Who am I? Well, today I am Jolene. I am 5'4" tall, and 145 pounds. I am of "mixed blood," though a mix of what I will not say, so I have olive skin, and black hair. I keep my hair cut just below my jaw, and combed more less straight. As I stand on the stool, looking in the mirror, I see a woman who is, to put it politely, zaftig; or to be less polite, a little pudgy.
I am in the basement washroom of my apartment, building. I am here because, for one thing, there is a big sewer pipe running along the ceiling, that is held up with big metal staples. It is very solid. For another thing, there is the big mirror on the wall, that enables me to watch myself. Most important, there is an old metal drum by the back wall. I have placed a wedge under the door, and it is very late at night, so I am not likely to be disturbed.
I stand on the stood, naked. My clothes are on the folding table. I have pushed a rope over the sewer pipe. The end in front of my face is tied in a hanging noose. The other end has a loop tied in it. And that loop is around a pin I have fastened to the big drum. I have filled the drum with water, and put a plug in the hole I made close to the floor. A string runs from the plug to the rope. When I put tension on the rope, the string will pull out the plug, before the pin on the back takes the stress. The barrel will slowly drain, and when it can no longer support my weight, it will tip, and the loop will slip off of the pin, letting me down.
I tie a cord around my belly. I move the knot around to my back, so that the long end dangles down. Then I reach between my legs, and grab the end. I am eager, and my hands want to shake, so it takes a moment to tie the toy handcuffs to the end of the string. Gripping the string between my legs holds the cuffs in place for a moment.
Then I take the noose. To my surprise, it is difficult to push the noose over my head. It barely fits, and when I try to pull it down, not too much so it won't pull the plug yet, it tightens instead. I have to push my chin in, then lean my head over, and tighten the noose to the back. Well, I wanted the knot in the back anyway, so it would pull back against my larynx, not sideways against my blood vessels. Carefully, so I don't pull on the rope any more than I can avoid, I reach down, and grab for the toy handcuffs. My hands are trying to shake again, as I snap the cuffs around one wrist, then the other.
Now I am helpless. I look at myself in the mirror. Rope around my neck. Hands cuffed to a cord between my legs. Feet at least eighteen inches above the floor. God, am I turned on! I rock my hips experimentally, and feel the rough string dragging between my buttocks cheeks and the lips of my sex. It is scratchy, and I don't enjoy it as much as I had hoped. No matter.
The reason I tied my self this way is, of course, so that my fingers can reach between my legs. My fingers can stroke and caress along the tender warm flesh, and comb through the soft pubic hairs. I begin to breath deeply, with arousal. Eagerly, I probe with one index finger for the sensitive button of my clitoris, nestled in its fleshy hood. I note with distant amusement, that I groan slightly as the stroking of my finger fires bursts of pleasure in my belly. I am very, very aroused.
It's time. I know it's time. I have to do it now, or I will come before I can. I reach my toes for the edge of the stool. I look at myself in the mirror. Pudgy I may be, but at that moment, my image in the mirror is incredibly sexy.
I kick back on the stool, and it skitters away.
I drop a few inches, and the rope grabs me by the neck. I gasp. No, I try to gasp, but I already can't breathe! The rope has locked tight into the tissue of my neck, and my windpipe is being crushed. Unbelievable! It hurts, goddamit, it hurts! I am suddenly very afraid.
Then my eye sees the figure in the mirror. The woman in the mirror is hanging! Her neck is pulled up straight by the rope digging in behind her jaw, and her body quivers with her toes almost a foot above the cement. Oh, lord! That's me hanging! Oh ... My ... It . Is . So . Sexy!
My finger begins to furiously rub against my clitoris. The waves of sensation begin to flood my body. I hear rushing in my ears, and my vision blurs as tears fill my eyes. No matter. I am hanging. And, I am going to come!
The orgasm begins deep in my pelvis. I can feel the muscles of my body tensing. I unconsciously lift my knees, as if making room for a man between my dangling legs. The swelling orgasm rolls up over my body, and I close my eyes as I ride the wave. Fantastic!
I try to pant as the waves subside, but no air passes the crushing pain in my neck. I dangle limply, and turn my attention to the image of my hanging body as I can see it in the mirror.
My vision is slightly obscured. I feel as if I am staring through a gap in a fog. Tunnel vision. There I am, in the mirror. Head tilted at the top of the neck. Hands cuffed, slightly hiding the damp pubis between my legs. Skin sweaty from the force of my orgasm.
How long will it take before I fall to the floor? Beyond my body in the mirror I can see the water barrel. The plug did not come out! The little string is still tied to the rope, but it came undone instead of pulling the plug! The water will not flow out! The barrel will not tip over! The rope will not come free! I will not be saved!
Two minutes until brain damage begins. Five minutes until I lose consciousness. Death soon after.
What do I do now?
Take me to the Information Booth