Joan, or the Wages of Greed

Joan's been married to Matthew for several years. He's a good provider, but their lovemaking has gotten into a rut.

One day he mentions that he likes to feel helpless. This adds some zest to their sex, as she ties him up and sometimes spanks him over her lap, explaining to him why she is punishing him. Then she finds out by accident that he likes being strangled. She ties him up on the 4-poster bed and tells him how she's going to punish him for his misdeeds. Then she straddles him and wraps the belt from his terrycloth bathrobe around his neck. She slowly rides up and down his cock, gradually pulling the belt tighter. As she starts to come, she pulls the belt very tight. He thrashes around, giving her even better sensations, then comes violently just before he loses consciousness.

Part of the problem with their relationship is the long hours he works. He's been building up a business and working 10-16 hours a day. He's frequently too tired for sex — or they just manage a quicky and he falls asleep without any pillow talk afterward.

One day he comes home, tells her his partnership may be sold out to a major corporation for big bucks. She realizes that there might be certain advantages to being a rich widow, and starts laying plans.

A couple of months later, the sale is finally completed. Matthew is now a multi-millionaire and could retire, but Joan knows he's a workaholic and will probably start up another business soon. But for a few days he actually has some time and energy. He takes her out to dinner at a very good restaurant, they split a bottle of Taittinger's and get quite giggly.

When they get home, she tells him, "Honey, I've planned something special for you, too. Come down to the rumpus room with me."

When they get there, Matthew finds new boxer shorts and pajamas laid out on the sofa. The shorts are so sheer they are almost transparent; the pjs are made of thin, very soft silk and have a print pattern showing female couples cavorting. He also sees a rope with a noose dangling over a ceiling beam, and a two step library stool(*). He eyes the noose anxiously and gives her a questioning look. (*) it rolls freely with no weight, but locks in place when you stand on it.

"I think you're going to enjoy this," she reassures him.

She tells him to change into the shorts and pjs she bought him for the occasion. She takes off her clothes and changes into a black lace push-up bra that doesn't quite cover her nipples, lacy black panties with a hole in the crotch, and sheer black stockings. She also clasps a black silk collar around her neck.

She poses for him, letting him enjoy the naughtiness of her new undergarments; she also admires his build under the pjs, thinking <>

She kisses him and fondles him, enjoying the feel of his skin under the silk, and encourages him to fondle her breasts and nuzzle her. After awhile he's really horny and she's starting to feel somewhat aroused, too.

Then she fits the noose around his neck and adjusts the knot behind his left ear. She pulls the knot snug around his neck. Then she tells him to climb onto the library stool.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asks nervously.

"You like it when I blow you, right?" she asks.

He nods nervously.

"And you really enjoy being strangled."

He nods again, a little more definitely.

"Well, strangling you with a cord takes both hands, and I use at least one hand blowing you. This way, your weight will provide the pressure and I'll able to concentrate on pleasing you with my mouth and hands."

Joan's voice deepens, and takes on a commanding tone. "Besides, you've been exploiting the workers in your business and taking advantage of the inability of your customers to find a lower price anywhere else! I'm going to punish you for your greed. Now... get up on that stool!"

Matthew climbs up on the stool, his erection sticking out of the pjs and pointing at least 45 degrees upward. Joan hands him two belts and tells him to strap his legs together at ankles and knees. At her command, he takes the free end of the rope and pulls until getting enough breath takes a little effort but can be done with his feet flat, then wraps the end around the nearby cleat.

She pulls the pjs down over the knee strap, leaving him looking like they're pulled down around his knees but even sillier as the pjs are folded over the strap and hang almost to his ankles. She takes his penis in one hand. She looks at it; the base is level with her cheekbones. She bends it down until he starts to wince, then lets it up a little, finding that she can just get the tip into her mouth.

She smiles at him, "You'll have to bend your knees a little, dear."

"But..."

"Do you want a super-quickie, or do you want something to remember? Now stoop!"

Matthew bends his knees and the noose begins to tighten around his neck. His breathing becomes raspy and his neck starts to redden.

Joan mouths his cockhead lightly. Then she cradles his balls with her other hand and slowly licks the bottom of his cock from the base to the tip. His breathing becomes even more irregular, and his cock strains upward even harder, but his crotch is now low enough she can reach all of it without straining. He moans, thinking, <> She kisses the side of his cock, pressing her lips against it and applying a slight suction, then lightly runs her lips up and down the side a few times, then does the same to the other side. <> Encouraged by his moans, she does this a few more times. He moans more, tries to stand up so get more breath as he pants harder.

She grabs his hips and pulls downward. "Down," she reminds him. He crouches down again, gasping and rasping. She takes his balls into her mouth and gently washes them with her lips and tongue, wrapping her right hand around his erect cock. He gets more excited, pants harder, tries to stand up straight for more breath. She sucks harder on the sack as a reminder; he gives a muffled yelp and crouches again.

She moves back to his cock, holding his balls in her left hand as a reminder to keep his knees bent. She envelopes the head with her lips, then slowly slides all the way to the base, working her tongue against the underside, then back up to the head. She repeats this about 10 times, then stops.

"Why'd you stop?" he wheezes.

"Do you want to come?"

"Oh...yes," he gasps out.

"Then you have to do just what I say. But first,..."

She grabs another belt and straps his hands to his sides, then ties the belt to his scrotum with another cord to discourage pulling at it.

"Now, Step off the stool and kick it away..." (he hesitates) She deepens her voice: "Remember you're being punished for your greed. Step off now!"

He steps off, and the noose tightens around his neck, pulling his head to one side. His breath now comes in irregular, rattling rasps, and his face starts to redden. He tries to find some place to stand, but there isn't any. He forgot to kick the stool away, but his kicking knocks it out of reach. <scary>> Each jerk of his legs causes the knot to slip a little farther toward the back of his neck and makes it harder to breathe, <> but he finds he can't stop trying for nonexistent footing.

He's now completely at Joan's mercy, which makes him more excited. But the noose is very tight; he's not 100% sure he likes this. His legs continue to jerk, searching for any support at all.

Hanging from the noose like that, Matthew is now low enough that Joan can easily get her mouth around cock. She uses her left arm to keep his knees out of the way as she continues sucking on him, her right hand holding the base of his penis while her mouth slides slowly up and down the shaft. The combination of sensations and fear make him even more excited; he's now sure he'll come in time.

His kicking has tightened the noose so that his breathing comes in snores and gasps. His chest muscles and diaphragm heave, but he can't get enough air, especially with his heart working overtime on his sexual excitement.

His kicks become more frantic and the knot slides further toward the back of his neck. Snore, wheeze, gurgle, gurgle. "Nnnng! Nnnnt mmmm dnnng!" <>

She continues working on his cock, sliding her mouth rapidly back and forth over the area where the head and shaft meet while her tongue flutters rapidly along the underside. Her right hand moves up and down the shaft, adding to his sensations.

Suddenly, she stops. He tries to ask why, but nothing comes out.

She tells him, "The real reason for this is I've decided to be a rich widow. You're never home, and you never talk about anything but your stupid business. But I'm going to entertain you while you die!"

He struggles harder. <really hang me! Noose too tight! Hard to breathe. Reach up and grab the rope. Oh, no! My hands are strapped!>>

Joan slides her mouth rapidly up and down Matthew's shaft, pressing her tongue against the underside of the head as she moves over it. As her mouth moves up and down, her hand twists his cock, producing a spiral motion of her lips on his penis.

In less than a minute the knot is all the way to the back of his neck; the gurgles stop and his struggles become weaker. His cock swells and he comes explosively in Joan's mouth, spurt after spurt filling her mouth with his semen. He's now so absorbed by the sensations in his lower body that he barely notices the ache in his chest and the terrible pressure on his neck. Before he finishes coming, his vision narrows until all he can see is Joan's head bobbing up and down on his penis. <>

He goes limp. His penis rises again in a final erection even harder than ever before. His mouth is wide with his final efforts to gasp for air, his tongue is stuck way out, and his eyes bulge. Joan savors his cum for a moment, then swallows it; Matthew had never eaten spicy foods, and he always tasted good in her mouth. She backs off and watches as his final convulsions shake his body, his arms pulling hard at the strap around his balls and his legs moving spasmodically up and down. She takes a moment to look up at the body swinging sightless with the noose around its neck, then she removes the strap from his arms to make it look like he hanged himself. She remembers how strongly he came at the end, and wonders what it felt like.

Suddenly her own breath is choked off — someone is twisting her collar. "I heard what you told Matthew. That's murder for profit, and they fry you for it in this state. How would you like to vibrate and buzz with a few thousand volts of juice?" (She tries to shake her head.) "Well, I'll give you an alternative. You can die tonight the same way Matthew did."

Joan recognizes that deep, melodious voice. It's Matthew's partner, Damien. He's 8" taller than Matthew, over a foot taller than Joan. He also works out at the local gym and plays racquetball three days a week. She's seen him on a few joint trips to the beach: a real hunk, even better looking than Matthew.

Joan realizes she's in bad trouble. Damien is big, strong, in great condition, and well coordinated. She'd have trouble fighting him off under the best conditions. And with him behind her, twisting her collar, it's hopeless. She thinks about it. Matthew looked like he'd gotten more pleasure than pain out of it; on the other hand, she'd been helping with the pleasure part.

He continues, "One more condition: I get to enjoy you while you die. With Matthew dead, you're no longer his wife, so I won't be infringing on him in any way." He loosens his grip on her collar a little so that she can breathe a little, rasping as she forces the air in and out of her lungs.

She manages to turn her head enough to see him. Damien must have come straight from his post-workout shower and stretches; he's dressed in shorts and a leotard, his trim musculature outlined by the tight-fitting clothes. He's very attractive, and she's very aware of his fresh but still male smell, especially as she's still turned on from working on Matthew.

She manages to nod her head and wheeze out, "Yes, go ahead. Take me."

He reaches through the hole in her lacy panties with his free hand and rubs her clit. Already aroused from playing with Matthew, she gasps in pleasure, then quickly tries to catch up on her breathing. Damien pushes a finger into her cunt, and she struggles as her pleasure reactions compete with her need for air. Then he grasps her panties by the hole, twists and pulls, ripping the hole open enough to expose the bottom part of her ass.

Shocked, she gasps, "What the..."?

"Don't worry, you won't be wearing them again anyway."

He frog-marches her, coughing and rasping, over to the open closet where he grabs a tube of KY with his other hand.

"Matthew told me once how much you like this. Bend over; you can use a shelf for support."

Joan's heart starts racing even faster as she realizes what he intends. She enjoyed doing this with Matthew, but is out of practice — they never found a position that would let her strangle him with him in her ass. She shivers again, not sure whether it's anticipation or fear. She feels the cool jelly being spread between her ass cheeks, then a finger slowly presses into her asshole. A few seconds later, a second finger joins it, spreading the jelly around inside her sphincter. She bends over and grabs a shelf, bracing her arms against it and planting her feet solidly on the floor.

She feels his cock press against her tight little hole and presses back against him. As she expected, she has some trouble taking him in, but he pauses and reaches around with one hand to feel her clit again. Her heart speeds up and she tries to breathe harder, but the collar is still tight around her neck. She feels a thrill of fear and gets even more excited.

After a little while of this, she becomes rather light-headed and relaxed. Damien is able to slowly push his way into her asshole. He seems to notice that her legs are growing weak, because he eases up slightly on her collar before starting to move in and out of her ass. Now that she's managed to open to him, she's enjoying the feeling of being filled up by Damien's cock, and the sliding motion in and out of her hole feels just as good as she remembers it being with Matthew. Her excitement mounts; this is going to be her last and best fuck and she's going to find out what made Matthew come when he died.

Damien's pleasure starts to build. As he feels the tension build in his groin, he starts to slowly tighten Joan's collar again. Before her breath is completely cut off, she manages to wheeze out "You promised!"

"Promised what?" (He loosens her collar slightly)

"I'd get to die the same way." (It comes out as a whisper)

"So?"

"Hang me!"

"You sure? The way you feel, I'd guess you're about a minute from coming and losing consciousness at about the same time. Switching over will probably cost you another couple of minutes of being choked. You'll also find the noose rather less comfortable than this collar."

"I'm sure. Hang me!"

"Well... All right." His voice changes to a growl quite unlike his previous melodious bass. "But make sure you follow my instructions exactly; you'll be sorry if you don't."

Damien withdraws from her ass and loosens her collar a little to give her breath for working, letting her gurgling snores change back to rasps and wheezes. At his command, Joan unties the rope from the cleat, letting the body drop to the floor. She takes the noose from the body's neck and puts it around her own.

They climb the library stool together. As she reaches the top, Damien has her turn around to face him while he keeps his grip on her collar. Following his instructions, she stands on the top with her feet as far apart as possible on the stool, adjusts the rope so the noose just starts biting into her neck, and ties it back to the cleat.

"Now," he growls, "I'm going to need both hands for a moment. When I let go, you may have two free breaths, no more. Make the most of them, and remember what I told you!"

He lets go of the collar, and she draws a fast, gasping breath then blows it out slowly while he straps her wrists behind her back, so tightly that she starts to gasp from the pain, but remembers what he said and manages to hide it in the long inhalation that follows.

While she savors that one long breath, he puts his hands under her ass and boosts her up until her crotch is even with his waist. "Hold on with your legs," he tells her. She grabs on, holding her breath, but the demand from her lungs forces her to start letting it go; she starts to panic, afraid of what he'll do if she takes a third breath. Partway through, he shifts one hand to her collar and twists it, reducing her back to rasps and wheezes.

"Gotcha," Damien snarls, "and you should be glad you're not going to find out the alternative." His voice returns to it's normal melodious tone, "Now start sliding down, slowly" He guides her with one hand on her collar and the other under her ass until his cockhead slides into her cunt, then tells her to keep sliding down.

She gasps in pleasure as his cock fills her cunt, then resumes breathing as best she can. He tells her to lock her legs tightly around his hips, removes his hand under her ass, and uses it to make sure the knot is directly behind her head and no hair is inside.

"Well, Joan, ready or not..." He steps down one step and the noose tightens around her neck. He lets go of her collar, but there's no improvement — it's even worse than before. She acquires a new fear to add to the knowledge of her coming death: that the pain in her neck and chest will get worse. But there's a tingling between her legs that competes with the fear.

She pushes herself up desperately with her thigh muscles and manages to rise until only his cockhead is in her; the noose loosens slightly, but not much: rasp, snore, rasp, snore; it doesn't slide easily in that direction. She opens her mouth wide and stretches for air, but that's no improvement either. Then he grabs her shoulders with both hands and pushes her back down on his cock; she feels about half of it slide into her, and the noose tightens again. The rope is also pulling her body against him and she feels her erect nipples rub against his chest as she slides up and down.

He allows this to continue for a minute or so: she rises as far as she can and gets a little air, then he pushes her back down. Then she notices that each cycle ends with the noose a little tighter. She realizes that he'd been standing on the balls of his feet and is slowly settling back onto his heels — also that at this pressure she can't keep up with her body's demand for air,. She manages to gasp out, "chest hurts... scared... noose...tight...can't...breathe."

He smiles, "Good. It gets worse from here."

"Please...one more...deep breath..."

"No joy, Joanie." He pauses, then chuckles, "You asked to be hanged, and that means no support at all. Let go with your legs."

"No...Please..." "I can make you let go, but you won't like it!"

She lets go and the noose jerks even tighter around her neck. Her breath now comes in desperate gurgles, when she can force any air at all, and her fear turns to terror as she realizes that her neck muscles are rapidly getting tired keeping even that tiny airway open.

She keeps trying to find some support, reaching with one foot, then the other, even though she knows there's nothing within reach. But each try just pulls the noose tighter. She's dancing on nothing as she hangs.

Damien feels her motions rubbing her cunt up and down his cock and twisting from side to side as her legs kick. The motion also presses her nipples alternately into his chest. He struggles to hold back, waiting for the end.

Joan's neck muscles soon give out and she quickly discovers that there's a big difference between not getting enough air and not getting any air. She panics and loses control, kicking frantically for a foothold and trying to wrap her legs around Damien's body — anything to ease the pressure that's building up in her chest and head. But every time she starts to get her legs around him, he just bats them away. As she struggles, she feels herself moving a fraction of an inch up and down his cock and her very erect nipples rubbing against him.

The tingling in her groin is growing uncontrollably, her ears are ringing, and her head feels like it a balloon being blown up to the bursting point. Her heart pounds and her chest feels like it's about to burst. She feels wonderful and terrified at the same time — worse than the scariest roller coaster she's ever ridden, and she knows that this is her last ride.

Her struggles grow weaker, and she can't think coherently any more. She kicks feebly at the air. The she feels his hand on her sex and his finger tickles her clitoris. She comes, an enormous, shaking orgasm that forces her head back and clamps her cunt tightly around Damien's cock. Her vision starts to get red, then black around the edges.

She hears Damien murmur "Bye, bye, Joanie" in her ear, then everything fades away.

Damien feels Joan's cunt contract on his cock as she comes. As her struggles grow weak, he resumes thrusting in her. Then her body convulses in death, her cunt growing even tighter and her back arching and legs straightening and waving around, sending him over the edge; he comes into her cunt as she dies, filling it with the best come he's ever felt.

After a few seconds, he withdraws from her body, steps back and looks at it twisting slowly from side to side. He can't resist adding, "I hope it was good for you, too. By the way, I've seen Matthew's will. If you die within 30 days of him, it's as if you died first and his money goes to me. But that doesn't matter to you anymore!"

He looks around the room, at Matthew lying there crumpled on the floor, with his dead cock sticking out of those sheer boxers, and his silly pjs tangled around his legs. He also admires Joan's body in its sheer stockings, lacy bra, and torn lacy panties as it sways to and fro next to the stool, its mouth wide open and eyes staring.

A lovely scene.

Damien goes into the bathroom and showers to clean himself off. He comes out, dresses, gathers up his things, leaves, and drives home, humming to himself and thinking of the great time he had and the money he'll get to enjoy.

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