Gallows Story
( C by Hang in leather )
Mental Swing
After a few emails had been sent, I had finally agreed on a date to meet up with a hangman for some fun. His final email gave me directions to a gatehouse a couple of miles outside a town. The rusted sign on the closed gates read The Campbell Sanatorium.
I thought to myself great, a nut house, this is all I need. I got out and tried the gate, it was locked, but there was a note attached to it with a mobile number. I phoned it and was told to wait. A minute later, he came out from the gatehouse, opened the gate and beckoned me in, locking the gate behind me.
Having got my bag of kit out from the car, we finally shaked hands and I went into his house. He showed me his collection of stuff, which was very impressive and even a few bits of kit that made me slightly jealous. Then I brought out from my bag what I had: Biker Jacket, Gloves, White Rugby Shorts, White Rugby Socks, Leather Gloves, and 20 hole rangers - just what he had asked me to bring.
He told me to go get changed and then we would have some fun. He went and changed into a complete set of biker leathers and high leg boots with 2 inches of think white socks over the top of each boots - very smart and horny. I was ready, shorts, socks, rangers, jacket and gloves.
?Ready? he asked. ?Okay? I replied.
He brought out a pair of leg cuffs and put them on around the ankles of the rangers, he kept clicking until they were tight and I could feel them through the leather. It was not uncomfortable, but you know they were on. Next, was a pair of ridged handcuffs. He took my gloved hand and placed the open steel bracelet around closing it tight around my leathered wrist and then he put the double lock on it so that it would not close any tighter - the same was done with the other hand behind my back - my cock went hard and tented my shorts. He smiled and gave it a soft rub.
He directed me towards the front door and opened it. I had to take shorter steps because of the length of chain but managed it well enough. It was beginning to get dark. The white was my shorts seem to light up against the darkening surrounds. We started to walk up the driveway and right enough about six hundred yards was the sanatorium. It was in a bad state, but the roof was on and there was glass in most of the windows.
By now was cock was soft now, the night was cold and I had to stand while he unpadlocked the door.
The corridor was long and dark, pale glows of light came from the glass in the doors on each side as we walked along towards a staircase which we started to climb me in front managing to walk up normally with the leg cuffs on. At the first floor we came to a black door with a glass panel. He opened the door and guided me inside.
?This room is the inspection room.? he said and took me over to what was an old school vaulting horse - the box style one with the suede top. It was missing the bottom block and therefore was lower to the floor, about bed height only slightly higher. I took me to the end of it and I was told to stand with my feet apart. You will never guess? Honest - you won?t. The chain on my boots was the exact width of the bottom of the box. Attached to the box was a further set of leg cuffs, one on each side, which he secured above the ones I was wearing. I guess he had done this before. He stood behind me and undid shorts dropping them down until they stopped just below my knees. He bent me forward on to the box and applied a large think leather belt across my back and cuffed arms securing me to the box.
While this was going on, I could smell a strange smell of rotten meat and disinfectant, as if the fridge had been turned off and the meat went bad inside and that you had just started to clean up the smell. You know what I mean - that smell.
So, anyway, there I was strapped to a box, cuffed, chained and my shorts at my knees. My hard on was back.
I could not see what was going on but I felt a hard plastic thing being placed under my arse. It was a sink bowl. I next felt him put a tube up my ass. I was getting a colonic. There was a blast of cold water and I yelled out in fright, as I would feel the cold water rush up my arse and around my intestine.
?I did not ask for this.? I said. ?Shut up and enjoy it? He said and gave me a hard slap on the arse. I was beginning to think thing were going not as discussed on the emails sent back and forth. I was supposed to here for a bit of noose play. Not a clean out.
When he finished drying off my arse, he slapped it again and left me about half an hour. Still in the same position. I was cold, sore and had pins and needles in my arms with having them behind my back for so long.
When he came back it was now dark and I knew that place had no electricity. I heard a hum and a rumble and knew it as the sound of a small generator. Sure enough, when he came back in, he turned on the lights. I squinted my eyes to get used to the light and turning my head towards the door saw that he had now put a police riot helmet with a tinted visor. Fuck sake the view of him was so horny my dick went hard and I could feel it rub on the suede top.
In his right hand were his gloves, which he brought over and laid on my back. I asked him what the fuck he was up to leaving me there for such a long time. He slapped the top of my head and said, ?If you want to die quicker you should have said.? He put on the gloves and with a hard wooden paddle, started to beat my arse hard. Forty hits he gave me.
He unzipped his leather jeans and went behind to start fucking me. No lube, no nothing. It was hard and aggressive and the pain I was in was unbelievable almost to the point of passing out. When he was finished, back around to the front of the box and got on, facing me with one leg on each side and his dick right in front of my face. Funnily enough, it was clean; after all, he had washed me out first. He pissed on my face and laughed. It was not nice and complained again but what was the use.
He got back off and went around to back again. Not another fucking I thought. But no. Not this time. He produced a large butt plug which I knew if I wanted out I wound really have to push hard. It was painful as he pushed it in, and by this point I knew that trying to pop it out was hurt so much that it was worth the effort, so I left it in.
My shorts were pulled up and tied and the strap and secondary leg cuffs removed. Slowly I stood up and turned around. I called him a bastard, which perhaps was not the right thing to do, but in the heat of the moment, it?s amazing what you will say.
?You talk to much? he said, and brought out a leather gag with a bite plate on it. I would open my mouth to let him put it in until I got a kick in the ribs and fell to the floor face down. He secured the gag and despite my now muffled pleas to stop pulled me back up onto me feet and pushed me in front off him back towards the door.
We started to walk along the corridor to the other staircase at the far end. As we did that smell was getting stronger. The last door on the left just before the stairwell was open. The lights were on in here to and I looked inside and passed out.
I came to and to my horror saw the corpses of six men; all dressed the same as me. White shorts, leather jacket, same boots, and socks everything, just lying on the floor dumped. One still had the chains on his boots. I tried to turn and make a foolish run for the stairs and freedom but it was not to be. I strong smell of chloroform soon put an end to that.
As I woke, I was sitting in a chair in front of a mirror. I was still wearing my shorts and my boots still chained, but I was now wearing a leather straitjacket. It was black leather and the straps very strong and thick. There was no way I was getting out of this. I was also wearing a leather hood with the eye and mouth holes, but I could see and feel that the gag was still there and my mouth was sore with staying open for so long. The room I was in looked like a holding cell. It was. I thought to myself having seen the bodies that this was it. I was going to be murdered; hanged - oh well it would be fun.
There was a bang and the door was opened. Before me stood my executioner and now it was time for me to die. He dragged me out of the cell and into the room where in front of me was the noose. It was big; the rope was thick and looked well used. He pulled me over to the centre of the room and I tried to get up and move away from the rope. A good kick in the ribs soon stopped me. He straddled me from behind and put a full leather hood over the one I was wearing. Immediately it started to bellow out and in and my breathing became fast. My heart was racing, as the fear of impending doom was getting closer. My cock was hard, as the smell of the both the leather hoods got stronger as they got warmer from my sweat and breath.
He pulled me back to the noose by the leather strap, which went around the top of the straitjacket. I must admit it felt so horny. Next I felt the rope go around my neck and he pulled it tight enough to make me gasp. In all the terror and confusion I could feel that I was slowly and gentle being pulled up by the neck until I was standing again.
There I was, I must have been standing for about half an hour. I could not move for fear of hanging myself.
I thought perhaps that this was it. He had had his fun and was going to let me go, but then I remember the bodies in the other room.
There was a sharp blow to my left boot and before I knew what was happening my ankles were being strapped together. This is it. My cock went to full erection and was pushing hard against the front of my shorts which were held down by the two straps that went under my legs and crouch to hold the jacket on. The butt plug would not move either; the same straps where making that secure.
The rope tightened and I could feel my feet leave the floor and I started to turn in the air. My cock bulged as I shot the first load of cum. Then I was back on the ground, standing again. He did this to me five more times - but I only shot one more load.
Finally he lifted me back off the floor, for all I knew it was only a few inches. I spun, I kicked, I writhed, I screamed inside the hoods. The burning pain on my neck was telling me that I was going to be corpse number seven, lying wearing my cum soddened rugby shorts, socks, rangers and biker jacket. To be viewed by the next unsuspecting hangee.