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Message-ID: <35370asstr$1014437408@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Keywords: hanging, strangulation, breath control, snuff
From: anon3a9c@nyx10.nyx.net (Damien)
Cache-Post-Path: irys.nyx.net!anon3a9c@nyx10.nyx.net
Subject: {ASSM} ASA story: An Entertainment (M/F, M/F, non-consensual, snuff)
Date: Fri, 22 Feb 2002 23:10:08 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


This story was written by Darlene.  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 story includes a description of somebody getting killed for
sexual pleasure - maybe the killer's pleasure, maybe the victim's.  
Either
way, this isn't milk and cookies.  If you don't want to read about such
things, go away and read another message.

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

Fourth, 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 to death 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 German officer raping a woman
while he strangles her to death with his hands.
M/F, non-consensual, snuff

			    An Entertainment
				by Darlene

Copyright by the author. Feel free to download this story, but do not
charge for its use..

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


A note to the reader:

What follows below is an extract from the journal of a German military 
officer. It is the first entry in the journal. The journal was found 
after the war in the French town which housed the officer's 
headquarters. It was translated into English by my granduncle, an 
American soldier. My grandaunt, who he met in that town, claims to have 
known the woman described in this excerpt. I have no reason to doubt 
her.

I must reluctantly admit that this portion of the journal, like other 
subsequent entries, both disgusts and excites me. A character flaw, no 
doubt. But I sometimes find myself wishing I had been an occupation 
official then instead of the young woman I am now. Maybe some of you 
will feel the same.

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

June, 1943

I wondered what entertainment Jervais had for me tonight. Our 
arrangement was simple. He got to keep his black market trading 
post/brothel open. As logistics officer for this part of occupied 
France, that was easy for me. I got an evening's diversion each week. 
With the emphasis on creativity and surprise. As long as he kept me 
interested, I'd keep him open.

Last week was disappointing. A three girl lesbian show. He'd done that 
for me before, and the girls were not expressive. I complained. Better 
next time or close up shop.

When I arrived, the elderly Jervais led me to a back room. He never 
fawned, I liked that, and he spoke fair German. He handed me a paper. 
It was a death certificate for one Marie Ducharmes, age twenty four, 
signed by a doctor and the local police.

"She's inside," he said, placing his hand on the doorknob. 

"What do I want with a dead woman?" I asked.

"She's not dead. Yet."

My first thought was to return his paper and give him a scolding. I 
knew what he was implying, and I was shocked. Then curiosity moved me, 
and I nodded to the door.

The room was about twenty feet square, with rose colored stucco walls. 
In the center stood a beautiful woman. Her arms were extended at 
shoulder level, wrists tied to the crossbar of a heavy wooden T shaped 
stand. Her legs were spread and secured at the ankles to rings bolted 
to the base of the stand. The base was several inches thick, raising 
her almost to my height.

She had dark hair tied in a pony tail and natural features that needed 
no makeup. Save a light gold chain around her waist she was entirely 
naked. A wonderful young body, medium pear shaped breasts, firm thighs. 
A pretty dark bush. Jervais knows what I like. She looked at us 
closely, but said nothing.

Jervais shrugged. He lowered his voice so only I could hear.

"I leave you now. The paper is already signed. Do what you will. 
Whatever you need is on the wall. If you prefer, someone else will 
finish up after you."

The wall he referred to held a few whips and various other instruments 
on small shelves and hooks. Jervais was prepared, and he had done 
better this time. I'd never thought of anything like this, but it 
certainly was intriguing. 

Alone now with the girl, I turned my attention to her. 

"Do you speak German, Marie?"

"Yes, a little. What are you going to do?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure yet. Do you know why Jervais picked you?"

"He said my husband cheated him," Marie replied. "Even if he did, it is 
not my fault. Will you let me go please?"

I thought about this for a long time. Finally, I told Marie the truth.

"No, I can't let you go. I could leave you, but there'd just be someone 
else."

I came closer and stroked her cheek.

"Don't worry about the whips and spikes. They don't really interest me. 
But I've always wanted to play with a woman however I liked. And your 
husband did cheat Jervais."

I moved my hand to her breast and fondled it. 

"Very nice."

When she tensed, I went lower and rubbed her pussy until I felt it 
become damp.

Going to the wall I took a black dildo from a shelf. It was slightly 
curved, like a real penis. I positioned it at her slit and thrust it 
in. Marie gasped. I worked it slowly until her hips began to move in 
response. She didn't say a word, just narrowed her eyes.

When I judged her well aroused and wet I removed the dildo and brought 
it to her face. I ran it across her lips, leaving a shiny coating.

"Lick your lips, Marie," I instructed. Still silent, she complied.

"Did you like that?"

"No."

"Maybe this will be better. Open your mouth."

Reluctantly she opened, and I inserted the dildo. When she had it in 
nicely, I began to push it into her throat. Bound as she was, the most 
she could resist was to pull her head back a little. I pushed the dildo 
down farther. When she started to gag, I wondered why I'd never found 
an opportunity to do this before.

I pulled the dildo part way out, and Marie's breath came fast. I liked 
the sounds. Putting a hand behind her head, I ran the dildo back down 
her throat until I found her gag point. Keeping it in this area, I 
repeatedly raised and lowered it in small increments, watching and 
listening as she choked and gasped. The panic in her eyes was 
wonderful. I'd never have thought I'd become so excited by this, but 
here it was.

Letting her choke just a bit more, I decided it was time to try 
something else. When I removed the dildo from her mouth, she shook and 
panted and sputtered something in French.

I waited until her breathing was under control, and returned the dildo 
to its shelf. There was a red cord hanging nearby, and I thought I'd 
try that next. Marie stared at me when I returned with it. As I began 
to loop it around her neck, she stiffened.

"Please don't use that." Her eyes were wide now. "Please, do something 
else."

I made a clucking noise while I figured out the best approach. Holding 
one end in my left hand, I wrapped the cord around her neck twice. 
Taking the other end in my right hand, I tightened it just slightly.

"Maybe we can try something else later. Let's see what this does," I 
told her. Marie was crying now. I have to admit that made it even 
better. 

When I pulled on the cord with both hands it pressed into her neck. I 
pulled it as tight as I could. Her mouth opened and her eyes became 
even wider. She didn't make a sound. Her face turned pink then red. 
This was making me very hard.

In not much more than a minute, it was obvious Marie had passed out. 
Too soon for lack of air to do that. I must have cut off the blood 
flowing to her brain. I unwrapped the cord quickly. It had been 
pleasant, yes, but I didn't want to finish her that easily.

And I realized then that I was going to kill her. Up to that point I'd 
let myself believe I'd just play with Marie and walk away. Facing up to 
it, I was surprised I felt no guilt. I was learning about myself.

I smoked a cigarette watching her return to consciousness. She blinked 
a few times.

"I thought you were going to kill me with that. You're not, then?"

I had to think again. Should I tell her what would happen, or provide a 
kind deceit? No, she had a right to know.

"Not with the cord, Marie. But yes, I am going to kill you."

I expected her to crumble, but she remained stoic. Just a few more 
tears.

"I thought you would. How will you do it?"

"I'll use my hands."

"I'm only twenty four."

"Yes Marie, I know."

I took off my shoes and pants and came close. Positioning myself, I 
thrust into her pussy. I held her shoulders and started a slow rhythm. 
She looked into my eyes, said nothing, but began to rock her hips. I 
put my hands around her lovely neck .

"Please, no," she whispered, still looking at me. She had such a pretty 
voice. 

Holding my cock still, I laced my fingers behind her neck and explored 
her throat with my thumbs. I found the pulses of her arteries on both 
sides. They were closer to the center than I would have guessed. I'd 
have to be careful around them so she wouldn't pass out too soon. I 
wanted to close her windpipe and cut off her air, not her blood supply. 

"Ready Marie?" I asked quietly.

"No. But I suppose that makes no difference."

"No, it doesn't," I murmured.

Resuming my pumping, I started to press gently into her throat with my 
thumbs. Marie made little noises and responded strongly. Soon she was 
pounding her hips against me. Still getting a little air, her breath 
was rasping. I could feel it under my thumbs. This went on for a while. 
I think we both enjoyed it in our different ways. 

When I sensed she was near climax, I pressed my thumbs into her throat 
much harder. 
I could feel something in there fracture and break. The pain was clear 
in her eyes as her body shook with her orgasm. 

I held her tight now and she began to struggle. She was fighting for 
air, which she couldn't get, and fighting against the pain. Her  face 
was dark and mottled, almost blue. The thrashing in her hips was very 
exciting. I couldn't control myself any longer, and I came with a rush. 
Before my pulses finished, she'd passed out again..

Marie was unconscious, unable to breathe, but still alive. I didn't 
know how long this would take, and my hands were getting tired. I 
thought about letting her go and twisting the cord tight around her 
neck again. But she had begged me not to use the cord, and I would 
respect her wish now. I persevered with my hands. A few minutes later 
her body shook and quivered. Her death throes. Then she was still.

I left her there in the room. Jervais would be confused when I asked 
for a similar entertainment next time. I'd told him last week I didn't 
like repeats.



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


Did you like this story?  Why not
<A HREF="mailto:Darlene29x@hotmail.com?subject=Ambivalent">
write Darlene</A>?  Remember, feedback from the readers is the
only "payment" the author gets.

You can find more at
	http://www.nyx.net/~anon3a9c/fair/entry.ssi


But if you think stories about people getting strangled during sex -- 
and
enjoying it -- 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?
-- 
A. P. Damien
Replies directly to this address will NOT be anonymized.

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