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Message-ID: <38035asstr$1030569003@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: Thinking of Uwe (M/F, strangulation, mast, oral, consensual)
Date: Wed, 28 Aug 2002 17:10:03 -0400
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: He chokes her while she masturbates, then she gives him a
blowjob.
M/F, strangulation, mast, oral, consensual, non-lethal

				Thinking of Uwe
				  by Darlene


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

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




I was dressed for a few errands on a quiet evening. Nothing fancy, just 
one of my old skirts and a comfortable blouse. 

I met him at the bookstore. His name was Uwe. I was fingering the 
little mark on my neck when our eyes met, and he nodded. We went for 
coffee. He seemed to know without asking. That I wanted him, and what I 
wanted from him. And I knew what he wanted from me. I loved it when he 
touched my neck.

We walked to my apartment. Uwe took my keys and opened the door. 
Inside, he took me in his arms and undressed me. He pressed me to my 
knees and I made him very hard with my mouth. His clothes came off too. 
I guessed that he didn't want to come right away, and I was right. 

He tied me ankles to a chair and sat me down. My hands were tied to a 
belt he placed around my waist. He left me enough freedom to just reach 
between my legs. Standing behind me, Uwe stroked my cheeks and ruffled 
my hair.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Oh yes, Uwe."

"Do you want me to be gentle?"

I was worried he might crush the delicate parts in my throat, damage me 
beyond repair. But I knew, with Uwe, I'd find the excitement I longed 
for. Other lovers had been gentle. Too timid for me to take seriously. 
I had given up on them. I knew Uwe would see things through if I let 
him. He was dangerous, and he was what I wanted.

"No Uwe, give us what we both need."

Uwe put his left  hand on the back of my head. I touched myself. He 
placed his right hand under my chin, the side of it against my throat. 
I moved my fingers down below. It would happen now, and I was ready. He 
slowly pushed the side of his hand into to my throat. My breath was 
hoarse. I began to choke a little. When he heard my sounds, he pushed 
harder. I was very hot now, rubbing myself in a circle, finally knowing 
fear.

I felt Uwe lift his hand from the back of my head. His body nestled 
closer behind me, a rigid backstop above the chair. The fingers of his 
left hand grabbed the fingers of his right, still pressing against me. 
He used his left hand to pull the right even deeper into my throat. It 
hurt, and I was choking harder. I could barely breathe. I wanted him to 
stop, and I would hate him if he did. 

He didn't. The back of my head was forced against him. He kept his hand 
jammed into my throat for a very long time. Sometimes letting up a 
little to give me some air, then pressing hard again to cut it off. 
When he would push hard like that, my eyes watered from the pain. My 
fingers moved faster and my clit begged him for more. My toes dug into 
the carpet and pushed me back in the chair.

Finally he wouldn't let me breathe at all. Against my will I was 
struggling. Fighting for just one gulp of air. Uwe's grip was locked 
tight. He wouldn't let go. My pussy felt on fire as my body arched. I 
was close to an orgasm, but things were getting hazy. I could hardly 
see. There was a terrible and wonderful pressure in my head and lungs, 
a solid bar digging into my throat. My climax came as I was passing 
out. 

I don't think I was out for long. I came to, Uwe standing beside me, 
watching me gasp. When my breathing slowed I understood and opened my 
mouth. He put his penis in, and rocked slowly. I sucked him gratefully 
as he moved. Soon I felt his thick warm come splashing behind my teeth 
and covering my tongue. It tasted sharp and salty. I held it there as 
he stepped back, and opened wide for him to see. Uwe smiled when I 
swallowed. 

Uwe untied me and held me while I cried. Later we made love in my bed. 
Feeling him inside me, I lifted his hands to my neck where they 
belonged. I wondered, would he be there in the morning? And a darker 
thought. Would I?



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


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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