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Message-ID: <28959asstr$982588201@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "A. P. Damien" <APDamien@mediaone.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} ASA Story: Do You Want to Try? (M/F, nooseplay, mild) (REPOST)
Date: Mon, 19 Feb 2001 08:10:01 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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This story was written by Gallego.  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 necking while
standing
on a gallows with a noose around her neck.  Weird ending.

			Do You Want to Try?
			    by Gallego
			gallego@u.washington.edu

"Well, do you want to try it?"

"Do I want to try what?"

"That.  Do you want to see what it was really like?"

"Do I want to see what it was like to be executed?!  To be 'hung by the
neck until dead"?

"Look , its perfectly safe."

"Safe! Wasn't this made to kill people?"

"NO, no, the dropping lever is disconnected, and the trap door was
nailed shut years ago." he said.

"Do you want to go through the motions and experience this first hand?"

"That's kind of morbid isn't it?"

"Well you seem interested."

"Well..."she said. " What is this tiny prison cell doing here?"

"It was a holding cell for the condemned prisoner.  Look , I could tell
you all about it but you wouldn't get the real feel for it unless you go
through it."

"You won't really 'execute' me or hurt me will you?"

"No, I love you.  But I think you will be suprised just how 'strong' an
experience this can be, even for a 'mock' hanging."  "Now I'm going to
treat you just like a condemned prisoner and I don't want you to break
character.  It will be good practice for your acting classes." he said
as
he unlocked the suprisingly sturdy door to the holding cell.  " There is
quite a lot of drama and ritual involved in this type of activity."

"Please, I trust you." she said, as she gazed longingly into the cold
damp chamber.

"I'm starting now" he said.  "Would the prisoner please enter the
holding
cell."

She bowed her head and whispered, "Yes officer", as she both heard and
felt the massive door latch tightly behind her.

	And now, here I stand on my tip-toes.  I'm held stiffly at
attention by this surpassingly rough and musty smelling hemp noose
around my throat.  Those 'cute' handcuffs are snugly locked about my
wrists, pinning my arms helplessly behind my back.  I had to nearly beg
my "prison guard" to scratch my nose.  Its unbelievable how just a
simple
set of locking bracelets can make a girl so helpless.  Being handcuffed
wasn't so bad though, it was the chilling lonely walk up the flight of
thirteen steps of the gallows really started  to put me "in the mood" if
you know what I mean.

	I know that this is a strange place to staying during one's
honeymoon, but this bed & breakfast/former prison of this old Eastern
Block country has excellent food, services and a wonder view.  And the
cost was very reasonable.  It seemed the perfect place to help me gain a
little insight into the history of a prison for my up coming movie part.

	The trap door I'm standing on creaked just a little when I was
made to stand on it, but it held quite firm under my weight.  Of course,
because of my petite stature or as my "guard" would say, because I'm
such
a shrimp, he could not adjust the noose low enough for me to slip my
head
into.  Lucky thing (lucky?) there was a tall stool up on the platform
for
just such occasions.  Even though the noose is now uncomfortably tight
around my throat, its probably safer than standing on that rickety old
stool.

	I can almost image the sneering mob below, anxiously awaiting the
final moment.  I am the center of attention.  The "executioner" begins
to
speak, listing my crimes against the state, the written law governing
this execution, and various other things I have trouble focusing on.  My
pitiful struggles are quite useless, and they seem to tighten the noose
further.  It's as if the noose is punishes me for each and every futile
tug at my bonds.

	My vision seems to tunnel and focus on the LEVER rising up from
the platform near the executioner.  I can actually feel my heart pound
harder and faster when ever he leans toward or makes any motions towards
the LEVER. The titime seems to stretch endlessly,  dragging on as my
fear
and anticipation multiples.  I wish it could be all over now, the
suspense is incredible and I want to scream for him to just do it and
get
it over with.  But all I can do is quietly whimper when he ever he
merely
gestures towards the LEVER.

	I have never felt such incredibly helpless before.  The fear,
anger, suspense, and yes, sensual excitement are alone enough to kill
this condemned prisoner, let alone the noose tightening about my frail
throat.

	He is turning towards me.  "..and May God have mercy on your
soul" he says.

I look into his eyes and imagine they are not the eyes of my lover and
best friend.  They are the cold stern eyes on a man about to kill me. 
An
incredibly wave of panic rushes through my body.  This is it, there is
absolutely nothing I can stop this madness.  He is asking me "Do you
have
a final request?"

My mind is numb, and my tongue is frozen.  My eyes flick from his eyes
to
the LEVER.  I can not die like this, with these horrible feelings of
fear, anger, hatred and helplessness inside me.

"May I have a final good-bye kiss?' I manage to squeak out.

He looks at me with first confusion and then a knowing look.  "So you
think you can persuade me with your vixen body?"

"No," I stammer, "I know now that this is truly the end of my life.  And
I know that there is nothing you or anyone else can do to stop this. 
And
I couldn't live with myself knowing that any mercy shown by you would be
swiftly punished by this exact same torture."

"Please," I beg, " it's only a small request and I want the last thing I
feel to be the loving touch of another human being."

	He bends over as I try to raise higher on my tip toes.  The kiss
is absolutely incredibly. If it wasn't for the hangman's noose, I would
have surely have lost my balance and swooned to the floor.  The love and
tenderness we share is endless.  But soon it does end and when I open my
I manage to whisper thank you as I see his arm quiver with readiness.

"Forgive me." the executioner says as he starts to pull the LEVER.

"I do"

"You know you almost were able to stop the execution single-handedly,
just with those eyes."

"I never though this could be so intense."

"You do look sexy standing there, and that kiss was your best ever."

"Flattery will get you nowhere.  Now please release me.  This noose is
getting tighter by the second, and my wrists have gone numb from these
silly handcuffs"

"All right, all right, but it will cost you a kiss."

"Oh , all right.  I love you"

"I love you too"

The quiet creaking from the trapdoor grew suddenly louder as he stood on
it, kissing his lovely new bride.  Neither heard the change in the
tone, but the sudden snap of the breaking trap door got their attention.


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

Did you like this story?  You can find more at
	http://www.nyx.net/~anon3a9c/fair/entry.ssi

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?

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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