples hard and full.  I
returned to my position directly behind her and cupped both breasts in my
hands.  She inhaled deeply and leaned back against me to rub her pretty ass
against my hard cock.  I felt like I could come any second, but I held off.

   "Do you want the tie or the rope around your neck?"

   "Let's do the tie first," she said.

   Without hesitation, I looped the tie around her pretty neck and pulled
it snug.  Melissa shuddered, staring wide-eyed at herself in the mirror. 
Fumbling behind her with both hands she managed to unzip my jeans and take
my erection in her hand.  She squeezed it firmly, which brought a groan to
my lips.

   "Tighter," she said.

   Slowly, I pulled the tie tighter.  "Tight enough?"

   "Uh uh.  Tighter." She squeezed my cock harder, as if to indicate how
tight she wanted it around her neck.  My cock was throbbing madly in her
grasp.

   I complied and pulled the tie tighter--tight enough to choke.  Melissa
opened her mouth and tried to inhale with her throat wide open.  Her breath
went in with a thick rasp, and it wasn't much of a breath.  So I pulled
tighter still, tight enough to completely cut off all air, and Melissa
stared bug eyed and open mouthed into the mirror.  I didn't know how long
she could stand being choked before she passed out, but she wasn't
resisting.  Instead she was jerking me off hard, sliding her tight hand up
and down my cock.  I stared at her reflection in the mirror, the tie so
tight around her long neck and the fluttering pulse there in the deep
hollow between her collarbones, and at her wide open mouth.  I could almost
look down her throat to where the necktie squeezed so tightly.

   "I want you to kneel in front of me and fill your mouth with cock now."
It wasn't a request but a demand.  I felt that I had complete control over
her and she knew it, and accepted it.

   She was ready to comply.  I released the tension around her neck and
allowed her to turn around.  Obediently, she knelt before me and held her
mouth open for me.  Placing one hand behind her head, I slowly placed my
cockhead on her offered tongue and pressed her head forward.  Melissa's
mouth was wonderfully hot and wet and welcoming.  She didn't suck on the
cock that filled her mouth until she felt it press into her open throat. 
She didn't gag at all.  Instead she pressed the swollen bar farther in.

   Since the tie was still wrapped around her neck, I jerked it tight and
her whole body shuddered.  Melissa began to suck my cock like a starving
animal who's only source of food is fresh, hot semen..  I released the
pressure around her neck, then I jerked it tight again.  Melissa's naked
head moved up and down jamming my cock in and out.  swallowing as deeply as
it would go into her needy throat.  So I began loosening and jerking tight
in a regular rhythm.  All the while, she kept pistoning my cock down her
open throat, never letting it leave her mouth to breathe.  She didn't need
to.  She had no trouble taking in air arond a mouthful of hard cock in the
few seconds between the repeated chokings I was dealing out.

   Normally, it takes a long time for me to come when my cock is being
sucked, but Melissa was the neediest cocksucker I'd ever met and I had to
hold off as hard as I could to prevent coming too quickly.  I managed to
hold off for three wonderful minutes until I couldn't control it.  Then I
started to come.  Melissa pulled back slightly until my cockhead was no
longer penetrating her throat, and she held it tightly with her lips and
swirling tongue while it pulsed and squirted, filling her mouth with an
enormous volume of semen.  She held my cock in her mouth for another minute
while I jerked and bucked.  Finally she let me slip from between her lips.
I wondered if her boyfriend Harold was crazy.  If she sucked his cock like
she did to me, he'd have to be insane to look elsewhere for sex.

   Melissa purred as she held the come in her mouth, and after a few
seconds she swallowed deeply.

   My cock had softened a bit but not completely.  This meant that after a
few minutes I could lay down on top of her, naked on my bed, and pump her
cunt--which I fully intended to do.  But Melissa wasn't ready to lay down
yet.

   "Let's try this now," she said, picking up the rope and deftly tying the
end into a hangman's noose.  She obviously had experience tying this knot
and I could imagine her placing a noose around her own neck and pulling it
tight while she masturbated herself in front of a mirror at home.  I bet
she made herself come hard and long every time.

   "OK," I said.  "But first I want you to turn around." I placed her
wrists together behind her back and wrapped the necktie around them, making
a secure and tight bond that she would not be able to get out of.  I
removed the rest of her clothes, then I stood her in front of the mirror
and dangled the noose in front of her.  "Now come with me," I commanded. 
And I guided her into the bedroom where the chin-up bar was waiting.  If it
would hold a big guy like me it would certainly handle her weight.  "Now I
know why you were so interested in this apparatus," I said.  Melissa
nodded, saying nothing.  I flipped the noose over the bar and tied it off
around one of the pegs.

   "That's not high enough," she said, observing that the noose hung at her
neck level as she stood on the floor.

   "No problem." I went to the living room where two sturdy applecrates
were stacked and filled with old record albums.  I hastily pulled the
records from the crates and brought them into the bedroom.  I placed them
below the noose about 18 inches apart and guided Melissa up onto them--one
foot on each.  Then I placed the noose around her neck, carefully setting
the noose just behind her left ear, and pulled it snug.  Watching the rope
tighten around her neck set my cock to throbbing once again.  I secured the
rope and stepped back to admire my handiwork.

   "Just a moment," I said.  Melissa looked so good there, naked and bound
with the noose around her neck, that I couldn't resist.  "This is a photo
opportunity if I ever saw one," I said, reaching for my Polaroid.  She
posed there for me, her pretty tits standing out like hard apples, her neck
stretched out and her head tilted slightly to the right from the pull of
the rope.  I could hear her breath, raspy under the tightness around her
throat.  Melissa offered her all for the camera, the sexy girl being
hanged. She turned her shoulders and stuck her breasts out for me.  I took
a dozen photos, laying them out on the bed as they popped out of the
camera, still undeveloped but the images slowly materializing.  Then I
discarded the rest of my clothes in a pile and stepped up to her.

   "You understand I'm going to fuck you while I'm hanging you," I told
her. I'm six-foot -three and Melissa is almost a foot shorter, so with her
standing on the applecrates our genitals were at the same height from the
floor.  I rubbed the head of my cock between her legs and felt that she was
dripping wet.  Her cunt was ready to be filled and she seemed to suck me
inside until I was buried completely in her.  Then she began pump.  I
stared down at her neck, stretched so high and tight.  It pulsed anew with
each breath she took in..  It was too inviting.  I placed one hand around
her neck and gently pressed my thumb into the hollow of her throat. 
Melissa groaned.

   "That feel good, doesn't it?"

   "Yes, sir," she said thickly.

   I began to rub my thumb against her windpipe, feeling her breath moving
inside, and she started coming.  She was pumping furiously, banging her
breasts against me and bowing forward which pulled the rope even tighter
around her neck.  She came hard, huffing lustily.  When her jerking body
quieted, I figured she'd want to be let down.  But I was wrong.  Melissa
wasn't yet finished.  Still impaled on my hard cock, she lifted one leg and
wrapped it around my thigh.  Then, carefully, she lifted the other and
wrapped it around me too.

   "Do my throat some more.  Please," she begged.

   "You like hanging, don't you,?  I said.

   "Yes, sir," she whispered.  And saying so, she started pumping again, I
fondled her throat with one hand, squeezing hard, and pulled at her nipples
with the other.  Melissa rocked hard for a longer time than before until
she came again.  After that second orgasm, I think she was probably ready
to come down.  She unwrapped her legs from me and replaced them on the
applecrates.  I gently slid my cock out of her and stood back to admire her
helpless beauty once again.

   I had planned to lay her down on my bed now and ride her until I came
inside her, but I couldn't stop myself from what I did next.  I slid one of
the applecrates to the center, directly below her and she immediately
placed both feet on it.  I removed the extra crate.  I knew I should let
her down now, but I didn't.  Instead, I kicked the remaining crate away
from her feet, leaving her dangling, by her neck with no support.  at all.

   Melissa's pretty mouth opened wide and her lips twitched, She kicked
wildly, her bound hands sticking out behind her, useless as she twisted and
danced.  Her body jerked furiously and I realized that she was coming
again. Not from fucking this time, but from the dangerous thrill of really
being hanged, I grabbed the Polaroid once again and clicked off four more
shots, expending the roll of film in the process.  I let her hang there for
another two whole minutes, until she stopped kicking and hung still,
admiring how beautiful she looked, then I untied the rope from its peg and
slowly lowered her to the ground.  where she lay gasping and purple faced,
the rope still so tight around her neck that she could not breathe.  She
was barely conscious anyway.  I loosened the noose and she immediately
gasped and started coughing.

   I untied her hands and carried her to the bed.  She lay there coughing
and gasping for a minute until she gained some of her composure.

   "You hanged me," she said, her voice rough and thick.  "You really
hanged my by the neck."

   "I'm sorry," I said.  I couldn't help myself.  Are you all right.?"

   She nodded, still coughing but clearly not injured.

   "Did I do the wrong thing?"

   "No.  You did what I wanted." Like a grateful child, she hugged me
tightly.

   I kissed her hard, crawling on top of her and penetrated her once again
with my iron-hard cock.  We fucked hard for a long time until we both came
again.  Melissa confessed that she always had fantasized about being
hanged, feeling thin air beneath her dangling feet.  She kissed me deeply
and thanked me for fulfilling the desire she had always kept secret, She
said that no man had ever touched her throat before like I had.  It was
also the first time anyone had tied her hands behind her back and she liked
that a lot.  She got herself all horny again talking about it.

   I was surprised when Melissa took my hand and placed around her neck
again, taking care to place my thumb firmly into the hollow of her throat.
"Just for a little while more," she begged.  "Please."

   I pressed hard, adding my other hand for leverage, "Let me know when you
want me to let up," I said.

   Melissa made no effort to stop me, offering up her lovely, long neck for
me to squeeze while I pumped her cunt like a piledriver.  It only took a
minute for her to come yet again, bucking wildly.  Then we laid there
naked, cuddled together on my bed until we both fell asleep.

   When I woke up it was already eight in the morning.  Melissa was gone.
She had taken four of the photos with her, two of her standing on the
crates, modeling for me, and two of her hanging and kicking suspended only
by the noose around her neck.  She'd also left a brief note.  It said "In
case I didn't say it enough last night, thank you for everything.  And I do
mean EVERYTHING.  Please call me." She'd jotted down her phone number.

   I called immediately but she wasn't at home.  I left a message,
including my own phone number, and she did call me back two days later.  We
went out together a lot for a few months.  I hanged Melissa quite a few
times during that period.  Then she told me that she'd been offered a good
job in Los Angeles and she was going to take it.  I was crushed.  I asked
her to marry me, but she didn't want to be married.  I had started a
business of my own here and it was starting to do well.  There was no way I
could relocate it to Los Angeles right then.  And so she moved away.

   We kept in touch for awhile, running up huge phone bills in the first
few months.  I even visited her in L.A.  once , and her hair had grown back
enough to have a sexy, boyish short haircut.  While I was out there I
hanged her from a tree in up in Malibu canyon and fucked her while she
dangled, no clinging to me for support and no crates to stand on.  She
kicked and jerked at the rope's end for a whole four minutes until she lost
consciousness.  And she recovered unharmed.  But that was the last time. 
She got a promotion and she moved north to Vancouver, and I didn't hear
from her again.  I was heartbroken.  I was terribly in love with her.  I
would gladly have dumped my business to join her in a second by then but it
was too late.

   A year later, I got up on the world wide web and found out how to
download photos from various sex newsgroups.  Last night I downloaded a
bunch of bondage photos and there among them were two shots of Melissa, one
of the pictures I had taken that first night hanging by her neck and
another of her bound and wearing a ball gag.  I'm searching for her
whereabouts now, but nobody seems to know where she is, since her photo was
submitted anonymously in a photo exchange.  Maybe you've seen these shots.
If not, if you're lucky, maybe you will.

   ==========================================================

   Did you like this story?  You can find more at

   http://www.nyx.net/~anon3a9c/fair/entry.ssi

   The author would also like to hear about it.  You can write me and I'll
pass it on to the author.  Remember, feedback from the readers is the only
"payment" the author gets.

   But if you think stories about people getting strangled or hanged, even
killed, during sex are icky and shouldn't exist, don't come whining to me.
Why did you read it if you don't like stories of that type?

   

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