Crystal’s Nooses (M/F)

[StringTheorist]

Crystal’s Nooses (M/F)

Warning. Many of the TUGs in this story are dangerous and should not be tried in real life.

The red canoe rounded the corner of the point of land and caught the man on the dock by surprise. Quickly he wrapped his large red towel about his middle, then stood while the canoeist manoeuvred her craft alongside the pipe dock extending from the wooden crib at the shore.

“I came to say thanks for finding my canoe after it blew away the other day. Some of my neighbours were kind enough to return it for me. The knot must have come undone.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” John said, “I saw it along our shoreline down in the bay, and knew someone would come looking for it, so I just tied it up to the dock. Sure enough, someone came for it, but I was away when they did. There really was no need for you to canoe all this way. By the way, my name is John and I am glad no one fell out of it or had landed there to take a hike. But the painter was in the canoe, and it was held against the shore by the wind.”

“I’ve seen you before, in town, in the grocery store. You seem to prefer Crystal as the cashier.”

“Oh.” Crystal was a young cashier; the rest were older women. “The real reason is that my debit card works well in her machine, not reliably in the others. Nice of you to notice.”

“That’s my name too.”

“Crystal. That’s nice. Reminds me of my rock collecting days. Would you like something to drink? I have some ginger ale, cold water, or some Canadian beer.” Then he could get some clothes on.

“A beer would be nice,” Crystal accepted, climbing out on the dock and securing the painter of her canoe.

John returned in a couple of minutes wearing shorts, a casual shirt, and carrying two bottles and one glass. He noted the slim figure of a trim, fit looking lady on his dock whose tan disappeared under the sleeves of her blouse and cuff of her shorts. Sturdy sneakers. Mid to late 30's with no sign of a motherly figure. Fairly tall, well endowed, strong appearing limbs without being a steroid freak.

“Thanks. For once it is hot and sunny, not like all the rainy, humid weather we have been having.”

John checked the hitch on her canoe. “Yes, but more rain in the forecast for tomorrow, but clear tonight. I need some more good weather. Today I was bringing some firewood out from where I cut that tree,” he replied, pointing to a thirty-foot log wedged up on the shore. “It’s to replace the logs supporting the causeway up the bank from the dock. There is another log that I need to get out.”

“I suppose that you built the dock as well?”

“Parts. My youngest brother and I replaced the crib several years ago.”

Crystal looked at the way the logs in the crib fitted tightly together. “Neat. You’re very handy.”

“A change from pushing paper. Are you new to the lake?”

“The short story is that I have been taking care of my ailing father for a few years. Some friends of his invited me up to their cottage after his funeral, to stay as long as I like. They’ve left. It’s the third cottage along from the narrow point. Previously, I was a journalist; now I’m at loose ends.”

“I’m sorry about your father. He’ll be at peace now.”

Crystal had been looking at the long, brown rope, three eights inch diameter, flaked out along the dock, and picked up one end, a little thicker than the main part. She felt the roughness of the sisal then asked, “What do you use this for?”

“I pulled the log through the water from down the shore and flaked it out on the dock to ensure that it dried well, to avoid rot. I also used it to help drag the log out of the bush, and to put a tension on the tree to make it fall where I wanted it to.”

Crystal had been looking at the end splice that neatly terminated one end of the rope. “Did you make this knot?” she asked.

“Possibly. It’s relatively easy to do an end splice, harder to do the eye splice at the other end. My brothers can splice as well, so I can’t recall just who did this one. It’s probably 20 years old.”

“I guess you know your knots.”

John shrugged modestly, “I know some knots, and know that there are many that I don’t know.”

“Do you know how to make a noose?”

“As in hangman’s?”

She nodded.

John took the end from her and in a couple of jiffies had produced the required item. “Like to be able to make one yourself?”

“Sure, why not.”

John untied the noose and gave the end of the rope to her. As the other end of this rope had a loop, he took the end of one of the ropes tying his aluminium boat to the dock. He went through the process, step by step, showing her, then having her follow. Soon there were two nooses. He had her undo her knot and retry until she could make one without instruction and without a pattern to follow, but she was having a little trouble getting it good and tight. Finally, she asked him to make another one so she could see just how tight.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to tell what I did this afternoon - made a noose for a lovely young lady.”

Crystal laughed, adding, “A noose for a loose lady.”

The beer had gone, so John asked her if she wanted another, and left to bring down the refills. To his surprise, she was standing with the noose in the long rope about her neck, snugged up, but not constrictive, and her hands were secured behind her back with the noose John had made in the yellow polyethylene rope for the boat.

“You have 1 minute to come up with a story of what you would do with a damsel in these circumstances,” Crystal challenged.

ST

MTC

[StringTheorist]

Previously:
The beer had gone, so John asked her if she wanted another, and left to bring down the refills. To his surprise, she was standing with the noose in the long rope about her neck, snugged up, but not constrictive, and her hands were secured behind her back with the noose John had made in the yellow polyethylene rope for the boat.

“You have 1 minute to come up with a story of what you would do with a damsel in these circumstances,” Crystal announced.

Continuation:

“Oh, that’s easy.” John changed the pitch of his voice, “The female prisoner is to be executed at midnight. She is guilty of such a heinous crime that there is no popular support for clemency. The governor has indicated no intention of using her prerogative to commute the death sentence. The press is chasing other issues, and all avenues of appeal have been exercised.

“The prisoner has not been a model prisoner. She has been put in the hands of the guards, who only need to provide her for the execution with an intact neck and keep her secured. No witnesses are going to be present, and the prison doctor doesn’t give a damn; he’s already signed the death certificate.”

John stopped and looked at Crystal.

“My, you have a fertile imagination. Would you like to make lots of nooses for a loose woman? For securing this woman, a different set of nooses per hour, for the next 10 hours, until midnight, execution time?” It was about 2 in the afternoon.

“Oh, I think so. What then? An execution?”
“Oh, no. I just go home.”

“Any rules?”

“No intercourse. Nothing life threatening.”

“OK. There needs to be a system of sounds for safety. One sound from you to a question means no. Two yes. Three anytime means stop. Four means you want to talk. Anything over four I’ll ignore. Is this OK? Repeat them back please.”

Crystal did.

“Do you wear contacts?”

One groan. No. “Why?”

“So they don’t fall out and get lost.” “But also,” he thought, “not something to be a problem for a blindfold.”

John asked her, “Why are you doing this? It seems odd, considering that you have only seen me for a few minutes, drunk one of my beers. I could be a perverted sex maniac underneath.”

“You intrigue me. You showed care for a stranger’s boat and seem to be a sensible handyman. I wanted to see what your imagination is like. I like your skills, capabilities, common sense, frugalness, as shown by the age and care taken with the rope. When you came out with the execution scenario so quickly, well, I then had to go through with it. You better come up with ten good ones.”

“You’re on. I’ve a digital camera; if I please you, I’ll keep the pictures, otherwise I’ll erase them.”

“Deal. As long as I have a noose on in some way, I won’t escape even if I could.”

“Wait here for I need to get my camera and some more ropes. I doubt if anyone will come along, but then you surprised me...” He left the rest unsaid.

Two nooses

A few minutes later he returned with more of the brown sisal rope, white nylon rope, his camera, several pieces of cloth, a roll of grey duct tape, and a sharp knife. First, he snugged up the noose on her wrists and knotted the yellow rope so that the noose securing her hands wouldn’t slip; then he took a few initial pictures.

John set out to create nooses in four of his long brown ropes he had brought out. He knotted up one of the thicker pieces of nylon rope; it looked like a noose with another loop out the top, and a very large number of turns in the knot so that the spiral portion was about 10 inches long.

“What’s that?” Crystal asked, intrigued.

“Oh, a double loop noose. I put the long end of the rope, the running end, back through the body of the knot in the other direction before I wound the spiral of the body. One can tighten the first knot by pulling the loop of the second, then tighten the second as well by pulling this part, the running end.” He grabbed his camera to record the knot.

“Where did you see that?”

“Oh, I just invented it. You’ll see.” John loosened slightly the sisal noose around her neck, slid the first end of the double noose under the sisal rope, and over her head. The other end hung down her back. John snugged the noose up around her neck, adding “It can be dangerous, no, it is dangerous to put anything around the neck, but you started it. Tell me if it is uncomfortable, too tight, or you feel a little dizzy, feel faint, things seem to become foggy and grey. With this knife, I can cut you free very quickly.”

Two noises from her throat. “Yes, I want to have a noose around my neck; it excites me.”

“Likewise.”

John undid the yellow rope from her wrists, then retied her wrists with one of his nylon ropes after threading her right arm through the second loop of the double noose. When he tightened up on the standing end of the noose, it pulled her hands up behind her back. The long winding on the double noose kept her arms from being pulled so far up her back as to be excruciatingly painful.

“There, scenario number one.”

“That’s two nooses, you could call it one and two,” Crystal observed.

“Oh, there’s lots more. The prisoner will come with me.” John picked up the ropes and other paraphernalia, the beer (one opened but undrunk), and lead Crystal up the causeway to the shore.

John led her into the dining area of his cottage, which featured a long handmade pine table against one wall, and several red wooden chairs that were half a century old. Positioning her near the centre of the room, John stood on one of the chairs and pulled up on the rope from the double loop noose securing her wrists and encircling her neck. There was a strong hook in a wooden slat on the white ceiling, to which John fastened the rope, drawing it tight so that Crystal rose up on the ball of her feet.

He looked at her fingers to ensure the blood supply wasn’t being cut off, then wandered off, returning with two mirrors, one about 4 feet long, which he placed on a chair in front of her, propping the mirror with a heavy, thick dictionary so it didn’t fall over. He held the smaller one in its white frame so that Crystal could partly see behind her and view how her wrists were secured. Afterwards, he used his digital camera to record the scene.

“It’s my lunch time, somewhat late,” he growled, “you’ll be secure there for a while.” Taking a piece of cloth and folding it as a blindfold, he muttered, “But no reason for you to watch me eat. If you make a noise, I’ll have to gag you as well.” He tied the blindfold around the rope half suspending her from the ceiling, so that her head was supported.

John leisurely prepared grilled cheese sandwiches, more than he needed, and ate his usual two while downloading the pictures into his laptop computer. Some he discarded, and he took a couple more of her dangling in the dining room.

He yawned, muttering, “I need my afternoon nap. I must do something with this prisoner first.”

John took a couple of his nylon ropes and tied two noose like knots. However, instead of the running or sliding rope looping back through the coils of the noose, he inserted what would have been the running end of the other rope through the knot, and vice versa, so there was a noose like opening between the two coils. When he was satisfied, he came over to the woman still strung up to the hook in the ceiling. “You’ve been not too bad. I have some food left over; would you like a grilled cheese sandwich and something to drink?”

Two grunts, then “Yes please. I’ll have that beer now.”

So John fed his charge while she was standing, and poured a beer into her mouth carefully so that she did not choke.

“I wonder what she looks like under those clothes?”

There was no reaction from Crystal, so John undid the buttons for her blouse and pushed it back over her arms. The bright red and orange top to a two-piece swimsuit appeared, conveniently fastened with knotted straps. He opened her shorts and dropped them, to reveal the colourful other part. More pictures.

John stood on a chair to unfasten the knot on the hook, then carefully let her down, checking to see that Crystal was able to keep her balance, then guiding her to sit on the chair he had just been standing on. Slowly he let out the rope through the knot that kept her wrists pulled up her back, massaging her shoulders a little to comfort them from the pain of their unusual position while they were still behind her back. Next, John undid the rope that fastened her wrists together, allowing her shirt to slide off, then re-fastened them not too tightly in front of Crystal. She flexed her fingers.

John loosened the first loop of the double loop noose about her neck then pushed one rope from the centre of his latest creation under the noose around her neck and over her head. The running ends were snugged up so that the coils lay on her shoulders. John could see Crystal wondering what was around her neck but waited patiently. Finally, John removed the original noose.

TBC

ST

[StringTheorist]

Previously:

John loosened the first loop of the double loop noose about her neck then pushed one rope from the centre of his latest creation under the noose around her neck and over her head. The running ends were snugged up so that the coils lay on her shoulders. John could see Crystal wondering what was around her neck but waited patiently. Finally, John removed the original noose.

Now

Between two trees

A few minutes later, Cheryl was strung between two cedar trees outside John’s cottage, near his green mesh hammock. The ropes from the two ended noose about her neck had been led to the trees, angled a little upward, with a half hitch around her wrist in the middle of the ropes, so that her arms were outspread. After adjusting the position of the hitch about her arms and the tension in the ropes, John had made Crystal step off the stone under her. Two more nooses were fitted, one to each ankle, and pulled so that she had to spread her legs to the point that the noose was snug around her neck, and arms stretched and secured to the point she couldn’t twist them free.

John brought out the mirrors and showed Crystal how she looked, then he re-blindfolded her, checked her fingers, warned her to call him if she lost sensation, then adjourned to his hammock.

“I’ll just have a wee nap,” John said, lying in the hammock so that he could see his charge, then started to read his book. A few minutes later Crystal heard his breathing change as he pretended to fall into a nap.

She tried to twist a little in her constraints, but everything seemed to tighten a little more as she wiggled, so she stopped.

Various thoughts roamed through her head. None of them were fearful for her safety - John just was not the type. She had wanted to try a little bondage for the excitement of constraint; she felt she was getting the Cadillac routine. The blindfold reduced her of one of her senses and his threat of a gag made her refrain from conversation, so she could focus on her inner feelings. Somewhat excited. How would it end, what sort of arousals she would continue to have, for she definitely felt something.

Her thoughts ebbed and flowed through her mind as the deep slow breathing continued from the hammock nearby. She imagined herself in the hammock with John, snuggled up, perhaps tied to the webbing or fastened so that they were one. She sank into a reverie, almost a sleep of her own.

The walk

John spluttered ‘awake’, then looked at the person suspended in ropes just to the right of his line of sight. The warm sun bathed his charge, raising a slight shiny sheen on her well-tanned body, and illuminated a smile on her cute face. Little bumps on the mounds covered by the colourful bra top. He had his own male reaction at the sight, though resisted the temptation to do something about it.

He wrapped the middle of a rope twice around her waist, tied an overhand knot in one strand, then fashioned a noose in the other end, creating a very long spiral. He adjusted the ropes so that the overhand knot stopped the running end from tightening too far and swung the spiral of the noose between her legs, checking to see that it contacted her from above the pubic bone all the way under her rear.

John slacked off the ropes pulling her legs wide apart, allowing her to stand with all her weight on her feet, but not move very far. Next he freed her right hand and snugged a short rope around her wrist, then released her left. But they were not free for very long, as he swung them behind her body and proceeded to lash them, thumb sides together. Another rope pulled her elbows towards each other, but not so as to cause severe discomfort. Now he freed her legs.

“I’m going to put you to work,” John muttered, “have you do a decent day’s labour for your last day on earth. After that, you will be the earth,” he jested, as he passed the rope from the noose under her rear between her wrists, and returned it to her front, where he tucked it under the ropes around her waist. Experimentally he tugged on the rope, which pulled down her wrists and caused the spiral of the knot to settle in against her crotch, pressing against the labia through her swimsuit. Crystal gasped at the stimulus.

John hitched the rope to the porch railing, high enough neither her fingers not her mouth could reach the knot. “Wait here,” John commanded, entering the cottage. When he returned, Crystal had experimentally tugged herself on the rope, repeating the pressure on her lower region. John had an axe with him, and some more of his rope.

Crystal followed John as he walked into the deep woods behind his cottage following a trail she could barely distinguish, going slow in the successful hope that the rope under her bum would continue to provide stimulus to her aroused genitalia. They walked for about fifteen minutes along the trail, then John veered to the left, following some recently broken small trees, ferns and leafy plants, till he reached a new clearing in which a long straight log still covered in bark, lay.

“I have to strip off the bark before I can put you to work.”

Treed

Crystal stood there on the verge of orgasm from the stimulus applied to her clit by the noose between her legs. But it was not to be, for John tied her to a cedar tree after piling a few rocks for her to stand on at the base of the trunk. He wrapped rope around the tree and her neck several times, and snugged her against the rough bark. He freed her hands, then retied them behind the tree. More loops of rope fastened her torso and waist tight against the bole, neatly outlining her breasts, then a couple of strands of rope were passed down her groin, between her legs, around the tree, then back. Finally he tied the rope behind the tree, so that her crotch was tightly outlined.

Now Crystal was hanging from the tree supported only by the ropes around her waist, through her groin, and around her torso, with limited support from the coils at her neck. He brought out his camera to record the scene and then set to work.

It took him a little over a half an hour to strip the bark off the hemlock tree he had felled the day before. She watched in amazement as he levered his axe under a small portion of bark, then pulled a long strip off the tree, then immediately went back for more. Without the blindfold, she was able to watched him and think about him, rather than let herself go to ideas floating around in her head. She noted how economically and smoothly he swung his axe to trim off a knot near the top of the tree - a single blow and the knot was pared down to the edge of the trunk. The axe looked old - had seen use but not abuse - and was in excellent condition. The stripping continued. Crystal shut her eyes and imagined being stripped by John - but without the axe. Mmmmm.

Beast of burden

John put back the noose on her waist he had used earlier to secure her hands behind her back, but connected the running end of the rope to the butt end of the naked log. Otherwise, she was not bound, but true to his promise, there was a noose.

John directed her to pull the log down towards the lake, while he lifted up the butt so that it didn’t dig into the ground, using another rope he had fastened near the front.

Crystal found the log moved easily, but she couldn’t tow it by running the rope through her crotch. Eventually she turned and walked backwards, grasping the knot of the noose in both hands, and pulling with her arms. Soon the log was down to the shore, where John slid it into the water, leaving one end secured with a rope to a sturdy tree.

“The prisoner done good,” he growled. “I guess you deserve your final meal after all.” He took a rope and re-secured her hands behind her, looping the noose about her waist as before, stopping to pick his tools, camera and ropes before they retraced their steps to the cottage.

Waiting for dinner

John started the fire in his wood stove before doing anything to Crystal. He mentioned that it would take quite a while for the oven to heat.

She was hung from the ceiling hook in the dining area, with the noose coming down the left side of her head just besides her ear. “Since that’s the way you will meet your end, you may as well get used to it. Her hands remained tied behind her back, but this time he had crossed her wrists in the small of her back and secured them down by the rope to the noose around her waist. She could just stand flat on her feet without putting too much strain on her neck, though it was extended and her head was tilted to the right.

“I don’t have the hood here,” he explained as he blindfolded her eyes, “but this cloth will serve to keep your last meal a surprise.”


“It’s warm in here,” he continued, for indeed the stove was beginning to throw off a good warmth. He tugged at the string at the back of her neck, then paused. Crystal shivered a little but remained silent. She had expected, even wanted, to be stripped after the work he had done on the tree trunk. The knot parted, and she took an extra deep breath. The strands slithered off her shoulder, and folded back the upper part of her swimsuit top, but the strap around her back, and the natural firmness of her breasts kept the material covering her nipples.

Crystal took a tentative swing to encourage the material to fall off.

“Hold on,” John requested, while he got his camera equipment arranged.

Crystal listened to him set up his camera. She didn’t know he had a camcorder.

“OK, swing.”

Crystal twisted and the straps moved a little.

“More.”

After a couple of times the triangles flipped off her mounds and flopped over onto her stomach. John went behind her, and then pulled the knot fastening the straps around her chest, and the top fell away, revealing her firm generous mounds, fully tanned, probably a size C. Nice big aureoles, with erect nipples.

“Very good,” John said, as he took some more pictures. “Don’t wander away.”

Well, all she could do is listen to him working in the kitchen, setting two places at the table, stacking his cooking utensils and dishes, looking in the oven, stuffing more wood in the stove.

Sitting down to dinner

The last time he looked in the oven, a delicious smell wafted through the room, and Crystal realized she was hungry. John took whatever was baking out, and placed it on a rack on the counter, then came over to his charge.

“We don’t usually dress for dinner, even if it’s our last supper here.” He unfastened the rope around the bindings about her wrist, then untied the running end of the noose about her neck from the hook in the ceiling. He lowered her into one of the red kitchen chairs with her arms, still tied at the wrists, over the back. A few turns of rope secured her legs to the legs of the chair, and the rope about her waist, still under her bum, was tied to the bars of the chair back. He turned the noose about her neck so that the knot was at the back, then fastened the running end to her wrists, holding them up. Finally, a couple of turns of his nylon rope bound her chest to the chair back, neatly outlining her mammary glands in an X pattern.

“Oh, my, aren’t we sitting up so straight. No slouching, elbows on table. I guess I’ll just have to feed the prisoner her last meal.” With that John placed a fork full of food, chicken, baked potatoes, and cooked vegetables, in her mouth.

“Mmmm, good. What have you prepared for my last meal?”

“Oh, stuffed chicken breasts, boneless, sliced nearly in half, filled with Swiss cheese and ham, breaded. Baked potatoes. All I have is frozen vegs.”

“Well, delicious. Not what I would have chosen for a last meal, but it will do.”

John fed her another fork full, saying, “Just ask, and I’ll undo the ropes.”

“Oh, you’ve got another couple of scenarios still to do. I’m enjoying the attention. I spent so many years looking after my father, it’s nice to be on the receiving end.”

“It seems that this should be an odd way of receiving. Could be painful, cramping, twisting parts of the body in unusual ways, then being required to hold the position for a long time. What do you feel, think?”

“About?”

“When you are tied. Afraid, excited?”

“When I am blindfolded and immobile, I can let my thoughts wander, fantasize, accepting whatever is coming. Most of your bindings get me somewhat, if not quite, aroused. It’s such a change from what I have been used to, always having to do for the other person. Somehow I’m not afraid, for I trust you, and your nature is very similar to my own. Self-reliant. Quiet, frugal. I wouldn’t even mind being gagged, and my ears plugged, to further reduce my sensory inputs and ability to interact with my environment.”

Crystal paused, then added, “You seem very comfortable tying someone up. Knots tight yet not too tight. I wouldn’t be able to escape if I tried. But not scads of rope either.”

“Oh, I’ve never had the opportunity to tie someone up. The right person never came into my life. You’re dropping out of nowhere so to speak, makes me feel I’ve won the lottery. You suggested everything. Maybe I’ll wake up and find you were a dream. I’ve never had a chance like this before, or probably will never have again, so I don’t want to spoil it. I’ll have those pictures to remember you by, when you’ve gone ... home.”

He fed her another mouthful, then asked if she wanted wine.

So she slowly ate her last supper, with wine, and eventually elucidated from John an interest in bondage, that he had pictures, and practised self-bondage.

For dessert, he had a raspberry pie from a local bakery. Crystal would have preferred blueberry, but he explained that he didn’t have surprise guests for their last meal.

Whenever a bit of food dropped from her mouth, he cleaned it up with a napkin, but Crystal wished that he would lick off any that stuck to her, especially on her breasts.


MTC
ST

[AlexUSA3]

Crystal’s Nooses (M/F)

Warning. Many of the TUGs in this story are dangerous and should not be tried in real life.

Not me writing stories where people occasionally engage in breath play. To me, most of the danger lies in the fact that John and Crystal hardly know each other.

Seriously, it's an interesting and captivating tale even if a bit off the beaten path. It's always refreshing when a story finds a different way to do something that perhaps has already been done a hundred times before.

[StringTheorist]

Dishes

John set water on to heat for dishes and some eggs to boil, then commented, “It’s time for you to contemplate your heinous crime.”

With that, he freed Crystal from her chair but leaving her hands tied. The noose around her neck was re-attached to the hook in the ceiling, so she was standing straight up. John wrapped a cord around Crystal’s left breast, fairly tightly and held the cord. In a half minute her flesh shifted, and he was able to tighten the cord some more, and fastened it with a bow knot. In another minute her right breast was similarly constricted.

Crystal responded with a pair of groans in approval.

John snugged up the cords around her breasts one more time. Her mammary glands were becoming a little engorged with blood, turning her tanned boobs blueish.

John left the cottage and returned with a pile of blocks of wood, ends from some construction project. He set these up in a bedroom under the open access hatch to the attic, and passed a strong plank across the opening, high above the floor. He collected his ropes, then fetched Crystal, manoeuvring her onto the pile, standing under the beam.

First he attached a safety rope from the beam under her armpits, tied at the back. If she fell, this would arrest her drop. Then he bound her legs at her ankles and knees.

His next step was to place nooses in the grove formed in her breasts by the cords, which he left in place, tightening the knot as much as possible. The running ends were thrown over the plank spanning the access hole. John began to pull on the ropes, beginning to raise her breasts by the nooses, till Crystal rose on her toes in an effort to reduce the load. John tied off the ropes, snugged up the safety rope a little, and stood back to watch and record with his equipment.

Once Crystal started to complain through groans, one, two, long pause, a third, then a hurried fourth and fifth.

“Now you are experiencing what will be happening to your neck in a few hours,” John growled, “the rough rope will constrict your neck like is happening to your tits.”

In his lower voice, he added, “Think about the hideous crime you are guilty of. Confess your sins on Earth while you can.”

John left his camcorder running, then returned to the kitchen, setting the mirror up on a chair in the door so he could see her while he washed up.

Crystal stood there, listening to the clink of glass, plates and cutlery as John cleaned up. Slowly the sensation in her breasts diminished and she lowered down onto the ball of her feet. More flesh moved, stresses reduced. Tentatively Crystal lowered her weight by bending her knees, further tightening the nooses, but they didn’t slip off. As she was straightening her legs, she felt the support under her right foot move a little. Tentatively she kicked the first plank under her right foot, and allowed herself to sag a little further. Then the left.

The sounds from the kitchen changed to drying, stacking, putting away, wiping. The water was poured from the dish pan; it was wiped and put away.

As quietly as she could, Crystal had been sliding out the pieces of wood stacked under her feet; her breasts extended upwards, taking her weight more and more. Just as a final clank of a heavy pot being put away, her foot slipped and the other planks moved away.

John wiped his hands, turned off some light, and came into the doorway of the bedroom as her body swayed back and forth under the hatch. Truly, some of the load was on her safety rope, but she was hanging from her breasts.

“Has the prisoner repented?” he growled.

One groan.

“It’s about time to get you prepared for the final event,” John said, undoing her blindfold. He had positioned the long mirror so that she could see herself suspended, hands still pinioned behind her, legs tied, dangling from her mounds. There was a bit of a grimace on her face. John piled the blocks under her feet and helping her stand upright. He undid the ends of the nooses, and pulled them off the plank, then he slowly opened the nooses and removed them from her breasts. Finally he undid the knots in the cords that formed the notches around her boobs.

Crystal gasped with pain as the circulation was restored to her abused glands, but after a few minutes was smiling again at John.

The preparation


Crystal was lying on her back on a soft pad, with a soft cord tied about her waist, the ends on the floor under her between her legs. John was in the process of tying each wrist to the corresponding ankle. When complete, he attached nooses to her ankles, pulled up in front of her, and tied them so that her legs were pulled wide apart, exposing the lower part of her swim pants. A brief tug at the knots at the side reduced her clothing to a small chunk of cloth, which he pulled away, exposing her patch of light brown fuzz, and her labia, full, flushed.

“We always put a raw egg in a woman’s vagina,” John spoke roughly, “to see if she has an orgasm as she dies. Men do, but that’s not very interesting. If the female comes, the contractions break the egg, and the contents drip out.”

With that, he took one of his cooled hard-boiled eggs, put some mineral oil on it, and began to rub it up and down on her labia, from her clitoris to her perineum. Up and down, slowly opening up her lower lips, emphasizing the action on her clit.

Slowly, Crystal began to respond to the stimulus; sensations began to spread through her body from her crotch to her nipples and down her legs; she flushed and tried to spread her legs even further apart. John teased the big end of the egg against her minor labia, pushing it part way in as she continued to become aroused. When he figured that she was close to climax, he pushed the egg all the way into her vagina.

“There. Don’t squeeze. You don’t want all that runny stuff all over your legs while you are waiting for the trap to spring.”

“And I don’t want it to fall out,” he said, as he pulled the soft thin cord up through the cleft in her rear and through the lips of her opening, fastening them to the original cord around her waist. The two strands of the cord passed on either side of her enlarged clit, keeping stimulus, but not so tight they caused pain.

“Before you die, you’ll see shooting stars.”

MTC
ST

[StringTheorist]

From before:
“Before you die, you’ll see shooting stars.”

Now:

Spread Eagled


The dark end of nautical twilight found Crystal lying on a soft pad on the pipe dock where she had landed her canoe. The nooses around her wrists and ankles were fastened to the galvanized iron popes sticking up at the corners of one dock segment so she was deliciously spreadeagled. A cushion tilted her head up so she was seeing the stars in the black void overhead and to the east. The night was warm so she didn’t feel chilled. Well fed, well fastened, and feeling the unusual object buried deep within her body.

A streak of light passed overhead. “What’s that?” Crystal asked.

“A meteor from the Perseid meteor shower, which is at its peak tonight. The lack of moon increases the visibility.”

Crystal watched the sky, oohing and aweing as the streaks continued. Sometime John draped a woollen blanket over her bare skin as there was a slight cooling in the night air.

She stretched a little and felt the string passing along her start button. Crystal tensed her muscles down there and felt a little more stimulus resulting in a fuzzy glow centred around her womanly parts. As the streaks flew, her body responded. Suddenly a much brighter streak started, then split into 4 sub streaks just overhead, and her internal streaks started.

Relaxing after coming down from her high, she noticed that the nooses had tightened just a little and she was less stretched out, and a little more comfortable. Soon her eyes closed in a little nap.

“Brring brring,” sounded some device.

“Midnight,” announced John, holding a flashlight, “its time for you to go home.”

John undid the ropes stretching Crystal on the dock, removed the padding at her wrists and ankles, and handed over her clothes. “There. At least 10 noose scenarios, some just separate phases of a basic one. And you got to see shooting stars. It’s time for you to go home.”

Crystal got up and stretched to relieve the cramps in some of her muscles. Instead of dressing, she went over to the pile of ropes on the main dock and searched for the double ended noose. “May I have this, please, the double noose you invented?” she requested, opening up the loops.

“Oh, sure. I have lots of rope. What do you want it for?”

Crystal hung the second loop around her neck and approached John. She hung the first loop over his head and tightened it slightly.

“I’ve decided something. You know I’ve never told you my surname.”

“No, I guess not. What did you decide?”

“You’d never guess. It’s Noose, Crystal Noose. You’ve made nooses for a Noose.”

She snugged up the nylon rope between them a little more; now that they were very close she could feel the body heat radiating from the man just in front of her. “You gave me what I wanted, more than what I expected, without going outside the limits.”


She pulled the nooses tight, “I’ve decided that this is ‘home’,” as she pressed herself to his body and kissed him on the lips. “I’ve noosed me a man.”

FIN

ST

[StringTheorist]

Hello @AlexUSA3

Thank you for commenting on the first parts of my story. I hope you find the last parts I posted above to be within your expectations, though you may find the denouement somewhat prosaic. John stayed within the stated ROB (rules of bondage) set by Chrystal though she may not have thought all things through. I think she was satisfied though the tit suspension might have been a strain.

ST

[AlexUSA3]

Hello @AlexUSA3

Thank you for commenting on the first parts of my story. I hope you find the last parts I posted above to be within your expectations, though you may find the denouement somewhat prosaic. John stayed within the stated ROB (rules of bondage) set by Chrystal though she may not have thought all things through. I think she was satisfied though the tit suspension might have been a strain.

ST

I am finding it interesting still. Clearly, the end of this brief but intense session is nearing, but they can walk away having fulfilled their fantasies and knowing where to look in case something else ever captures their attention. The tit suspension may have had the most realistic results and descriptions of anything yet in this story.

[StringTheorist]

Thanks for your comments, @AlexUSA3 .

Actually the last section posted is the end of the story I wrote years ago. (FIN = end in French)

ST.

[AlexUSA3]

Thanks for your comments, @AlexUSA3 .

Actually the last section posted is the end of the story I wrote years ago. (FIN = end in French)

ST.

I didn't notice that there were back to back posts. That was my fault.