Tamanna hangs for charity

The auditorium grew quiet as two robed ladies solemnly escorted Tamanna up the steps. My breath caught in my throat at her beauty. She was stunning. So why was she doing this?

She smiled as she was escorted over to me. Then her escorts bowed before turning and walking away. The Indian goddess smiled as she waited patiently.

I took a length of rope and turned her around. Then I bound her wrists behind her back. She smiled bravely at the spectators who murmured quietly amongst themselves.

When I finished I gave a tug to assure she was secure. Then I turned her to face me, looking solemnly at her yet not wanting to speak. She saw the question in my eyes and nodded she was ready.

There was a gasp from the crowd as I brought the noose down. I looped it carefully around her throat. Then I snugged it behind her right ear.

I slowly took out the slack until her head tipped to one side as she was forced to shuffle around on her toes. She gasped before giving me an anxious look. That is when I could not help but speak.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She nodded.

“This charity is important to me. The auditorium is full; the people have paid well. My only concern is that it will happen far too quickly.”

“I have chosen a thicker noose for your dance. I assure you, you will last longer. Do not jerk your knees upward as it will cause the noose to tighten quicker.”

She nodded with understanding before smiling with a sigh. Then I prepared to lift her up into the air. She stopped me with a single word…”Wait.”

I paused as she looked at me. Then she gave me a wry smile. “My humiliation must be complete. After all, they have paid well.”

I nodded with understanding. Then I turned her to face the crowd. Slowly and deliberately I pulled the straps to her top down off her shoulders, exposing her breasts.

There was an appreciative gasp from the crowd. Then I pulled down her skirt. She was wearing nothing underneath.

I rubbed her breasts, proving to the audience she was not wearing any kind of flesh-colored body stocking. She whimpered as her nipples became swollen. Then I reached down and fingered her slit.

She writhed and whimpered as the audience murmured again. Then I grabbed the rope and pulled. Tamanna was lifted up into the air.

I quickly secured the rope to a nearby cleat. Then I stepped back to watch. Several members of the audience stood up from where they were seated as though that might improve the view.

Tamanna began to kick, her feet searching for the floor. Her face took on a grimace of agony. Then she rasped for breath as more of the audience rose to their feet.

Her top hung down over her stomach, hung up by her wrists secured behind her back. Her skirt loosened enough to fall onto the floor. Her pussy became swollen, an angry red color.

She gurgled as she kicked a little harder. It looked as though she was trying to dance. But the rope seldom grants much reason when blood to the brain is restricted.

Her gyrations became more desperate, her body wanting the flow of air to her lungs to be properly returned. Her hands began to jerk behind her back as she swung back and forth. She began to twist in place as she fought the noose.

She came within sight of my face, the anxiety evident in her features. I gave her a nod and a reassuring smile to let her know it was a good effort. A part of her seemed to understand.

She relaxed somewhat and hung with less animation. Her legs kicked more evenly, she was back to her dance. But the restriction of air to her lungs made her become desperate again.

She began to fight the noose in earnest. This proved to be the best part of her dance. She kicked and pedaled, struggling to get air down her constricted throat.

Despite my warning she gave the audience what they wanted most as her knees jerked upward, causing the noose to tighten ominously. Her pussy flared before she squirted her arousal. My cock stiffened in my trousers at the sight of it.

Her dance became desperate. Once again she twisted until our eyes met. This time she was pleading, although I could not tell if she was pleading to be taken down or wanting to know if her death was proving satisfactory.

Her rasps for breath were silenced as she fought the noose. One last jerk with her knees doomed her. Then all struggles ceased as she quietly swung back and forth.

The audience was deadly silent as her bladder gave way. Many in the front rows heard the splatter. Then they stood up and began to cheer.

Tamanna swung back and forth as the applause grew louder. Then it reached a crescendo. I thought I saw a flicker of gratitude in her eyes, although I may have misinterpreted. Maybe she was simply grateful her suffering was nearing an end as her neck lengthened. Then she was reduced to muscle twitches as her face sagged tiredly in death to thunderous applause as befitting a great Indian actress being worshipped in her final moments by an appreciative, paying fan base for a charity so very important to her.

2018 (written Jul 14 ’18 by riwa for ramharraja2001. Inspired by his picture manipulation.)

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