"Well Hung" - erotic hanging play


Posted by Clizia on October 02, 2003 at 01:20:31:

“Well Hung”
By Clizia Cockspur, copyright 2003

**************

Pestering me to get married again? When I said I would strangle you first? Don’t you know I mean it? I’m so pissed off, I get up and stand in the bay window with my back to you. Neon signs dance and dissolve in the pouring rain. People are driving past. Where to, in weather like this? To the cinema? Now you’ve come up, giggling idiotically, pressing your cock against my bottom and nibbling my earlobe like you don’t mean marriage at all… just screwage, eh? Do you have ANY brains?

I turn, put my hand over your mouth, leave the room. If you trust me, you can expect me back sooner or later. And if I don’t return? Won’t you have fretted that big hard cock of yours to sleep?

**************

I’ve done pretty well while I’ve been away. You’ll have heard my bare feet thudding up and down the stairs, doors opening and closing, and those quieter, cryptic noises. Yes, I’ve been going through my drawers, rifling for things. Meantime you’ve been stretched out on the sofa in your tight jeans, scratching your long, untidy hair and yawning. When you see me re-enter the lounge, your eyes open wide. How I’ve changed! Has your dream come true? I’m wearing a Phantom of the Opera mask with tacky lace gloves and a leather thong from Ann Summers. Look how snugly my bulging cunt is cupped! And she is freshly shaved. Would you have me at the altar like this? Across my bare breasts there’s the shark’s tooth necklace from Brighton Lanes. I have on my black espadrilles, tightly laced at the calves. Remember? It’s like the get-up you suggested last week - and which I refused to wear because I was not playing the dominatrix just to please you. You think I wasn’t serious? This is for YOUR benefit?

Surprise and wonder flicker across your face. Then joy! Stirred from your red wine and the sloth of an evening in from the rain, you leap to embrace me. But uh-oh, Buster! I hold up my hand to stop you. Think you can kiss me and spoil my routine? No way! I twist my lips into a snarl that tells you to hold your horses. Between my fingers I’m dangling an old leather shoelace,

Get naked!

Good boy! You do as you are told, peeling off and piling your clothes in a heap on the floor. Guess what’s coming next! Well done! Without speaking, you turn and hold your hands behind your back. I tie you securely. Then I pull out a black silk scarf (I have tucked it, like a tail, into the rear of my thong) and blindfold you with it. You are my total prisoner. You stand erect and breathe strongly. You are flushed and excited, pondering what will become of you in my hands. I pull a handkerchief from your pocket, roll it up and stick it into your mouth. That’s right, you’re not expected to say anything, and you can breathe through your nose. Presently, I stroke your hairy legs, your sunburnt arms, the bare white skin of your torso. You shiver at the touch of the lace gloves. I pet your cock. It has already swollen to about half full size, the foreskin gradually peeling back. I take the skin between forefinger and thumb and give it a sharp tug forward,

Walk!

Pulling you by the skin of your cock, I lead you out of the lounge, down the hall and up the stairs. You stumble on the stair-carpet but must trust me. We go along the landing and up the narrow staircase that climbs into the attic. It’s a stark room with bare wooden floorboards and an unshielded bulb. Rain hammers onto the roof. The hammock was swinging here, remember the fun we had? Well I’ve taken it down now, and from one of its hooks hangs a length of rope. This should be fun, too. Of course you can’t see the noose yet, but I hope you’ll approve of the slipknot when you do: the one trick I learned in my time as a girl guide.

Up!

I make you stand up on a stool I’ve set up below the rope. Your chest is heaving. I move away and let you wait in silence for a few breaths, shivering in the coolish air. Then I make you stoop, and I undo the blindfold. At first you can’t see in the harsh brightness of the bulb. Then your eyes get focused and your Adam’s apple suddenly bobs up and down. Your shoulders twitch and your cock shrivels up. I watch, fascinated, as it shrinks between your balls. It cowers, like a worm dropped in a nest of eggs. Then I resume the ceremony,

You have been found guilty of conjugal fantasies. The penalty is to wear a noose round the neck till you come to your senses. Sentence to be carried out immediately!

I fetch another stool, stand on it and fit the noose over your head. If I’ve got the length just right, you’ll have an inch or two of give in your knees. Yes.

Comfortable?

You nod uncertainly, gulp.

Blindfold?

You think about this one before shaking your head. Want to see what I do? Good. I smile and tuck the black silk handkerchief back into my thong. Then I step down off my stool. I pirouette and bend for you, blow a kiss from between my legs,

Any last request?

You nod with certainty. Your Adam’s apple bobs against the noose.

Equipment: a bowl of sweet walnut oil and the Welsh love spoon. I sit on the stool and your crotch is level with my face. Your cock has filled out nicely again. Carefully, I roll back the foreskin and anoint the head and shaft with oil. Then I put the love spoon to my lips and take a little into my mouth. The beauty of oil is that it lubricates the skin and protects it from the acid in saliva; and here’s a useful tip: walnut oil tastes lovely and nutty. Oh, yes, did you know? I spent yesterday afternoon reading a whole manual on the little wife’s duties in that department! Slooshing a little more oil round my mouth, I check your cock. Ah good, it has pumped up to its full size! I begin by kissing it, as if in greeting. Meantime my hands are not idle, cupping your balls and stroking your bum. My kisses become nibbles, then little sucks, then out comes my tongue. Slowly, rhythmically I flick my tongue over the rim of your cock head. Then I take you right into my mouth. I move my head back and forth and slide my tongue from side to side. Hmm?

Suddenly I stop. You have started moving your hips in time to the sucking. That’s not on! I spit you out,

Don’t move.

I won’t have you running this show. You let out a long breath. You thought you could just come into my mouth, eh? That’s not how they do it in the porno videos you make us watch. They go on and on… and on and on…. and so will you. I will have you come in my time, not yours. I blow on your cock to cool it down, spoon on fresh oil. It has lost some of its stiffness. It can lose a little more. I squeeze your balls and draw the foreskin down. Meanwhile, I’ve begun using my other hand to frig myself off a little. I’m cramped in this position and need some relief of my own. That’s better! Feels lovely and moist. But not too much of that just yet. I stick the point of my tongue into your little cock hole and give you a few long hand strokes. There, only when you’re good and ready do I take you right back into my mouth.

Soon I have you crossing your plateau, which should give time to contemplate the next phase. Your noose is tight enough to cause mild asphyxiation, which also draws things out. As I trace the boundaries of your sex with my tongue, I wonder what is going through your head? Are we in touch at all, you and me? Do we share the same fantasies? In my mind’s eye you are Dick Turpin, standing defiantly on the gallows. I am your faithful Moll, kneeling at your feet to grant your last wish. The crowd roars us on. The hangman twangs the rope. Do these thoughts excite you as much as they do me? Perhaps? I feel you spasming. Your breathing deepens, quickens, your hips twitch, your thighs go tense and you roll forward onto the balls of your feet. Each time you are on the point of letting go, I gently squeeze your balls until you fall back onto your heels. This is all on my terms. I stop sucking again and apply fresh oil.

As it goes on, I move my tongue progressively slower. Your cock swells to an entirely new size. Yet you are completely relaxed now, your breathing has slowed and deepened further. Now, welling up out of its relaxed state, your body seems to lighten – almost to levitate. Your legs straighten out. There! I feel a sudden, involuntary jolt in your scrotum, the onset of involuntary orgasm. I pull my mouth away from your cock, hold the skin back and aim with both hands. Hot cum quickly flicks across my lips and mask… once, twice, three times. You make no vocal sound, just a hissing of breath. There is a pause, then more gobs of thicker cum ooze out. I smear them on my breasts.

Good boy!

I close my mouth over your cock again, run my arms round your bum. You are swaying gently and your knees are quite bent.

**************

Lick it off.

I am standing on my, in front of you. It’s only a minute or so after your orgasm. The expression on your face is a curious mixture of relief and strain. You must dearly wish to lie down. But you can’t. Your eyelids are heavy and the skin from your shoulders to your hairline is brick red. I have cum all over my mask and face; I can feel it running down my chin and breasts,

Lick.

I fully realise lapping up your own cum may be distasteful, especially in your present, post-tumescent state, but eat it you must. Obediently you lick my mask and face. I rise to the balls of my feet and lean on your shoulders, so you can reach my neck and breasts. You gulp the last of it down and give me a little smile.

I check the rope. Easy boy! No, I am not going to end it here. Your last request has still some way to go.

OK?

You nod and smile, a trifle wearily. Legs feel heavy eh? Aching to take the weight off? I get down off the stool and stroke your feet. Such nice shapely feet, your toes long and thin and squared off at the ends. I pull out that black silk handkerchief again, and tie one end of it round your right ankle. I give it a tug. Tight enough to take the strain? I run my fingernails under the arch of your foot and tickle. You lift your foot and shake it. In a second I have grabbed it by the ankle and pulled it clear. You wobble and let out a gasp! You are on the stool with the noose round your neck, standing on one leg!

Steady!

I hook the leg over my shoulder. You think this is to help? Think again! I quickly tie the other end of the scarf to the lace at your wrists. And let go. That’s called a standing half hog-tie, by the way – another thing I learned as a Girl Guide. I’ve got hidden depths, don’t you know! I step back to admire my work. Perfect! You shudder and sway, the veins in your left calf standing out very nicely.

Now watch!

Why am I doing this? What are we doing, even? Well, I’m going to wank off and you’re going to stand there and watch. Surprised? Well, Good Morning! If you’d only bothered to ask, you’d have known I’ve wanted to do this since we’ve been together. No, I’ve never had the chance! Come on, you do all the initiating when we’re having sex! You do so, too! And haven’t I watched you often enough? You do it every time I’ve got my period. You look forward to doing it, don’t think I don’t know.

Don’t close your eyes!

Maybe it’s weird, but I get a real thrill out of watching you going through your moves. No, it’s BETTER than a porno! I love the way you stop, lick the palms of your hands and roll your cock between them. I’m amazed how you can bend it down into that painful angle, give it a few slow pulls and then let it go. The way it slaps back against your belly fills me with joy. I know you do these things to make the pleasure last longer. Wanking off takes you an age to reach orgasm, much longer than sex, and I don’t mind that at all. The longer the better! I lie watching you, imagining you ten years ago with a torch and a magazine under the bed covers. Remember how you told me that? Well, in my fantasy the magazine is ME. Do you know, when I’m alone and feeling hot that’s exactly the image I use to bring myself off: you man-handling your cock while I woman-handle my clit.

Don’t turn your head!

Recently I never get to wank off, there’s no time or space. Before, when sex was a purely solo affair for me, I wanked to orgasm four or five times a night. Nowadays, OK getting shagged is great, but I miss the independence and… spontaneity of wanking. I especially miss the fantasies, the concentration, the coming over and over again, the orgasms getting stronger and then dying away. You say you wouldn’t mind? Look, I know about you. The very thought of me wanking turns you off. It’s like I’m letting you down. Go on, still won’t admit it? Well, I CAN prove it! The few times I have wanked what did you do? Nothing! Turned over and pretended to sleep. Done what? Well, you could have squeezed my arse… sucked my nipples… said rude things. Am I right? Come on, it’s true, I never get to wank. Not for my own amusement, which would make me happy - nor for yours, which would make me happier still. Yes, loverboy, it’s true. Ungh? Like I’m happy to watch you, of course! And why not enjoy watching and helping? Is it like a perversion? How d’you think I feel when you wank off and come on my breasts? Fine! But you don’t have periods? Well, you have enough moods.

Take the strain on your toes - lean forward!

Anyway, now you are my prisoner you can’t avoid it. And if you try turning over and going to sleep, you’ll fall off your stool and get hanged! The perfect crime, eh? One kick and… Now, now don’t be a spoilsport! All you have to do is watch.

As you struggle to balance on your little wooden stool, I have laid out a rug and cushions for myself. I light a stick of incense, take off my gloves and espadrilles, kneel down. I get rid of this damn thong, which is oh-so-tight, pulling it down and kicking it away without ceremony. Nice! My cunt feels great to be free of her pouch. She’s a volcano, you know – been dormant for yonks - and just fit to erupt. See how her smooth slopes are swollen and puckered. Can you smell her fire and brimstone, hear her rumbles, see her lava beginning to flow? I glance up to see if you are looking. You are! I even fancy your nose twitches.

Listen!

I must explain what goes through my mind at these times, else what I do won’t make much sense. You see, wanking off is much more about what happens in my head than what goes on between my hands and clit… and believe me, over the years, I’ve spent a lot of time in this little head of mine. How did I get started? Well my straight ‘sex education’ if you want to call it that - came from reading an old beaten up copy of the Kama Sutra, which I found in the boxroom at home. Being the lonesome traveller, as it were, I needed to adapt what I read to my own little games. I was already experimenting with wanking, but had naively fixated my sexy feelings onto animals. As I was fooling with my clit, I thought of myself as a cow being milked, or a kitten being licked by its mother. So when I got hold of that book, I was shocked to discover sex was not just my own weird fantasy, but a real thing. And something you did with a man, of all creatures! What a revelation that was. Anyhow, I wasn’t completely surprised when it turned out the Kama Sutra is full of references to animals - like a woman is either a deer or an elephant, and a man is a horse or a bull – which made a lot of sense to me. So I began imagining I was, for example, a monkey. Or a goat, even a rabbit. And to make up for the lack of a man, I invented ‘poses’ according to how I guessed the animals would do their own Kama Sutra. Here’s what I call the ‘monkey’s heel’ – where I sit on the floor, like so.

Comfortable?

Now I reach for the oil and rub it all around my cunt. Then I do my heels. Strange position, eh? Lifting a foot with both hands, I press the heel right into my cunt and begin rubbing it up and down. Oooh, that feels nice! After a minute or so of this, I change heels. Lovely feeling! And the stretch goes right up to the thighs. I’m doing this without stopping until my juices start pouring and my clit is aching to be touched. But notice how I keep my hands away from her, which builds the tension up. The ‘monkey’s heel’ doesn’t open me up, my clit stays tucked inside her hood as the thick outer flaps are worked. I look up. Glad to say, your eyebrows have narrowed. You are staring intently!

When I’m good and juicy (which, in this case, I already am!), we move on to the ‘the squat of the hare’. I squat, with my heels quite far apart on the rug. I splay my feet and hold my calves to my haunches. See how my knees squash my tits up, and I’m all open at the crotch? With one hand I finger my nipples, and with the other I reach under my bottom and start poking at my cunt hole. Can you see that? Neat, isn’t it? I work my index finger inside, then stop moving my finger and start swinging from the hips - as if the finger were a cock and I were squatting over it. As my hole widens I push my forefinger in too, and gently place my thumb over my clit. This is the first time I have touched her and she is very sensitive. Wow! OK, by swinging my hips and not moving my hand at all, look how my thumb and my clit are just glancing each other on the down strokes. See? You know, I am doing this more awkwardly than usual, so you can observe the details. It’s an effort, but I get an extra thrill out knowing you’re watching.

Take it easy up there!

It’s not working. The fact is, I feel awkward in this position – which doesn’t really succeed as an ‘exhibition piece’. Now I wish I was all alone! What a pity! I’m going off the boil. Never mind, the ‘the squat of the hare’ would rarely bring me to orgasm. It’s more of a teaser. Proper frigging requires a very tight posture and huge pressure around my clit… So, let’s move quickly on into ‘the trussed frog’. Ooh, in this position auto-eroticism gets very demanding! First I’m kneeling with my knees apart and the soles of my feet tucked snugly under my buttocks. Now - the difficult part - I lean my head and shoulders right back. Yes, as you can see it’s rather a strain at first! Good stretching for the thighs, though! Of course, all the pain turns to pleasure as the excitement builds. I’m pressing the sides of my cunt with both hands, squeezing my clit between my fingers and beginning to jerk off with my whole arms. Can you see how much I’m shaking? Look how my breasts are wobbling! Isn’t that lovely? And look at my arms, just managing to brush against the nipples! Yes, it all counts. Oh boy, it doesn’t take much of this. Pretty good! Luckily I’ve got into just the right position tonight – often as not I have to stop and adjust my feet. But this is perfect. My heart is beating very fast now. I can feel beads of sweat coming out on my brows and running down the back of my neck. Oh God, I’m coming already! Oh wow! That’s lovely! And no problem at all, since it’s only a little first-time come, I won’t need to stop to enjoy it. Gosh, my legs are so tight it feels like they’re melting. My whole body is shaking now! Yes, I’m panting, and quite short of breath. And again, I’m coming again already! This one’s longer, sort of flatter! Phew! My face is tingling, my head spinning with the effort. And on we go! Tra-laaa! I squeeze harder with my fingers. Look, even my legs are shaking. My toes are all sweaty, curling up and digging into my hips. My clit has gone all swollen and rubbery. She’s coming round again, yes coming… And this is the good one! She’s… almost there! Yeeeeeah!

Oh my goodness, what a thrill! The rush of a steadily rising heartbeat, and then the sudden strong thuds, slower but much harder. That’s really sweet, really lovely! I’m panting more slowly now, yet the beats go on and on! My clit is throbbing well, too. Everything’s melted. Oh, I’m hardly moving, only a gentle shaking. Feel a bit leaden. That’s what I call an elephant orgasm. A real, fat, woman’s orgasm. The cum of the elephant woman. Hmmm? Am I ready for another? No, I think will stop there. Ouch, my legs hurt. I slide them out and relax. That’s much better. Are you still looking, dear? Did you see all that? It was so sweet, so gorgeous. It leaves such a feeling of relaxation…

**************

Ungh?

Are you there? I can’t see you properly. I must have been snoozing. Sorry! How thoughtless of me in your predicament! YOU can’t do that – I mean, you can’t drop off, can you my dear? Are you getting very tired and sore standing there on one leg? You know, it gave me such a boost to have your eyes on me, I really thought I would explode when I came that last time. Are you thinking how silly I looked? You look pretty silly yourself on that stool with the noose round your neck. Oh my goodness, just look at your cock! What’s going on there?

Enjoying your punishment?

I draw the skin back and admire the deep purple of its helmet. The end of your foreskin is all red and raw-looking, but the main shaft is pale pink and nicely swollen. I’m so proud of you, give you an encouraging peck. Happy days! Time to undo the scarf and release your foot. There, feel better now? Not too numb, I hope. You’ll need both feet planted firmly on the stool for what comes next,

Ready for the final act?

You nod enthusiastically, no doubt thinking you’re over the worst. Ho-ho-ho! But you must wait while I move this big wooden thing. Remember it? We called it ‘the block’ last time. When you had me on me knees and held my wrists behind my back. That was a good night, wasn’t it? You surprised me then, showed you had secret depths. God, this block’s heavy. My legs are still wobbly from doing the ‘trussed-frog’.

So where are we up to? Ah yes, I was telling you about the Kama Sutra poses. I could show you one or two more… but I think I’ll move on to my Marta Hari phase. This was when I started getting crushes on boys, feeling a bit guilty and ridiculous about my ‘magic animal’ poses, and began taking my self-pleasures in a new way. I was still too nervous and stuck up to think seriously about having sex, so I stayed wanking. One day in the library I found a book about Marta Hari, and reading that I got so turned on by the story of her life. I already understood that danger could be just as sexy as pain, but this woman put flesh on the bone for me, so to speak. I cut the poses and went in for fantasy. Instead of using the floor to have set-piece wank-offs before going to sleep, I’d be propped up in bed, reading and frigging myself off until three or four o’clock in the morning. What did I read? Nothing very dark or off-beat, in fact any old trash with a heroine. One favourite was ‘Barbarella’ – I had a book-of-the-film edition, with colour pictures. God, I must have died in that Orgasmatron about a thousand times! Another good read was ‘The Spy Who Loved Me’ – James Bond at his sexiest. And his brings me up to the time of us. Remember how I used to wear that black lipstick and those long black dresses? You wondered what you were getting into when I showed so much interest in you. Then I turned all Grunge, because you were into that.

Whatever are we going to do next?

I heave the heavy block of wood across the floor until it’s in place, just in front of your stool. The block is pretty thick, and wide enough to balance my stool on. Which means, given the difference in our heights, will bring my cunt hole up to the right position for you to enter me. Hey, this is going to be like a trapeze act. Ever wanted to join the circus?

Bring back the hammock?

You shake your head. Game boy!

I sit on the stool and handle your cock rather roughly, bullying it to erection and then pulling it downward like a lever. I rub it over my neck and breasts. You appreciate this and moan. Now, I’m standing up and your cock is wedged between my legs. I draw back until I feel the head sliding past my lips, then I tilt my hips forward and it slips inside. You let out a gasp, which is muffled by the gag. All wet and slippery, aren’t I? And you’re rock hard. Hey! Careful! Your stool is a shaking! We don’t want you coming off! Not before your time!

Resting my arms on your shoulders, I raise one leg and curl it round your bum. I press very tightly and you take half my weight. As if activated, you start thrusting in and out with a devil-may-care attitude. I bite your neck to pull you up. No use. You’ll end it all now if you can. Suddenly, I let go. I jump off the stool, and land on the rug with a bang. Surprised? You are biting through the gag, breathing through your teeth. You flick your cock from side to side in utter frustration.

I let you cool down somewhat before mounting the stool again. OK, here we go again. It’s so shaky up here, I could easily fall into you. That would carry you off and you’d hang! Hey, I could swing on you and get an orgasm from your death throes! Fancy that?

Take your time!

Carefully, I turn my back to you. Using my hands, I guide your cock inside, then bend over and clasp my knees. No thrusting this time! Remember, this is MY routine! I bend further and touch my toes. Now I’m bobbing up and down, and your cock slides in and out a little each time. It’s a lovely way of exercising, this, two, three, four. Rolling the spine up, two, three, four! And down, two, three, four! How is that for you? Up and down again, two, three, four. Well, I’d better spring off before you come. Ho-ho-ho! How distressed you are! Your red face is a picture of frustration. If only you could get your hands free at least you could wank off. You poor old fool, wrestling with the knot! And you’re in pretty bad shape, I notice the knuckles of your toes are all white from standing on one spot for so long. Never mind, not much more to ‘cum’ !

I mount the stool with my back to you again, grab your cock and slip it deep into me from behind. This time I stay upright,

Take it easy, now!

Crossing my thighs, I grasp your cock like a vice. You’re hard but the pressure will take you off the boil. Either that or you’ll explode in seconds…. No…. Good boy! I reach up and grab your rope. This doubles the pressure on your neck, but I need its support. The fingers of my other hand are free to attend to my clit.

Shag away!

Oh, that’s really sweet! Yes, keep thrusting! One, two or three, yeees! Wonderful! And again, keep it up, two, three, ooooh! Again! Like this, I have a nice little row of mini orgasms, which is just what I need to finish me off.

Completely satisfied, I fling myself to the floor.

Ready?

You are swaying dangerously, your cock elongated but dangling. I remove the stool, and kneel on the block so my face level with your crotch. I take hold of your cock with both hands and put the head between my lips. Oh, that’s me I’m tasting! Hmm, little on the salty side - yummy-yummy all the same! Since you are soft again I work you by hand. That’s better! A few quick strokes and you are back to full size. How desperately you need to end this! It’s been stop-start, stop-start for so long, you’ve lost half your edge. I begin by jerking you quickly, swirling at the head with my tongue and lips. Just like in the movies, eh? You arch your back, a little over-strained. You can’t come like that! I stroke your buttocks, fiddling with your balls. Enjoy it! Your poor, tired legs wobble and your toes curl round the edge of the stool. I beat slower and you relax a little. You’ve got a good serviceable cock, you know. Long enough and quite thick. Not quite the porno stars’ schlong, but no slouch, either. Go on, make the most of it! Here she comes! You get that final swelling again. You go up on your toes, groan and come into my mouth. Simple as that. What a relief, eh? Swallowing your Second Coming, I stand back to admire the job,

Sentence has been carried out in accordance with the law. The prisoner has come to his senses. Cut him down!

**************

It’s grown chilly. We wake from our snooze on the rug, while the wind and rain are still beating heavily on the roof. I picture the cinemagoers, driving back home, wondering if their celluloid dreams were worth all the hassle of going out for. We are in the ‘spoon’ position, you curling up behind me. Time to answer that bloody question,

You know, I think a married man … Your body tenses up … should be well hung.

Your hands move up to cup my breasts. The bristles of your chin scrape the nape of my neck. My fingers probe for my clit.


“Well Hung”
By Clizia Cockspur, copyright 2003