Hanged
Posted: Thu Apr 23, 2026 11:27 pm
She shouldn't have asked. When she got the answer, she shouldn't have come back.
Once again, curiosity killed the cat.
Hanged
I’d seen your pets or your toys—I never quite knew what to call them—hanging from the ceiling on those nights we ended up fucking at your place. I never paid them much mind, assuming they were just slave girls you liked to display as trophies in that strange, clinical way.
However, with every visit, the sight of those suspended bodies became more magnetic, more arousing. Curiosity eventually got the better of me; one night, finally, I asked you to use one of them in front of me.
It was incredible to watch as you engaged the pulley and the slave girl began to shift from her resting position, maintaining her statue-like rigidity. Only the sound of my ragged breathing filled the room, over the metallic hum of the motor. With a sharp click, the mechanism stopped and the slave’s body swayed slightly. Immediately, after another mechanical snap, she began to descend slowly and heavily, until her mouth was perfectly level with your cock.
Holding her head firmly, you slid just a few centimeters into her mouth. Without loosening your grip, you activated the pulleys again; the descent continued, relentless, forcing her to take every inch until you had completely invaded her mouth.
My arousal skyrocketed at the sight of your full length buried inside her. During our dates, I had barely been able to take two-thirds of you; but of course, unlike the slave, I had the option to stop you. You had always respected my limits—you never wanted to push me too far.
I watched, mesmerized, as you moved your hips, fucking the slave’s mouth for nearly ten minutes. I knew you’d come when I saw strands of thick, white semen dripping from the corners of her lips; in that position, she was unable to swallow your load. The sex we had after witnessing that spectacle was wild, primal—undoubtedly the best of my life up to that point.
From that night on, every time I visited your house, it became our ritual: first, you would take me urgently, dragging us both to a quick, voracious orgasm. Then, you would use the mouth of one of your ornaments—I wasn’t even capable of seeing them as slaves anymore, just another piece of furniture. When you put her back in her place, we gave ourselves over to passion; you didn’t stop fucking me until, exhausted and clinging to you, I drifted off to sleep.
Everything changed this morning. When I woke up and tried to move, I realized I was paralyzed. A hood plunged me into darkness, and a latex-lined ring gag forced my mouth into a painfully wide, permanent stretch. It took only a few seconds to feel the blood rushing to my head and realize I was hanging upside down. Reality hit me with a cruel sting: you had turned me into one of the toys that had so captured my imagination.
I couldn’t see or hear a thing, but despite what I’d thought when I saw them hanging like that, I felt no discomfort. I could only feel the metallic intruder lodged deep inside me, vibrating without respite. Its intensity would spike every few minutes, keeping me on the agonizing brink of an orgasm. That rhythmic variation was my only way to sense the passage of time.
A shiver of terror ran through me when the world suddenly returned to my ears. I heard your voice, soft and commanding, and then, a woman’s voice. For the next few minutes, I wished for the silence again, forced to listen to her moans as you possessed her and her intense scream of pleasure as you brought her to climax.
“Can you show me how you use those toys?” she asked you. The words, the tone she used... they were so similar to my own from months ago that my blood ran cold.
“I’ll show you right now,” you replied.
Instantly, the click of the switch gave way to the hum of the motor. I felt my body shift and sway in the air until, with a second click, it came to a dead stop. After a few endless seconds, I began to descend.
It didn't take long before I felt your hands gripping my head and your thick cock pressing against my lips. It slid into my mouth through the ring of the gag. You moved slower than when you showed me how it worked months ago; it felt as if you were letting me stay in control. But this time, when I reached the limit where you always used to stop, you didn't. You thrust your hips forward, ignoring my gagging, until your entire cock sank deep into my throat.
I could barely breathe. For a moment I thought I would choke, but then I realized you knew exactly what you were doing—I was in no danger. I felt your cock swell, filling me completely, before you unloaded your hot semen directly into my esophagus. When you pulled out, I felt the overflow running down my lips, but the rest, in that inverted position, remained trapped in my mouth. I couldn't swallow it, and I couldn't spit it out. Not until you decided to move me.
As you started the motor again to return me to my resting position, I couldn't help but wonder who was keeping you company, and if I would ever meet her. But mostly, I wondered how long it would take for her to join me... just another new toy in your collection.
THE END
Once again, curiosity killed the cat.
Hanged
I’d seen your pets or your toys—I never quite knew what to call them—hanging from the ceiling on those nights we ended up fucking at your place. I never paid them much mind, assuming they were just slave girls you liked to display as trophies in that strange, clinical way.
However, with every visit, the sight of those suspended bodies became more magnetic, more arousing. Curiosity eventually got the better of me; one night, finally, I asked you to use one of them in front of me.
It was incredible to watch as you engaged the pulley and the slave girl began to shift from her resting position, maintaining her statue-like rigidity. Only the sound of my ragged breathing filled the room, over the metallic hum of the motor. With a sharp click, the mechanism stopped and the slave’s body swayed slightly. Immediately, after another mechanical snap, she began to descend slowly and heavily, until her mouth was perfectly level with your cock.
Holding her head firmly, you slid just a few centimeters into her mouth. Without loosening your grip, you activated the pulleys again; the descent continued, relentless, forcing her to take every inch until you had completely invaded her mouth.
My arousal skyrocketed at the sight of your full length buried inside her. During our dates, I had barely been able to take two-thirds of you; but of course, unlike the slave, I had the option to stop you. You had always respected my limits—you never wanted to push me too far.
I watched, mesmerized, as you moved your hips, fucking the slave’s mouth for nearly ten minutes. I knew you’d come when I saw strands of thick, white semen dripping from the corners of her lips; in that position, she was unable to swallow your load. The sex we had after witnessing that spectacle was wild, primal—undoubtedly the best of my life up to that point.
From that night on, every time I visited your house, it became our ritual: first, you would take me urgently, dragging us both to a quick, voracious orgasm. Then, you would use the mouth of one of your ornaments—I wasn’t even capable of seeing them as slaves anymore, just another piece of furniture. When you put her back in her place, we gave ourselves over to passion; you didn’t stop fucking me until, exhausted and clinging to you, I drifted off to sleep.
Everything changed this morning. When I woke up and tried to move, I realized I was paralyzed. A hood plunged me into darkness, and a latex-lined ring gag forced my mouth into a painfully wide, permanent stretch. It took only a few seconds to feel the blood rushing to my head and realize I was hanging upside down. Reality hit me with a cruel sting: you had turned me into one of the toys that had so captured my imagination.
I couldn’t see or hear a thing, but despite what I’d thought when I saw them hanging like that, I felt no discomfort. I could only feel the metallic intruder lodged deep inside me, vibrating without respite. Its intensity would spike every few minutes, keeping me on the agonizing brink of an orgasm. That rhythmic variation was my only way to sense the passage of time.
A shiver of terror ran through me when the world suddenly returned to my ears. I heard your voice, soft and commanding, and then, a woman’s voice. For the next few minutes, I wished for the silence again, forced to listen to her moans as you possessed her and her intense scream of pleasure as you brought her to climax.
“Can you show me how you use those toys?” she asked you. The words, the tone she used... they were so similar to my own from months ago that my blood ran cold.
“I’ll show you right now,” you replied.
Instantly, the click of the switch gave way to the hum of the motor. I felt my body shift and sway in the air until, with a second click, it came to a dead stop. After a few endless seconds, I began to descend.
It didn't take long before I felt your hands gripping my head and your thick cock pressing against my lips. It slid into my mouth through the ring of the gag. You moved slower than when you showed me how it worked months ago; it felt as if you were letting me stay in control. But this time, when I reached the limit where you always used to stop, you didn't. You thrust your hips forward, ignoring my gagging, until your entire cock sank deep into my throat.
I could barely breathe. For a moment I thought I would choke, but then I realized you knew exactly what you were doing—I was in no danger. I felt your cock swell, filling me completely, before you unloaded your hot semen directly into my esophagus. When you pulled out, I felt the overflow running down my lips, but the rest, in that inverted position, remained trapped in my mouth. I couldn't swallow it, and I couldn't spit it out. Not until you decided to move me.
As you started the motor again to return me to my resting position, I couldn't help but wonder who was keeping you company, and if I would ever meet her. But mostly, I wondered how long it would take for her to join me... just another new toy in your collection.
THE END