Pooja’s accidental hanging

Pooja looked at the machine carefully. Then she caressed the dangling purple rope. It gave her a shiver.

“How does it work again?”

“I activate the controls. The noose is lowered; the noose lifts up.”

“Why not build a gallows?”

“I have very limited space here in my studio. In some of my pictures I do not wish for a structure such as a gallows to frame my subject. I prefer them to be lifted up into the air long enough to take the photo I desire without the wooden structure as a backdrop.”

“But isn’t that dangerous?”

“It is if the model is dropped suddenly, tightening the noose around her neck. A slow lift allows some extra moments before discomfort truly sets in.”

“I see.”

She caressed the noose again. She’d seen a few hangings in the town square. At the time she’d thought the first one so barbaric as to execute someone in such a manner. But she’d continually gone back to watch each new hanging.

She was curious what the condemned felt during their last moments. What fears did they experience? What went through their minds at the moment of hanging? She’d become more and more obsessed with such thoughts.

She’d sought out the photographer upon learning he had a noose in his studio. Curiosity and her obsession with those poor victims had brought her here. Now the images of the hanged returned in a rush.

“May I?” she asked. The photographer nodded as he prepared his camera.

With a trembling hand Pooja carefully looped the noose around her neck. It gave her an erotic tremor something fierce. The photographer smiled as he snapped off a few pictures.

Was this what those victims had experienced: fear mixed with a strange sexual thrill? What had they thought with the noose around their necks, moments before their hanging? Perhaps she could learn more.

“Could you tighten the noose?” she asked the photographer with a smile. “Only a little, mind you.”

He nodded as he activated the remote. The rope was pulled upward, removing the slack. He stopped right before it tightened around her throat.

She shivered as she reached up and touched the coil around her neck. He snapped a couple more photos. These looked even better… as though she was contemplating her own suicide by touching the rope.

“Perhaps you can tighten it further? I mean… I wish to experience…” She wasn’t certain just how to phrase it.

He carefully tweaked the controls on the remote. It pulled her upright, almost taking her up off her feet. He quickly lowered it until she was flat on her feet with just a little tension in the rope.

Pooja felt an incredible jolt when the noose had tightened, nearly making her airborne. Then he’d lessened the tension. That strange sexual arousal had diminished a little once her neck felt better. Now she was confused the way her body had responded.

He took more pictures. She wasn’t sure how to pose properly. She asked how she was doing, but he kept on snapping photos.

She’d researched some hangings and had seen pictures of people forced to stand on their toes. Could she try that as well? How would it make the noose feel around her throat?

“A little higher?” she asked. “Just a little.”

“If you insist.”

“Is it all right? The pictures… are they turning out?”

“I think some of them are all right.”

“How do I… how do I pose?”

“Just act natural.”

He tweaked the remote again. The rope pulled upward a little. Pooja gasped as she found herself shuffling around on her toes.

He snapped several pictures as she reached up for the coil. She became aware of the camera and tried to lower her arms. But it was more difficult than she’d imagined. Was this what those poor people had experienced upon being lifted upward, a sense of horror at the strain around their necks?

The photographer used the remote to lower her upon seeing her discomfort. She stood uncertainly. That strange sexual arousal had returned in a rush, only to diminish once she was flat on her feet again.

“The pictures? How… how did they turn out?”

“Some turned out rather well.”

“But I… I was reaching upward.”

“Do not worry. Some of those are quite beautiful, seeing the expression on your face as you reached upward.”

“Did I… did I look afraid?”

“Very much so. We can stop if you wish.”

He took the remote to lower the noose so she could remove it. “Wait!” she blurted out. “Not yet!”

“Are you sure?” But her mind was back on those victims again: the fear… the expression on their faces. She now believed she had experienced some of that fear.

But they had been bound, their arms tied behind their backs. Was that a necessary component to the experience? Had that added to the terror of the moment?

“My hands,” she told him, holding them out to him. “Shouldn’t they… shouldn’t they be secured… tightened behind my back?”

“It’s not essential to the photo shoot. But it would lend an element of realism to the pictures if you wish it.”

“I wish it,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

“Very well. Let me know if I make you uncomfortable.”

She nodded, appreciative of his concern. But she couldn’t help herself. The opportunity was now before her to experience what those poor victims had experienced at the moment of their deaths.

He took some rope and pulled her arms behind her back. He tied her wrists together. But they felt somewhat loose. Surely this was not the way those people in the square had been secured, right?

“That’s not very tight,” she observed quietly.

“I do not wish to alarm you.”

“Would the pictures not turn out better if I am properly secured?”

“I suppose I can make them tighter. But you seem…”

“…a little frightened? Yes, I suppose I am. But isn’t that good for your photos?”

“It would be, yes.”

“Then secure me properly. I wish my photos to portray a true hanging experience.”

He paused for a moment. “As you wish.” Then he went back to securing her wrists.

He roughly jerked on them as he tightened the bindings. She let out a frightened squawk. “Too much?” She closed her eyes and shook her head… “No; I am ok.”

Now there was a definite element of fear. She was in the studio, her wrists secured behind her back and a noose around her neck. But there was fear nonetheless… fear and a strange arousal much stronger than before.

The photographer went back to snapping off pictures, taking them from several angles. She panted quietly, almost alarmed over how wet she had become down below. She hoped it wouldn’t show through her skirt.

A part of her wanted to be set free. But there was a surge of incredible excitement that forced her to remain silent. Surely this was what those people had experienced before they’d been hanged to death, right?

“Very good,” he told her. “Your pictures are turning out very well. I think someone with your beauty and poise will go far. Now I will release you.“

“Wait!” she panted heavily, unable to comprehend why she wanted to take this farther. “Shouldn’t I stand… on my toes?”

“You have been so patient with me. I do not wish to alarm you further.”

“For my pictures? Would it not be good… for my pictures?”

“They are turning out well thus far. I see no need… unless you desire…”

“More tension,” she panted. “Could I experience more tension… on the rope?”

He looked at her carefully. Then he smiled and nodded. He activated the remote once more.

She let out a gasp as she was lifted up onto her toes. Her eyes flew open at the increased strain around her throat. It took everything she had not to demand to be let down.

He snapped off several more photos as she shuffled around. She had no idea how to pose in this manner. Everything screamed for her to ask to be lowered back down. And yet…

He took his last picture. Then he lowered her. The tension eased around her throat.

She panted heavily for breath. “Incredible!” she murmured.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing. I was just…”

“You have been most kind, a joy to work with. I thank you so much. These pictures will turn out well. Now I will release you.”

“Wait!”

“Excuse me?”

Her heart was pounding in her chest. Something inside was screaming for the session to conclude. And yet a part of her wanted to know what it felt like to be dangling in mid-air… had to know!

What had it felt like? What had gone through their minds during those last few moments they were airborne? She’d come this far to the point where she just had to know.

“Can I experience… just for a moment…?”

“Experience what?”

“What it’s like to hang? Only for a moment?”

“There’s really no need.”

“But the pictures. They will turn out well, yes?”

“Yes, photographing you in mid-air would show you in a, well… a more realistic stage of hanging.”

“Then I am willing.”

“Are you sure?”

“No… I mean yes! I mean… please. You can take the pictures quickly, can you not?”

“Yes I can.”

“Can you like… sentence me before my hanging? Declare what I am guilty of?” Perhaps that would ultimately give her the experience of knowing what those people had ultimately gone through, condemned and then executed out in public like that.”

“For crimes against the state, I find you guilty and condemn you to death by hanging. I will now proceed with the execution.” Then he operated the remote again.

Pooja felt an incredible surge of fear and arousal flood over her very being. She was about to cry out she’d changed her mind. Then the noose pulled her up off her feet.

Her eyes flew open in horror as he snapped picture after picture. Her bare feet fluttered for solid footing that was no longer there. Her hands jerked behind her back as though desperate to shed the ties that bound her. Then her legs began to kick.

He circled around her dangling form, trying to catch her from several different angles. Then he noticed her face was darkening. It was time to let her down.

As he reached for the remote the lights flickered in his studio. But instead of lowering her, the noose took her higher. He frantically punched a couple of buttons, but it only took her up until her feet were almost level with his face.

Pooja kicked and struggled, her face turning red as she struggled to breathe. Her thighs instinctively rubbed together. A moment later she was experiencing an orgasm unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. It totally soaked her undergarment.

The photographer stared up at her in shock, an erection forming in his trousers. Then he frantically began snapping off more photos. He couldn’t get her down, so why not take what he could before the system returned to normal.

Pooja fought and kicked for life. Then her thighs instinctively rubbed together again. Her chest heaved in agony as her body jerked and twisted until she was cumming again. This time fluids began dripping out from underneath her skirt.

The photographer no longer concerned himself with taking her down. Even though she was clearly fighting, he decided it was too late. So he continued taking shot after shot, his cock growing inside his pants until it finally went off.

Pooja jerked in the noose, kicking with her legs until the rope totally closed off her airway. Her feet went every which way as her arms frantically jerked behind her back. Her tongue protruded until with one hard jerk she went limp, gently swaying back and forth. A dribble on the floor indicated her bladder had given way.

The photographer continued taking pictures until she hung lifeless. Then he stepped forward. He kissed and sucked on her toes, unable to believe his good fortune at the malfunction in his equipment that had accomplished what he had been too cowardly to contemplate on his own.

2018 (written Dec 13 ’18 by riwa)

(Inspired by the Ramharraja2001 manips)