While I continue writing my own original hanging story, please enjoy this repost from the old Gay Male Hanging site.
Many thanks to the original poster, Harness Luke.
I have cleaned up the grammar and spelling a bit from the original.
--
Bondage Buddies’ Last Night
He stood still and cooperative as I tied his hands behind his back with a thick leather strap made from an old belt. Wrist-to-wrist, his hands were now bound tightly together. I took another wide belt and used it to bind his arms together, nearly elbow-to-elbow, creating a firm package of his arms and upper torso.
Then I wound another strap around his ankles binding them together and another belt around his legs just above his knees. I stepped back and watched as he struggled against his bonds to test their strength, jerking his shoulders and knees in futile attempt to find a way out. Tommy was completely immobile and helpless. There was one thing left to do.
The remaining strap was a collar made from a shortened 1-3/4 inch wide garrison belt. Ironically, the collar used to be Tommy's old belt that he had worn for so long before replacing it with another. A metal D-ring was now in place of the keeper, and it was attached to the end of a rope. The collar dangled in front of his face at about the level of his eyes. I took the collar and Tommy pulled himself upright as much as he could, standing on his toes. I was just able to fasten the collar around Tommy's neck, tightening it snuggly, placing the D-ring and rope just behind his left ear. He let himself relax a bit, standing almost flat-footed but as erect as possible with the collar tightly around his neck forcing his head to the right.
This was an amazing sight. I had gotten off on just this fantasy so many times before, and now it was for real. A 24 year old man, perfect in health and fitness; the shirtless muscled arms and shoulders straining against the leather straps; the tight abs with perfect definition flexing with each labored breath. Around his narrow waist Tommy wore a tight, black garrison belt in his 501's. On his feet were black Frye harness boots, and a wide leather cuff was on each wrist, in addition to the leather strap which now bound them together. Tommy had tattoos on each arm and a scorpion tattooed onto his neck, which was now bound inside the collar.
The tight leather straps on his arms made Tommy's chest protrude and the collar made him arch slightly to the right. His clean shaven face and perfect blue eyes were magnificent under the head of shaggy blonde hair. Tommy was a cock-throbbing sight under any conditions, but fully bound with a leather collar around his neck ready to be hanged was a sight beyond words. I sat in a chair and stroked my cock, enjoying the sight, but I didn't cum. That was for later.
I unwound the rope from its hook on the wall and pulled, which made Tommy stand on his toes, barely able to gasp a breath. I left him like that as I fastened the rope again. Now, I went over to Tommy, unbuttoned his fly and fished out his engorged cock. It was as huge and magnificent as you would expect from a young stallion. I freed his cock and balls and discovered that he had on a set of three snug-fitting cock rings, which enhanced his erection and made the veins in his cock protrude. I stroked him a few times and felt his cock beat in my hand. I stopped short of orgasm, letting it drip with pre-cum.
I ran my hands all over his rock hard body, over every muscle in his shoulders and arms, across the tight leather belts binding him securely and helplessly, over his heaving abdomen and his firm pecs. I lingered at the belt in his jeans, taking the buckle in my mouth and tasting the leather, and then back to his enormous cock. I even groped my way down his jeans to his boots and brushed my lips against the leather, pulling on the strap around his ankles with my teeth. I enjoyed Tommy like this for nearly twenty minutes.
But Tommy was starting to give out. His face was turning dark red-purple and his breathing coming only in occasional gasps. His cock must be ready to explode. He couldn't take this much longer. So I went over to the rope, unwound it from the peg and pulled as hard as I could, lifting Tommy off the floor about a foot. Eyes wide, he began to thrash around, pulling hard against the belts binding his arms and legs, rocking back and forth, his face turning darker and darker, his eyes bulging and his mouth fighting for air that was not there. I hugged his convulsing body, burying my face in his chest and held onto his growing cock.
His convulsing and thrashing grew harder and wilder as he tried to free himself or find something to stand on. I held onto his cock, stroking it hard and fast as he began to pump his legs up and down, arching his back in the process. Finally he stiffened, legs straight down. His body arched backwards and he let out an enormous stream of white cum, three, four, five, six times. Then he stopped moving and hung still.
"Man, that watch is full of testosterone!"
That was how I met Tommy a year ago. We were both newly hired by our company, fresh out of school and into our first jobs. I always wore a watch on a very wide leather band—2-1/2 inches wide with three straps and four rings on either side. On my other wrist I wore a wide leather cuff and had a tattoo on my right forearm, an American Indian symbol of the sun. Even well dressed, the watch, cuff and tattoo belied my inner self. Tommy appreciated that. I could tell right away.
He liked to wear black T-shirts with his 501 jeans, along with a broad black garrison belt and black harness boots. Tommy did not wear a watch, but had two leather cuffs, one on each wrist, also black and about 1-3/4 inches wide. They looked great. So did everything else about Tommy. We talked for a while, getting to know one another over lunch and left with the promise to meet again.
I didn't have long to wait. When I got back to my office I found an e-mail from "Thomas White". "Great to meet you… ya da, ya da…. I've done both sides but prefer men. How about you?" Man, this guy doesn't waste time! I'm game. I fired back a note agreeing that for me it was also men. I also said that I like bondage and although versatile, I like getting tied up. I thought that would tell how serious this guy is about being more than a co-worker. I didn't hear anything back.
It was a week later on a Friday. The day passed uneventfully and just when I was about to go home, I got another note from "Thomas White". He simply asked me to stop by his place that evening around 8:00. "BYOB". I smiled to myself. If this guy was what I thought he was, that last "B" didn't mean "beer".
That first night was great. Tommy met me at the door wearing only a full body harness and a big grin. It was the way great relationships get started. That night we explored each other's favorite bondage themes. I chained Tommy to a wall by his wrists and spread his legs with a bar between the ankles. I put an iron collar around his neck and locked it to the wall, as well as a thick weightlifting belt around his waist, and proceeded to caress and torture his body for nearly two hours before he begged me to let him cum.
When it was my turn, Tommy tied me to a rack—making me lie flat on my back, securing my feet with my wrists above my head. He pulled on a mechanism which stretched by body very tightly and then held it there, while he too caressed my body, playing with everything available. He then placed the lit stub of a candle on my stomach so I could watch it heave up and down with my breath. Tommy just leaned against a wall watching me. I soon realized what he intended to do. He let the candle burn all the way down until it began to burn my skin. When it did, I began to thrash about on the rack, pulling and throwing myself around as best I could to get rid of the flame. Finally the flame extinguished itself in a pool of its own wax, but not before leaving a burn mark on my stomach, which still exists today. I'll admit—it was an intense scene.
We met with some regularity over the next year, trying out new ideas on each other. Once, Tommy used a set of medieval wrist and neck irons on me. It was a device that worked like an iron collar except there were wrist cuffs held about 18 inches away on either side, so your hands were locked at the same level as your neck. Something like that is best appreciated in time. After several hours locked in Tommy's dungeon, chained to the wall by the collar, I was desperately needing to flex my arms, but not before Tommy could enjoy working me over.
I used a similar device on him after that. This was a set of rigid cuffs that encased your wrists and ankles at the same time. Ordinarily it was used when you are bending forward, keeping your hands at the level of your feet. However, I used it from behind. I made Tommy lie on his stomach, cuffed his hands behind his back and pulled his legs back to cuff his ankles as well. It made for a totally immobile package. It was wonderful to see that blonde haired hunk bound so helpless on the floor. That's when I got the idea for noose play.
With Tommy bound in the iron cuffs on the floor, there wasn't a lot to do with him other than play with his body and leave him for as long as he could stand. I realized that if I had a rope or a noose or a leather collar, I could put it around his neck and pull him into an upright position on his knees. He wouldn't be balanced at all, but there would not be much weight supported by his neck, so it should be safe. I left Tommy on the floor and went up to his bedroom, shuffling though his closet looking for a suitable belt. The best one I could find was the one he wore every day, still in his jeans from this afternoon. It was a 1-3/4 inch wide garrison belt. It had that smooth feel and terrific leathery smell that comes from years of use. I figured that he probably had this since junior high school and it was high time for another, so I cut the belt down to the length of a collar which could fit around his neck. I punched a few holes to assure a good fit and brought it down to the dungeon. Tommy wasn't aware of what I was about to do, even when he felt his belt—now his collar—being slipped around his neck and buckled behind his head. I tossed a rope over an overhead sewer pipe and tied the other end to a D-ring I had inserted where the keeper of the old belt used to be. By now, Tommy figured out what I was going to do and started to protest, but I pulled on the rope which shut him up quick. Raising him off the ground was a little hard for he had to really stiffen his neck to avoid his head being ripped backward, but soon I had him upright on the mat, "standing" on his knees. It was a really cool sight; Tommy bound hand and foot behind his back with thick iron cuffs, all being supported by a leather collar from the ceiling. For good measure, I pulled harder on the rope and succeeded in lifting Tommy off the floor a few inches. I quickly tied off the rope and moved down to help Tommy relieve his load. He was being fully hanged now, his face contorted and his body shaking, but I massaged his cock until he let loose with the biggest load of cum I had ever seen. I quickly let the rope loose and lowered Tommy to the ground, gently easing him back to the mat. I wondered if he would be mad at me or not.
He wasn't mad—he thought that was the best bondage scene he'd ever done. Now he was hooked on noose play, and so was I. Later on I wanted to experience being hanged with the iron manacles as I had done to Tommy. Man, I gotta tell you, he was right. It was pretty intense. Being shackled behind your back, wrists and ankles bound together with thick irons was great by itself, but to have someone slip a leather collar around your neck and haul you upright by your neck was so erotic. Then to be jacked off while you are pulled off the floor, hanging by your neck, arms and legs so firmly bound behind your back in that weird position, your legs pulling so hard against your arms and wrists…that was ecstasy.
We both knew that being hanged had an element of danger in it, which probably made it so erotic for both of us. But we both were in excellent physical shape, were under six feet tall and weighed only about 150 pounds each, so we gambled that our necks could stand a stretching without being broken, if done correctly, and that we could also withstand a full strangulation hang for a given time before permanent damage was done. Tommy wanted to try a standing hang next. He wanted me to bind his arms behind his back and strap his legs together like they did to really execute someone, and pull him up by the neck into a full hang. We decided to use his collar, concerned that a rope would prove too dangerous. As in a real execution, we scheduled the date to be two months away. We continued to fuck and do bondage play, but the real thing was coming. The anticipation made it like the longest foreplay imaginable.
I lowered Tommy down to the floor and unfastened the collar from his neck. When I did, I did not see the dark purple color draining from his face as I had thought it would. I slapped his face a few times but got no response. I knelt down to his face listening for breath. I felt his pulse in his neck. Oh SHIT!
I tried CPR for the longest time to no avail. Tommy was dead. Dead. This wasn't supposed to happen! We thought everything through. How could he die so quickly? Was it the way he was shaking and thrashing against his bonds that did damage? I sat next to him for a long time, trying to figure out what to do. There was no WAY that I could call for an ambulance. I couldn't run because lots of other people knew Tommy and I were bondage buddies. Jeezus Christ! I killed a man! The cops would throw me in jail… I would endure a trial that might happen two years from now…. I would spend the rest of my life in prison, or if lucky be executed. No. I'm into bondage but I'm not built to be a real prisoner. There was only one way out.
I took the straps from Tommy's body and standing on a stool, I wound them around my own ankles and legs. The collar—the same collar that killed Tommy, the same collar which used to be Tommy's belt that he wore since high school—I tied to the hook in the ceiling and placed it around my neck. I fastened it very tight, much tighter than I did on Tommy's neck, so that I was practically being strangled already. Since I couldn't bind my own wrists and arms, I used a pair of handcuffs, locking them around my wrists and tossing the key across the room. While looking at Tommy lying on the floor, I stepped off the stool.
The leather collar bit into my neck, yanking my head to the right. I felt my body tense and I instinctively struggled against the handcuffs and the straps on my legs. The blood pounded in my head and I could not breathe at all. In my struggle, I began to rotate slowly. Harder and harder I struggled. I wanted to die, but I fought the noose and my bonds instinctively. I felt a rise within my cock, an explosive build-up what I knew would be my last. I raised my legs then thrust them downward, arching my back as I let out my enormous load of cum. As I finished with the last thrust, just before I lost consciousness forever, I was able to open my left eye and through hazy, dim vision, look at Tommy once more. And I saw him move.
Many thanks to the original poster, Harness Luke.
I have cleaned up the grammar and spelling a bit from the original.
--
Bondage Buddies’ Last Night
He stood still and cooperative as I tied his hands behind his back with a thick leather strap made from an old belt. Wrist-to-wrist, his hands were now bound tightly together. I took another wide belt and used it to bind his arms together, nearly elbow-to-elbow, creating a firm package of his arms and upper torso.
Then I wound another strap around his ankles binding them together and another belt around his legs just above his knees. I stepped back and watched as he struggled against his bonds to test their strength, jerking his shoulders and knees in futile attempt to find a way out. Tommy was completely immobile and helpless. There was one thing left to do.
The remaining strap was a collar made from a shortened 1-3/4 inch wide garrison belt. Ironically, the collar used to be Tommy's old belt that he had worn for so long before replacing it with another. A metal D-ring was now in place of the keeper, and it was attached to the end of a rope. The collar dangled in front of his face at about the level of his eyes. I took the collar and Tommy pulled himself upright as much as he could, standing on his toes. I was just able to fasten the collar around Tommy's neck, tightening it snuggly, placing the D-ring and rope just behind his left ear. He let himself relax a bit, standing almost flat-footed but as erect as possible with the collar tightly around his neck forcing his head to the right.
This was an amazing sight. I had gotten off on just this fantasy so many times before, and now it was for real. A 24 year old man, perfect in health and fitness; the shirtless muscled arms and shoulders straining against the leather straps; the tight abs with perfect definition flexing with each labored breath. Around his narrow waist Tommy wore a tight, black garrison belt in his 501's. On his feet were black Frye harness boots, and a wide leather cuff was on each wrist, in addition to the leather strap which now bound them together. Tommy had tattoos on each arm and a scorpion tattooed onto his neck, which was now bound inside the collar.
The tight leather straps on his arms made Tommy's chest protrude and the collar made him arch slightly to the right. His clean shaven face and perfect blue eyes were magnificent under the head of shaggy blonde hair. Tommy was a cock-throbbing sight under any conditions, but fully bound with a leather collar around his neck ready to be hanged was a sight beyond words. I sat in a chair and stroked my cock, enjoying the sight, but I didn't cum. That was for later.
I unwound the rope from its hook on the wall and pulled, which made Tommy stand on his toes, barely able to gasp a breath. I left him like that as I fastened the rope again. Now, I went over to Tommy, unbuttoned his fly and fished out his engorged cock. It was as huge and magnificent as you would expect from a young stallion. I freed his cock and balls and discovered that he had on a set of three snug-fitting cock rings, which enhanced his erection and made the veins in his cock protrude. I stroked him a few times and felt his cock beat in my hand. I stopped short of orgasm, letting it drip with pre-cum.
I ran my hands all over his rock hard body, over every muscle in his shoulders and arms, across the tight leather belts binding him securely and helplessly, over his heaving abdomen and his firm pecs. I lingered at the belt in his jeans, taking the buckle in my mouth and tasting the leather, and then back to his enormous cock. I even groped my way down his jeans to his boots and brushed my lips against the leather, pulling on the strap around his ankles with my teeth. I enjoyed Tommy like this for nearly twenty minutes.
But Tommy was starting to give out. His face was turning dark red-purple and his breathing coming only in occasional gasps. His cock must be ready to explode. He couldn't take this much longer. So I went over to the rope, unwound it from the peg and pulled as hard as I could, lifting Tommy off the floor about a foot. Eyes wide, he began to thrash around, pulling hard against the belts binding his arms and legs, rocking back and forth, his face turning darker and darker, his eyes bulging and his mouth fighting for air that was not there. I hugged his convulsing body, burying my face in his chest and held onto his growing cock.
His convulsing and thrashing grew harder and wilder as he tried to free himself or find something to stand on. I held onto his cock, stroking it hard and fast as he began to pump his legs up and down, arching his back in the process. Finally he stiffened, legs straight down. His body arched backwards and he let out an enormous stream of white cum, three, four, five, six times. Then he stopped moving and hung still.
---------
"Man, that watch is full of testosterone!"
That was how I met Tommy a year ago. We were both newly hired by our company, fresh out of school and into our first jobs. I always wore a watch on a very wide leather band—2-1/2 inches wide with three straps and four rings on either side. On my other wrist I wore a wide leather cuff and had a tattoo on my right forearm, an American Indian symbol of the sun. Even well dressed, the watch, cuff and tattoo belied my inner self. Tommy appreciated that. I could tell right away.
He liked to wear black T-shirts with his 501 jeans, along with a broad black garrison belt and black harness boots. Tommy did not wear a watch, but had two leather cuffs, one on each wrist, also black and about 1-3/4 inches wide. They looked great. So did everything else about Tommy. We talked for a while, getting to know one another over lunch and left with the promise to meet again.
I didn't have long to wait. When I got back to my office I found an e-mail from "Thomas White". "Great to meet you… ya da, ya da…. I've done both sides but prefer men. How about you?" Man, this guy doesn't waste time! I'm game. I fired back a note agreeing that for me it was also men. I also said that I like bondage and although versatile, I like getting tied up. I thought that would tell how serious this guy is about being more than a co-worker. I didn't hear anything back.
It was a week later on a Friday. The day passed uneventfully and just when I was about to go home, I got another note from "Thomas White". He simply asked me to stop by his place that evening around 8:00. "BYOB". I smiled to myself. If this guy was what I thought he was, that last "B" didn't mean "beer".
That first night was great. Tommy met me at the door wearing only a full body harness and a big grin. It was the way great relationships get started. That night we explored each other's favorite bondage themes. I chained Tommy to a wall by his wrists and spread his legs with a bar between the ankles. I put an iron collar around his neck and locked it to the wall, as well as a thick weightlifting belt around his waist, and proceeded to caress and torture his body for nearly two hours before he begged me to let him cum.
When it was my turn, Tommy tied me to a rack—making me lie flat on my back, securing my feet with my wrists above my head. He pulled on a mechanism which stretched by body very tightly and then held it there, while he too caressed my body, playing with everything available. He then placed the lit stub of a candle on my stomach so I could watch it heave up and down with my breath. Tommy just leaned against a wall watching me. I soon realized what he intended to do. He let the candle burn all the way down until it began to burn my skin. When it did, I began to thrash about on the rack, pulling and throwing myself around as best I could to get rid of the flame. Finally the flame extinguished itself in a pool of its own wax, but not before leaving a burn mark on my stomach, which still exists today. I'll admit—it was an intense scene.
We met with some regularity over the next year, trying out new ideas on each other. Once, Tommy used a set of medieval wrist and neck irons on me. It was a device that worked like an iron collar except there were wrist cuffs held about 18 inches away on either side, so your hands were locked at the same level as your neck. Something like that is best appreciated in time. After several hours locked in Tommy's dungeon, chained to the wall by the collar, I was desperately needing to flex my arms, but not before Tommy could enjoy working me over.
I used a similar device on him after that. This was a set of rigid cuffs that encased your wrists and ankles at the same time. Ordinarily it was used when you are bending forward, keeping your hands at the level of your feet. However, I used it from behind. I made Tommy lie on his stomach, cuffed his hands behind his back and pulled his legs back to cuff his ankles as well. It made for a totally immobile package. It was wonderful to see that blonde haired hunk bound so helpless on the floor. That's when I got the idea for noose play.
With Tommy bound in the iron cuffs on the floor, there wasn't a lot to do with him other than play with his body and leave him for as long as he could stand. I realized that if I had a rope or a noose or a leather collar, I could put it around his neck and pull him into an upright position on his knees. He wouldn't be balanced at all, but there would not be much weight supported by his neck, so it should be safe. I left Tommy on the floor and went up to his bedroom, shuffling though his closet looking for a suitable belt. The best one I could find was the one he wore every day, still in his jeans from this afternoon. It was a 1-3/4 inch wide garrison belt. It had that smooth feel and terrific leathery smell that comes from years of use. I figured that he probably had this since junior high school and it was high time for another, so I cut the belt down to the length of a collar which could fit around his neck. I punched a few holes to assure a good fit and brought it down to the dungeon. Tommy wasn't aware of what I was about to do, even when he felt his belt—now his collar—being slipped around his neck and buckled behind his head. I tossed a rope over an overhead sewer pipe and tied the other end to a D-ring I had inserted where the keeper of the old belt used to be. By now, Tommy figured out what I was going to do and started to protest, but I pulled on the rope which shut him up quick. Raising him off the ground was a little hard for he had to really stiffen his neck to avoid his head being ripped backward, but soon I had him upright on the mat, "standing" on his knees. It was a really cool sight; Tommy bound hand and foot behind his back with thick iron cuffs, all being supported by a leather collar from the ceiling. For good measure, I pulled harder on the rope and succeeded in lifting Tommy off the floor a few inches. I quickly tied off the rope and moved down to help Tommy relieve his load. He was being fully hanged now, his face contorted and his body shaking, but I massaged his cock until he let loose with the biggest load of cum I had ever seen. I quickly let the rope loose and lowered Tommy to the ground, gently easing him back to the mat. I wondered if he would be mad at me or not.
He wasn't mad—he thought that was the best bondage scene he'd ever done. Now he was hooked on noose play, and so was I. Later on I wanted to experience being hanged with the iron manacles as I had done to Tommy. Man, I gotta tell you, he was right. It was pretty intense. Being shackled behind your back, wrists and ankles bound together with thick irons was great by itself, but to have someone slip a leather collar around your neck and haul you upright by your neck was so erotic. Then to be jacked off while you are pulled off the floor, hanging by your neck, arms and legs so firmly bound behind your back in that weird position, your legs pulling so hard against your arms and wrists…that was ecstasy.
We both knew that being hanged had an element of danger in it, which probably made it so erotic for both of us. But we both were in excellent physical shape, were under six feet tall and weighed only about 150 pounds each, so we gambled that our necks could stand a stretching without being broken, if done correctly, and that we could also withstand a full strangulation hang for a given time before permanent damage was done. Tommy wanted to try a standing hang next. He wanted me to bind his arms behind his back and strap his legs together like they did to really execute someone, and pull him up by the neck into a full hang. We decided to use his collar, concerned that a rope would prove too dangerous. As in a real execution, we scheduled the date to be two months away. We continued to fuck and do bondage play, but the real thing was coming. The anticipation made it like the longest foreplay imaginable.
---------
I lowered Tommy down to the floor and unfastened the collar from his neck. When I did, I did not see the dark purple color draining from his face as I had thought it would. I slapped his face a few times but got no response. I knelt down to his face listening for breath. I felt his pulse in his neck. Oh SHIT!
I tried CPR for the longest time to no avail. Tommy was dead. Dead. This wasn't supposed to happen! We thought everything through. How could he die so quickly? Was it the way he was shaking and thrashing against his bonds that did damage? I sat next to him for a long time, trying to figure out what to do. There was no WAY that I could call for an ambulance. I couldn't run because lots of other people knew Tommy and I were bondage buddies. Jeezus Christ! I killed a man! The cops would throw me in jail… I would endure a trial that might happen two years from now…. I would spend the rest of my life in prison, or if lucky be executed. No. I'm into bondage but I'm not built to be a real prisoner. There was only one way out.
I took the straps from Tommy's body and standing on a stool, I wound them around my own ankles and legs. The collar—the same collar that killed Tommy, the same collar which used to be Tommy's belt that he wore since high school—I tied to the hook in the ceiling and placed it around my neck. I fastened it very tight, much tighter than I did on Tommy's neck, so that I was practically being strangled already. Since I couldn't bind my own wrists and arms, I used a pair of handcuffs, locking them around my wrists and tossing the key across the room. While looking at Tommy lying on the floor, I stepped off the stool.
The leather collar bit into my neck, yanking my head to the right. I felt my body tense and I instinctively struggled against the handcuffs and the straps on my legs. The blood pounded in my head and I could not breathe at all. In my struggle, I began to rotate slowly. Harder and harder I struggled. I wanted to die, but I fought the noose and my bonds instinctively. I felt a rise within my cock, an explosive build-up what I knew would be my last. I raised my legs then thrust them downward, arching my back as I let out my enormous load of cum. As I finished with the last thrust, just before I lost consciousness forever, I was able to open my left eye and through hazy, dim vision, look at Tommy once more. And I saw him move.
