A 99% true story about hanging myself

Ever been at work, feeling aroused as hell, and in need of some kinky friend? It happened to me countless times. Browsing the internet for images is not an option, obviously. So it happened that in a boring november day I discovered that IRC was still a thing and that on a fairly famous server existed a snuff sex chat.

I had chosen “willictim” as my handle: a simple wordplay clear enough for a bunch of men to write in private.Most of them wanted to role play, but one in particular started up front:

“How willing are you?”

“Very, I promise”

“Do you like hangings?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I love them!”

“Will you hang for me?”

“Sure I will”.

Classic start to another dumb roleplay chat. But better than working, especially today.

Something about this guy, who went by the handle “Hangman”, was a bit off. He started discussing hanging me like we were going to do it soon. The way he handled my playful replies like someone who attempts to be serious really aroused me. Over the course of ten minutes I closed all the other boring roleplays chat, mostly about dominant men who then wanted to get snuffed themselves, and focused on Hangman.

The way he was talking was so serious and to the point. He didn’t care about my looks, he didn’t want any photo, he wasn’t playing around with roles or imaginative scenarios. He was interested in what turned me on snuff-wise, how far I had explored the fantasy in real life, and more.Thinking back, it was him exploring how serious I was.

My workday was over and our communication got a little bit disrupted: while on public transport I wasn’t really comfortable opening up the application on my phone in the fear someone would sneak a peek at it.

“I have to go offline for a while, sorry”, I wrote

“Why? Busy much?”

“Have to buy groceries for dinner or…”

“Or what? ” that little smiley face was such a dark contrast to our ongoing discussion to that point.

“Or I’ll starve to death! Not that sexy uh?”

“Keep playing with me and you won’t need groceries ever again”

I stared at the screen unable to reply. With those words he grounded the fantasy in real life so hard it struck me. It was true, if I hanged tonight I didn’t need groceries. Or to eat. Or anything else. With my breath short and an accelerated heartbeat, I tried to calm my hands from shaking and replied back.

“What’s your idea?”

“Give me your Skype contact and find out”

every rational part of my brain told me to stop. Then I gave it to him, locked the screen, and walked into the grocery store.

One hour, sixty euros and a bag full of goodies later, I was riding the elevator to my apartment. My head was spinning out of the adrenaline rush. The way he was so serious about me not needing groceries if I was willing to play along was the most exciting thing someone ever said to me.

As soon as I entered the apartment I dropped the bag, my backpack, and my coat all on the floor, closing the door behind me. I checked Skype and a new friend request was waiting. It was from Hangman.ù

I accepted the friend request and found out he was already online.

“I knew you couldn’t resist”

“I just liked how serious you look about this whole thing”

“I’m a very serious man”. My hands were shaking again.

“Have you ever done autoerotic asphyxiation?” he asked.

“A few times, when I was younger and dumber! Almost lost it while dangling from a door handle and got really scared”

“Because you wanted to survive”

“Of course I wanted to survive”

“You just lacked the right motivation”.

My panties were drenched to the point I could feel my jeans sticking to my skin. I had to take my sweater off and, feeling the room temperature was on fire, I also got out of my t-shirt, keeping only my bra. I could feel my cheeks burning and my breathing was uncontrollable.

Never for a second did I think about going all the way. This was all a roleplay in my head, although the idea he was really serious about it was starting to creep in. But I was in my apartment, alone, with the door locked. He couldn’t do anything to me that I didn’t want. And the idea he was actually trying to convince me to hang was hot beyond imagination.

But I was not going to hang myself tonight, for this guy, and be found by friends and family a few days later. I was not going to be the subject of tomorrow’s news asautoerotic asphyxiation gone wrong.

“Are you confident you can motivate me enough?” I asked with the tone we women use when we are controlling the game.

“Do you have a belt at home?”

“I have it on me right now”

“Take it off”

I took it off and, to up the ante, sent him a picture of my hand holding the belt.

“Good start. Now make a loop with it”

I made a loop and placed it around my neck, sending him another picture covering my eyes and nose with my other hand. I was NOT going to be recognizable if he were to post the pictures online.

“Too soon, too soon. First you have to stick the longer end in a doorway high enough so that you cannot touch the ground with the loop on your neck. Then find something to step on.”

I drinked a glass of water and felt I was about to pass out. My arousal was through the roof. This was going to be one hell of an orgasm.

“Done” I texted him.

I was lying. The belt was in the doorway but my feet were firmly on the ground. The ring of my mobile phone took me completely by surprise and I almost dropped it.Hangman was video calling and I could see myself noosed up on the screen as a preview.

I refused the call and texted “let me cover my face first”.

“Why?”

“So that if you record me I won’t be recognizable”

“Do you realize I cannot record through Skype?”

“I take no chances,” I said.

I rushed through my winter clothing and found a scarf to cover my face.

“Ok, I’ll call. Just in audio first, then if I feel comfortable I will start video. Sounds good?”

“Ok”I took a deep breath and called. He replied with video straight away. He was a man twice my age at least, wearing a singlet, standing in what looked like a basement room. A bright white light was illuminating the room and my scarf-covered face through my screen. He was bald and for sure overweight, in that peculiar way some men grow large bellies without growing a huge face as well. I could see his left arm rocking back and forth out of screen, clearly masturbating. I could also hear that familiar clicking noise a wet cock makes when stroke fast enough.

“Are you wearing the noose?”

“Yes” I replied almost whispering

“Let me see”I started the video straight away. I couldn’t recognize myself anymore: I kept repeating to myself I was in control but I was obeying everything this man was saying. Aside from the chair thing, that was my rational part still showing me I had nothing to worry about.

“You will have to place your phone somewhere so that you are not holding it” he told me. His breath was a little short as well.

“Why?” I asked

“Because when you drop I want a clear picture”.

“I’m not going to kill myself now”

“Your pussy wants it”.ù

He was so right. But I was not going to die.

I placed the phone on the ground helping myself with some books to keep it straight.“Put that noose higher” he said. Me holding my phone and dangling a bit from the belt wasn’t going to cut it for him. And I really wanted him to cum.

I obeyed once more and cleared the chair full of clothes I had in close proximity to climb on it.

“I’m gonna let you come watching me standing there”

“Sure baby, sure” he replied, more and more aroused.

At this point, I was sure the sight of me on top of the chair, in my bra, and with my belt around my neck would be enough. I felt back in control.

“Do you want me to remove my jeans?”

“As you please, it’s your death dress” I almost came to these words. I took my jeans and shoes off and the scarf fell off my face.

“Nothing to worry dear, I’m not recording”

“Ok” I replied as I climbed the chair and put the noose around my neck again.

“Drop”

“I can’t die, I don’t want to die, I’m not suicidal”

“You have waited all your life to do this, true?”

“True”

“Has anyone ever motivated you to go this far?”

“No”

“This is your chance to do it. You can hang now for me. Hang. Drop, now”

My heart was about to explode from my chest. My breathing was as fast as possible. The feeling of the noose on my neck was the most erotic thing that ever happened to my body.

I kneeled slightly and the belt closed around my neck with violence. I reached out with my hands and grasped at the belt to alleviate the pressure.I could still hear the sounds coming from the Hangman cock, and him breathing hard and moaning like man do before cumming. He was about to come and I was about to go back up and take a proper breath. I could also hear another sound, far into the room.

It was the echoes of my choking sounds. Without realizing, my legs had spread, lowering my body more and more and the belt that I wore the entire day was now cutting my oxygen to my lungs and blood to my brain. I couldn’t tell if Hangman was cumming or not. I felt the skin under my feet leaving the base of the chair and going into the void under it. I was now holding only by my neck and arms.

I left the belt with my hands and tried to reach the chair backrest to pull me up, but I merely touched it.My legs, spread around the chair, were now moving without a purpose. My hands tried to reach the belt again but stopped mid way and just hanged there. The choking sounds were stronger and stronger and the idea they were coming from me made me more and more aroused. My nipples brushing with my bra, the feeling of my feet dangling in mid air, my ass bouncing against the doors: all these feelings on my body gave a spark of realism to the countless images I saw on the internet with models playing dead.

What I experienced could be mistaken as an orgasm, but was something more. My whole body went into a state of relaxation and I felt that it was my brain that was having an orgasm rather than my pussy.

I peed all over my legs and feet, all over the chair, and felt dizzy.

Time to go back up the chair.

Back up the chair.

Back…I relaxed my body and died for the Hangman enjoyment.At the door, the frozen food I bought was already melting in a pool of water and getting soaked into my expensive coat. In the living room, on the ground, my sweater and t-shirt were lying on the ground like in the scene of a romantic encounter where lovers throw away their clothing while making out.

Behind the only closed door, a small portion of a belt was poking out revealing a hint on what just happened inside.On the other side of the door my body, now just an inanimate object, was firmly held in place by the belt around my neck. My face was red and my tongue was sticking out of my mouth. Arms and legs pointing down, the latter still dripping with piss. A few feet away, my mobile phone was still displaying the chat with the Hangman on Skype. The bottom line read “this user has blocked you and you cannot reply anymore”.

I lacked the right motivation, he was right all along.