Chris and Mike and Tony and Cameron - two couples hang
Here's a new story - been a long time since I wrote any.
And a bit of an informal poll - Part 1 is quite sweet and vanilla (so far as scat and hanging can ever be vanilla!), but two is a bit darker and raunchier. I prefer Part 1 - which do you prefer?
Part 1 - Chris and Mike
Know how busses always come in pairs or threes? Today at the Population Reducton Unit, we had two 'non-couples' walk through the door within five minutes, both asking to hang themselves together. 'Non-couples'- we all know them, the two guys who hang out together, often really close, but somehow you know they're not doing it sexually.
First pair in was Chris and Mike - really cute warm friendly young guys, always together, no surprise they wanted to be together as they died. Both very normal young guys, average height, cute good looks, Chris's hair fairer and Mike's darker, but quite a resemblance (could almost have been brothers, but they weren't). Before I'd even taken them through to the Death Rooms, the bell rang again. This time it was Cameron and Tony. I'd not liked them so much - Tony was quite tall, slightly ginger hair brushed sideways, freckly, quite good-looking in a good-natured sleepy sort of way - he was Ok. At first sight Cameron was the eye-catcher - fair hair, always trendily dressed (part-time model as well as student), very good-looking. But there was something hard about him, and I don't mean that nicely - an arrogance in his face, an attitude in his behaviour. Although he and Tony were often together, I wasn't the only one to feel that Cameron was exploiting Tony somehow - that Tony loved and wanted Cameron, but Cameron used that to get his way, led Tony on without ever giving him the sexual union that he wanted.
Anyway, Chris and Mike had got there first, and there's only one room suitable for a pair to hang - one of the side-rooms, with two side-by-side nooses at each end of a hanging bar across the back of the room. It's a new well-designed facility - below the bar there's a tiled trough and drain for anything that drips from the bodies as they die, and access to the nooses is by a little hydraulic platform. Couples generally want to hang themselves rather than have an attendant do it, so there's a button on the platform that lowers it maybe a foot, then swings it away. I showed all four guys the room in which they were about to die, and showed them how to work the switch. The room is open to the main Death Room, but there's a curtain - these days I'm expected to be in there with them as they die, but most couples don't want a bigger audience for their final struggles. I asked Chris and Mike to strip to the waist and remove their shoes, then led them through as Tony and Cameron waited for their turn.
They walked straight to the platform and up the steps, both trim and lean, their jeans complementing their slim torsos, Chris touching Mike's back briefly as they stepped up. They put the nooses round their necks quickly and quiety, facing each other up close, smiling as if they were trying on new clothes, Mike reaching up and adjusting Chris's noose slightly 'Glad I'm dying with you, buddy'. 'And you! Hope we stay together if we thrash about'. They looked round, I guess for anything to tie themselves together. We hadn't thought of that one, so there wasn't. Chris looked a bit embarrassed - 'I know how we can do it'. He undid his jeans and pushed them down to the knees, bending to a half-sitting position and motioning MIke to put his legs through the gap between his half-mast jeans and his crotch, where a rather nice bulge showed in his white briefs - plain white bikini briefs, very new looking, no fly opening or waistband, small and quite thin cotton. Mike also looked embarrassed - he started to step into the gap, then stopped. 'Hang on'. He stripped his jeans right off, naked except for his socks and briefs - also white small and low-rise, but a bit less new, with a plain waistband and a pouch opening. then he stepped through the gap, his thighs between Chris's , his lower legs behind Chris's jeans and legs. As they stood up, adjusted each other's nooses, and kissed briefly on the lips, their packages must have been touching. 'Hope I don't do anythig embarrassing'. 'It's Ok Chris, if you do I'll probably be doing it too'.
It was Mike who reached out and pressed the button to hang them both. The platform dropped then swung away, the nooses tightening round both necks fast but smoothly. Their windpipes closed almost at once, and within a few seconds they were starting to struggle , instinctively, the nooses biting into their necks, their faces almost touching as they started to flush, their arms and legs kicking, struggling, thrashing, their legs held together by Chris's jeans. After a couple of minutes their struggles were gettng weaker and less organised, their lips swollen and turning blue, saliva dribbling down their chins and starting to drip onto each other's struggling chests as their tongues started to protrude, their faces almost touching. I know from experience that that's when the convulsions and loss of control tend to start, so I switched my attention to their waists, swinging together at face height in front of my eyes.
Their packages were bigger now, I guessed both cocks were a bit engorged though not yet erect. Chris was the first to empty his bladder, piss soaking the front of his underpants before a jet shot out horizontally, onto Mike's package. I'll swear Mike's twitching right hand patted Chris's lower back, as if to say 'it's Ok, buddy'. Within second's Mike's stream was shooting back, both guys wetting themselves and each other as they struggled, their mixed piss runnig down their legs, soaking Chris's jeans and dripping from their scrabbling socked feet intio the trough. As they rotated, Chris's backside was in front of me, his buttocks clenching visibly through the thin white cotton, the outline of his crack visible through the fabric. I think Mike was the first to lose control of his bowels, but only by seconds, the back of his briefs bulging and sagging moments before Chris's also became soiled. It had a certain intimate companionship - the dying bodies spasming and twitching against each other as the dying friends emptied themselves almost in unison, anuses open as their soiled underpants sagged away from their crotches and the stains spread and became wetter, their now-soiled packages touching as their mess mixed on their thighs, in Chris's sodden half-mast jeans, and in the puddle that was forming below their twitching feet.
Looking in from the side, I could see that they both had erections now, their tented underwear pushing against each other, their bodies making feeble thrusting movements. Chris's cock was right up to the top of his bikini briefs, pushing them out from his stomach and showing the top of his light brown hair as his body arched back slightly, his legs open with Mike's between them. Mike's bulge was also erect, the tip just below his waistband. As Chris's contractions swung him forward, his cock slipped out of his briefs - long, quite thin, uncut, and coming to orgasm almost at once as his briefs slid down the shaft. The first spurts went onto Mike's stomach and the outside of his underwear, but as Chris spasmed and came his left hand swung in between them , somehow hooking inside the elastic of Mike's pants and pulling it out and down over his erection. His cock was a bit larger than Chris's, also uncut and a bit wedge-shaped, and for a moment their death-erections jousted tip to tip, spurting onto each other's members, stomachs and underwear, the spunk dribbling down each other's skin inside their underwear and onto their pubic hair.
The it was over - they dangled limp, their dead dribbling faces flopped on each other's shoulders, the spunk of their angel lust soaking their pubes, the intimate twinness of their soiled underwear startling as they rotated, ther body fluids mixing from the spittle on their chests via their spunked crotches and the shared mess on their thighs to the pool of fluids in the trough below.
