Hanging Me

Dee displays an uneasy combination of compliance and reticence while her neck heals. She has told me that she forgives me and I leave my thanks in kisses across the still visible but fading evidence of her hanging, yet there's an undefinable quality in her eyes that wasn't there before and it makes me nervous. She looks at me strangely sometimes like she's in a trance. I try to laugh it off and tell myself that I'm imagining things, but I can feel something hiding in the shadows of her eyes — her twin orbs that appear too deep to see into very clearly.

She stretches out on the couch, naked as usual, beginning a new novel. I try to ignore her but find myself sneaking occasional glances in her direction. The tender folds where her lower abdomen meets with her thighs when her legs are lifted and bending at her knees, captivates my attention momentarily. My gaze skims the surface of her calves and ankles, flowing seamlessly into her elegant feet. They are so pretty and her toes so expressive when I am choking her. I also enjoy kissing them after she showers when they taste clean.

Her firm breasts relax but they don't sag or flatten out. At times I can almost tell what sort of material she is reading. Erotic books make her nipples stiffen and her attempts to muffle little sighs are only ruses through which I can easily see. If what she is reading is really hot, moisture collects on her pubic hair and glistens. I can usually detect a hint of her fragrance as it lingers in the air. But with her chin nearly tucked in to her collarbones, those sexy creases around her neck have become deeper, making their presence known to my burning eyes. They are still lightly traced, of course, but now their image has more definition. Just what makes them so attractive and compelling, I really couldn't say, but I find it intoxicating to take lingering glances on the sly while she reads, her lovely eyes lost in the pages of a magazine or book. Those two delicate Venus lines look almost deep enough right now to be felt should I pass my fingers gently along their pathways. With her chin so low now, the soft semi-circles lay buried in the flesh of her throat and only show up along the sides of her neck.

Dee's been so quiet since the noose held her in its velvet grip. Her voice is back to normal but she speaks in a soft, low tone now and at night she hugs herself to sleep. I get to look at her back until I nod off. She needs some of my sparks to get her engine up and running again but as the evening darkens into night, I can hear the regularity of her breathing indicating sleep. I roll over and drift into my own slumber.

I'm awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of a click and the feeling of cold metal encircling my wrists. My hands are behind my back and I'm shackled by handcuffs...helpless now and with a vengeful Dee in charge.

"What are you up to, Dee?" She replies with icy silence. "Dee, honey...?"

She busies herself getting me on my feet, and marches me down to the cellar. Oh God! — does she intend to hang me? She half drags me to the stool I placed her on last week. The rope dangles from the massive eye hook in the ceiling and the noose patiently waits for my soft, defenseless neck. Dee's face finally breaks into a smile as she runs her fingers across my extended throat, taking full advantage of the moment.

"Oh baby, yes!" is all she says, more for her own benefit than for mine.

Then she turns to me, her eyes connecting to mine. In their depths I can see a vision of my own death. No pity is betrayed by her twin orbs, only bitterness. They contrast unevenly with her smile and my fears spill over into panic.

Dee lights up a cigarette...hmm, that's strange...I thought she quit. She blows on the hot end until it becomes a burning red coal. She studies it for a moment, watching the threads of blue/grey smoke wind gracefully through the air. She takes another drag but doesn't inhale and then removes my handcuffs.

"Be a good girl, Michelle and climb up on that stool." She holds the cigarette menacingly close to my cheek. I do as I'm asked. "You know what to do next, don't you, honey?" I put the noose around my neck, my whole body shaking. She drags another stool next to the one I'm standing on and ascends it. Apparently, my angel has become my angel of death, her every movement brimming with confidence and grace. She inspects my throat in a manner more clinical than sensual. I can hear her heavy breathing and when she exhales, I can feel it against my hairline, producing a slight tickle. Leaning into me she kisses the noose, allowing her lips to brush the skin of my throat.

"It's going to hurt you right here, Michelle," she tells me, as her finger traces my highest Venus ring. She then licks it once and adjusts the noose so that it fits right over it.

"There...all set?"

She climbs down and steps back to survey her handiwork. I stand on the stool, my legs shaking, my entire body quivering. I feel a burning sensation in my eyes but no...I will not cry for Dee's satisfaction! No pleading from this girl! She moves her face down to my clitoris one last time, giving me a final electric probe from her tongue. Then, wrapping her arms around my tight quivering ass, she buries her face in between my legs and unceremoniously lifts me off the stool. I try to maintain my footing but my straining toes soon feel only empty space beneath them. Then she just lets go. I begin a slow spin as the velvet noose digs into my white neck right where she said it would and my body swings free.

Unlike Dee, I struggle immediately. I try to clutch at the rope, attempting to climb it. Dee giggles at my futile attempts to escape. My back arches and bucks wildly; my legs kick as I entertain Dee with my dance of death. The noose becomes a collar of fire around my neck and the burning pain in my lungs increases. I'm trapped in agony, flailing my arms about. Oh God Dee! Get me down , girl...please baby!

Dee smiles at the spectacle and with one hand she absently strokes her clitoris. "Choke, you bitch. Strangle and die!" she mutters to herself. The noose continues into bury itself in my softly ringed throat. My arms reach out blindly as I strangle. All of a sudden, Dee is standing right next to me, her lips against my glistening pussy and mysterious streams of pleasure intersects with the horrible pain. I attempt to grab onto her but she eludes me with a graceful turn and laughs softly. My tongue sticks out of my mouth as if I'm trying to catch snowflakes on its tip. A sharp crescendo interrupts everything as my cunt sends out splinters of jagged pleasure, tightly wrapped with strings of intense pain.

A hard whack vibrates the rope and then another...I heard Dee mutter, "Shit!" but it sounds like it's coming from a great distance. Another whack and I'm slipping to the floor. My razor blade knife hits the nearby coffee table with a clink.. I'm aware of a falling sensation but can't feel my body. Dee quickly unfastens the noose and kisses the side of my neck. Shock and uncontrollable shaking brings tears to my eyes; they burn a path down my cheeks. I sob without the ability to stop and Dee, all motherly now, tries to comfort me, rocking me back and forth like a baby. She checks my throat and tells me it's not too bad, but I can feel its fiery brand. Curling up into a self-protective ball, I continue to whimper.

"You'll be all right, Michelle...let's go to bed, OK?" says Dee, helping me to my feet. As we leave, I turn and catch a glimpse of the cut rope dangling from the large hook in the ceiling, the black velvet noose, harmless now, laying innocently on the floor.

"Come on, Michelle," says Dee and she plants a kiss on the center of my throat.