Play The Game:

Part Two – The Hanging Game

Disclaimer: This story contains adult themes including sex, fantasy violence and hanging.  It is not suitable for the faint of heart, easily offended or those who cannot differentiate between fantasy and reality.  Fair Warning has been given, so to the undaunted I say, “Welcome to the dark side.”


“Well, ladies and gentlemen, we have our first elimination.  A big farewell to the lovely Louise and congratulations to Lucille who has earned herself a full minute's grace in round two.”  Mundy has his arm around the pretty blonde woman, resplendent in pink lingerie and diamanté jewellery.  Her make-up is still flawless despite the tense drama of playing Russian Roulette in front of the baying audience, “As you fired the shot which took poor Louise out of the running,” the host smiles cruelly, “You will get to kick off sixty seconds after your fellow contestants, a significant advantage in the endurance trial.”

Mumbling her thanks, she stares blankly ahead, desperately trying to process the fact that she has taken a human life.  She tries, unsuccessfully, not to notice two burly stage-hands approach the dead lesbian's body.  Each takes hold of an ankle an drags the body towards the wings.  There is a sickening crack as the latino's lifeless head hits the floor.  A broad trail of blood is smeared across the stage as the corpse is removed.

The other surviving contestants look on anxiously, mindful that they may be looking at their own future.  Mandy, the over-enthusiastic fan of the show, runs her hair through her tousled chestnut hair, her body beaded with sweat, her eyes blazing with an intoxicating blend of excitement and terror.  She was the only one of the contestants to know what the game entailed.   Whilst she dearly wanted to win, unlike the other girls, she was thrilled by the idea that she might die tonight.  Part of her was looking forward to dying spectacularly in front of so many people, everyone of whom would be aroused by her death.  She smiled at her husband Mike, who was looking on from the sponsor's seats, clearly relishing the experience as much as she.

The other survivor had not fared quite so well in the previous round.  Heather had been a feisty teenager and had been sponsored by her long-suffering mother.  The reality of the game had taken all the fight out of her.  Sadie, Mundy's Gothic assistant, gives her a paper cup of water and a tissue to clean herself up.  Her heavy eye-liner is streaked from tears and her tights soaked through following her total loss of control under the gun.  Worse yet when the fatal round tore into Louise she had been violently sick and was still shaking uncontrollably.  As if all this were not bad enough, her mother had been too busy getting off with Louise's girlfriend Liza to pay attention to her daughter's distress.  When she had finally noticed her, it was contempt not sympathy that showed on her face.

Mundy walked over to the panel of sponsors, who are discussing the finer points of Louise's demise.  

“Well, this is the round when you guys get to play a part in the proceedings,” grins Mundy, “so if you'd like to join us at the gallows? Liza, as you have lost your, erm, deposit, you get to take it easy.”

“Some you lose,” the tall red-head quips, “some you win, I've got a feeling I just traded up,” she smiles fondly at Heather's mother Jeannie and runs her hand up her leg.  The audience reaction is mixed. Some boo at the woman's lack of loyalty to her dead lover but most are laughing.

Perhaps surprisingly Mundy appears less than impressed, but covers quickly, “At this point, we always ask the bereaved sponsor if they would like to join in the endurance round for a chance at a special consolation prize?”

“Nu-uh, sorry Gerry, I've definitely got something to live for right here.”
“What a shame, well I hope you'll join us for a really close view of our three lovely hangers.”  With that the four sponsors follow Gerry to the large gallows in the centre of the stage.

Liza, a tall statuesque woman, with long curly red hair follows the host, hand in hand with Jeannie an attractive mature woman with a sharp blonde bob.  As they pass her daughter, Heather, she shakes her head, disappointment etched on her face.  

Next comes Paul, corpulent and balding.  Despite his previous, ill-concealed irritation with her, he takes his wife, Lucille's hand as they pass and kisses her briefly and pats her pink-clad arse fondly.  “I'm sorry I got you into this honey, I really hope you win.”  She is visibly shocked at the inference that he previously hadn't.

Finally, comes Mandy's husband Mike, who gives each of the girls cheery encouragement.  When he gets to his wife, cups his hand between her legs, noticing the small yellow stain on her ivory satin knickers and a fine yellow line down one of her white stockings.  He pulls her to him and whispers in her ear, “I really thought you were going to die, I damn near came in my pants.”

Blushing, she responds, “God, I love you!  I want to fuck you right now.”

“That'll have to wait, I can't wait to watch you hang, baby.  I am so gonna fuck you later.”

“But what if I'm dead?” she asks in hushed tones.

“I'm still gonna fuck you.” he says emphatically.

Mandy is shocked to find her self becoming wet at the thought.

The gallows are built on to a raised platform some six feet up from the stage.  Beneath each of the nooses is a short stool.  Each has a length of cord attached to one of the legs.  A large sand-timer on a swivel mount is attached to one of the uprights.  The tails of the nooses are looped around the crossbeam and anchored to large steel rings in front of the platform.

“Okay, Ladies if you'll take your positions,” Mundy gestures for Sadie to lead the contestants up onto the scaffold.  Lucille goes first and stands behind nervously the stool next to the timer.  Heather takes the middle stool, her face pale her eyes staring straight ahead.  Finally comes Mandy, who blows kisses to the audience and shoots a lust-filled look at Mike, who is visible aroused.  Lucille smiles encouragingly at the other two and with a hint of a tear, mouths “good luck” to Heather.

“Should have worn baggier pants, Mike!” quips Mundy, “Okay lets run through the rules for the benefit of any new viewers,” he pauses, “and of course Lucille and little Heather.  The rules are very simple.  In a moment, Sadie will take you up to the gallows.” he hands each of the remaining sponsors a pair of handcuffs, “You will put these on your contestant and Sadie will help you fasten the noose.  Finally you will help them onto the stools and come down to take position at the anchor points.”

“When I give the signal, Mandy and Heather will kick off.  After a minute,“ Mundy looks at Paul, “Lucille will join them.  The girls will then hang until one of them is dead.  I will then signal for you to cut the survivors down.  You will cut when I give the signal and not before.  As with the other rounds, anybody who flouts the rules will end up in the chair.” Mundy gestures towards the garotting chair at the side of the stage.

Paul frowns, “What if more than one dies?” the fat man asks nervously.

“Well, Paul we've never lost all three yet, but if there's only one survivor, she goes to the guillotine and the money rolls over to next month's episode.  But don't worry that's only happened twice.”

Mike interjects, “What are Mandy and Heather's chances against Lucille if she has a minute's grace?”

“Well, I'm glad you asked me that, Mike.  Death by 'short drop' hanging typically takes between ten and twenty minutes for the victim to expire, so there's a pretty big margin of error.”  

The other man nodded thoughtfully, “Fair enough,”

Now each of the girls is being fitted with a heart monitor.  We don't want to start again if they've just passed out do we?”  They look up and say that Sadie is fitting a wristband to each girl.  “These will be monitored in the control booth, but we'll also rely on the obvious, erm, symptoms to provide ongoing feedback,” he smiled sadistically.

Without further ado the group climb the steps to the gallows.  Mundy ushers Paul to Lucille, where Sadie is waiting.  The pretty Goth waits while the couple embrace and Paul nervously pulls the blonde's arms behind her body.  Having secured her with the cuffs, he reaches up to pull the noose down.  “You okay, Baby?” he asks, inwardly cursing the stupid question.

“I-I'll live,” she jokes nervously, she smiles with a determination she has never felt before, “I hope you realise that one way or the other, you'll never see me again after tonight.”

“I'm sorry,” he says simply.  A thought crosses his mind, but he keeps it to himself as he drapes the rope over her shoulder.  Sadie shows him how to drawn the noose tight under his wife's chin and directs him to place the knot behind her right ear.  The Goth takes up the slack as Paul helps his trembling wife up on to the small stool.  It rocks slightly as she steps up.  “Steady, Baby, don't lose your balance.”  Below them a stage-hand draws in the slack and secures the tail of the noose.

Next Jeannie is led to her daughter.  Liza makes to join her but Mundy firmly blocks her.  As her mother approaches, the distraught teen shakes her head in fear, “No, no, please don't do this, p-please you don't have to...” she pleads, her eyes wet with tears.

He mother takes her by the shoulders and leans in as if to comfort her, “Stop embarrassing me, you pathetic little bitch!” she hisses softly, “You're such a disappointment, I must have nodding when I gave birth to you.”  She clicks the handcuffs into place as tightly at they will go.  Heather flinches at the cold steel cutting into her wrist.

She is shaking with fear as her mother places the rope around her neck. “You ask me, Darling, you'd be better off dead.  Isn't that what you always wanted?”

Heather begins to struggle wildly, as she sobs, “Don't do this, I don't wanna die, let me go!”

Between them Jeannie and Sadie lift the crying girl up and lower her onto the stool.  Holding the struggling girl in position, Sadie strokes the girl face consolingly and whispers softly, “Shush, you will hurt yourself, Sweetie.  Shush, I've got you.”  Taking up the slack she gestures Jeannie away from the girl, steel in her eyes.  As the rope is fastened below, the Goth holds Heather's cuffed hands in one of hers and with the other makes young girl look at her, “If you make it, Sweetie, and I really hope you do, nobody's gonna hurt you again.” she whispers.

“Thank you,” Heather mouths, regaining some small composure, “Will this hurt? I m-mean really bad”

“I'm afraid so, but you can handle it.  You want to live, so hold onto that thought and make sure you do.”

“In your own time, Sadie,” Mundy was clearly impatient to proceed.

Moving with cat-like grace the Goth moved to the final couple, she leans over to Mundy and quietly says, “Not gonna be much of a show, if the little girl freaks out and hangs herself before we start is it?” she hisses.  She hopes he will not see through her excuse.

She glances at Mike and Mandy and realises that the fan-girl has already grabbed the noose and his fastening it around her own neck.  “That's my girl,” grins Mike, with evident pride.

“Hey, Sadie,” his wife says brightly, “do it really have to be cuffed?  I've been looking forward to this, I'm not gonna run away.”

“Up to you, Hon. but you'll likely thrash about a bit more with your arms free, that could make the difference between winnin' and losin'” Sadie warns.

Mandy looked at Mike who shrugs, Mandy in turn shrugs at Sadie, “I'll risk it,” she announces cheerfully.  The Goth takes up the slack in the last rope and it is fixed in place.

“What a sport, Ladies and Gents?” guffaws Mundy, “Our lovely devotee will be dancing freestyle tonight” to rapturous applause and whistles from the audience.  Mundy hand each of the sponsors a large hunting knife, “Now you'll need this to cut the cords at the end of the round.  Well, two of you will,” he chuckles, “and after that they're yours to keep, souvenirs of the show.”  he pulls one free of the leather sheath and shows them that the blade is etched with the legend: “The Elimination Game” and the date of the show.  Each of the sponsors takes up position at the ring to which their contestant's rope is tied.

Mundy bounds back up the stairs as the audience grow quiet with anticipation.  He walks in front of the bound women, admiring the theatricality of the scene.  He moves to the sand-timer and rests his hand atop it.  “Good luck, Ladies, it's time to go,”

Sadie takes up position behind the line of girls between Mandy and Heather.  She simultaneously takes up the loose end of the chords tied to the legs of the girls' stools.  She wraps each tail deftly around for the hand with a practised flick of the wrist.  She braces herself and flashes the audience a wicked smile.

Heather swallows, fighting the rising bile in her throat.   Her knees feel weak and she is fighting to remain upright.  She keeps telling herself this is just a a sick joke.  No, a nightmare, just a dream, any minute now she will wake up in in her poster festooned bedroom wrapped in a warm duvet.  But she closes her eyes and sees Louise's sightless eyes staring up at her, blood flowing from the ragged hole in her belly.  This is no dream, this is hell.

In the seconds before the drop Mandy feels butterflies in her stomach and a warm moist sensation between her legs.  This is it, she thinks, I can't believe I'm actually going to hang.  She is aroused by the freedom of surrendering control over her destiny.  Anticipating the familiar sensation of asphyxia, she recalls long nights of breath-play with Mike.  None of that could ever compare to...

Seeing that all is ready, Mundy raises his free hand, “Three, two, one, GO!”  He flicks the sand-timer over.  Sadie yanks on the chords simultaneously sending the stools clattering out from under the luckless girls.  There is a creaking of rope followed by a sharp crack as the weight of the girls bodies pulls the rope taut.  The crowd roars its approval.

Heather gives a brief piercing scream which is cut off as the rope contracts around her young neck.  The hempen loop cuts into her neck like a knife and bright spots flash before her eyes.  Her legs flail ineffectually, seeking the ground in vain.  Her feet are mere inches from the platform, tantalizingly close, but it might as well be yards or even miles away.

Mandy feels the stool ripped from under her feet and her body drops like a stone.  Her hands instinctively claw at the rope as it arrests her fall, sending a shock through her whole body.  She can taste blood in her mouth, flooding down her chin and flowing into her constricted throat.  She realised she must have bitten her tongue as she dropped, Oh God, she hopes she hadn't bitten through it.  The pain in her mouth fuses with the intense pain of the rope biting into her neck and the burning in her lungs.


Sadie unwinds the chords from her hands and straightens up.  She winks at the crown and gives Mandy's body a playful shove as the stricken woman flails helplessly.  She then stalks sexily up stage to stand behind Lucille.  Keeping an eye on the falling sand, she positions herself to one side so the audience can see her.  She slowly raises a leg suggestively before resting it on the stool beneath the blonde's feet.

Meanwhile Heather continues to struggle for breath at the end of the rope.  She is dancing in wild circles and writhing desperately as she vainly tries to bring her cuffed hands up to her neck.  With every muscle straining, she manages to twist them enough to brush against one of her breasts as is bounces with her frantic struggles.  But she cannot raise them high enough to reach the throttling noose.  She opens her mouth to beg for mercy, but can only produce  rattling gasps.

Mandy's hands continue to claw ineffectually at the rope around her throat.  It is so tight that she cannot get her fingers between it and the flesh of her soft neck.  She finds herself torn between emotions.  The human side of her relishes the struggle between life and death and the pleasure of endorphins flooding her brain.  She is unbelievably turned on.  The animal instinct, which lives in all of us, however, is in full panic.  Terrified and desperate to survive, it overrides her conscious mind.  She jerks and flails wildly for relief from her impending doom.  As her left leg jerks forward her black stiletto flies off and lands on the stage below.  The crowd applaud.

Lucille, tries in vain to shut out the suffering of her fellow contestants.  She stands trembling all over as the realisation dawns that her period of so-called grace was not a blessing but a curse.  As she stands waiting to hang, the sound of Mandy and Heather choking for breath heightens her fear.  As she endures the longest minute of her life, she cannot decide which is worse.  Watching the suffering of her friends.  Yes, she thinks, they are my friends. Or watching the sands slowly flowing through the glass.  Tears begin to run down her cheeks leaving a trail of mascara as she cries softly.  She wants to brush them away but her hands are bound behind her back.  She feels a soft hand touch her arm.  She exchanges glances with Sadie and steels herself, nodding to indicate her readiness.

As the final grain lands, Sadie grins at her unfortunate victim and kicks the stool away.  Once again the snapping sound as the rope arrests the woman's fall.  Lucille feels a strange calm settle over her as the rope tightens.  She cannot help but struggle, kicking involuntarily and moving her head in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure on her neck.  But it is as if she is watching from a distance, strangely detached from the moment.  She hears a strange wet crackling noise, which she is shocked to realise is coming from her throat as she fights for breath.

The three sponsors are stood on the stage in front of the scaffold.  The anchor-points have been positioned in such away as to afford them an excellent view up at the struggling women.  Liza has been kept away from the rest and is perched languidly on the arm of the sinister garotting chair.  She idly toys with the restraints and is clearly aroused by the spectacle before her.

Paul stands in silence his eyes urging Lucille on, broadcasting hope for her to endure.  The enormity of what he has done weighs heavy on him and he realises that if, no when, Lucille wins he will let her go and will not take a single cent of the prize money.

As Jeannie watches her daughter struggling for life, she reflects on her own life to date.  She was young and beautiful when she met Heather's father.  Fresh out of college and was embarking on a career in a local law practice.  The world was her oyster as they say.  Until a broken condom and a lover's broken promise left her with a millstone around her neck.  As far as Jeannie was concerned, Heather had ruined her life.  Well, now she had an out.  Fuck the prize money.  He daughter could die here tonight and Jeannie would be free.  She turned towards Liza and cast her a lascivious look, which the leggy lesbian returned.

Mike was getting incredibly turned on, not just by his wife, but by all three women dancing in front of him.  He realised on some level that this was wrong, but dammit, they were so sexy, writhing on the end of those ropes, gasping for breath.  He absently stroked his erect manhood through his tight jeans, fingering the blade in his other hand.  Maybe if Mandy lived, he could fuck that sweet little teenager's corpse instead.  

Mandy's vision is starting to darken and her panic deepens.  Oxygen starvation is beginning to affect her brain and her thoughts become fractured and disjointed.  She reaches out to steady herself against the upright, but it is too far away.  She hopes that nobody steals her shoe, she will need that later.  With each gasp her bloody tongue is thrust between her lips.  Her face feels fuzzy and numb as it becomes flushed with de-oxygenated blood.   He face is turning purple as cyanosis takes hold.  Everything seems such a long way away.

Heather's struggles begin to subside and she begins to twitch and spasm.  Her body is moving in ever decreasing circles as the energy fades from her young body.  Her ears are filled with the sound of rushing blood and her tongue lolls between her wet lips.  Spittle bubbles from her mouth and a long string of drool hangs from her chin and runs between her pert young breasts.

“Looks like young Heather is checking out,” chortles Mundy, pushing the dying girls body like a child on a swing.

Lucille's face is also tinged with purple as she gags and retches with each kick of her shapely legs.  Her tongue curls in the middle with each ragged cough.  To judge from her feeble struggles she has not benefited from the other girls' head start.  Her body is now almost completely limp and begins to convulse as her eyes roll in her head.  In the far distance she can hear a man's voice sobbing, “No, please, Lucille, hold on.”  Her head twitches and her eyes somehow refocus.

With what little breath she is drawing, Mandy is blowing bubbles of blood and spit between her lips.  Her body now is convulsing limply making it swing slowly back and forth.  Her brain has almost completely shut down.  Her thoughts a series of photograph-like images.  High-school.  Her first date.  Mike's face.  Louise frozen at the moment of the bullet's impact.  Her wedding.  Her lost shoe lying on the stage.  Suddenly she fights with renewed vigour.  She draws another ragged breath and kicks wildly in the air.  The audience cheer her on.  Mike knows she can last a little longer.  Didn't Mundy say, Heather was nearly dead?  She gives one last desperate kick and emits a long loud rattle, before going limp.  A stream of hot golden liquid clatters on the wood beneath her as she loses control of her bladder.  One last bodily function.

“Yes, yes” Mundy listens intently to the voice in his ear, “Yes, it's official, Mandy has been eliminated.” The crowd bay with blood-lust and excitement. “Sponsors please cut the chords.”

Paul immediately slices through the rope at his feet and races to the stairs.  Lucille crumples into a heap on the platform and Sadie loosens the noose so she can gulp in precious air.  Studio paramedics also mount the platform.

Jeannie looks at her nails in disinterest and contemplates the knife as if trying to decide what to do.  Meanwhile, he daughter's spasms become increasingly feeble and her ragged gasps fewer in frequency.

“For god's sake, you heartless bitch,” snarls Mike and pushing her aside, he cuts Heather chord.

“Whatever,” shrugs Jeannie, and wanders over to join Liza.  Oblivious to the angry stare he directs at her back.  

Sadie is at the teenager's side, “Heather, honey.  Stay with me, Baby.  I've got you.”  The paramedics administer oxygen to the stricken girl and she slowly comes around.  


As the world swims into view she looks into Sadie's concerned face, “I made it?  I'm alive, oh god, I'm alive.”

“Yes you are.  No thanks to your dear mother,”

“W-what?”

“She didn't want to cut you down.  Mike had to do it,” Sadie explains coldly.

Heather sobbed, “N-no, no way, she wouldn't...   ...oh god, I feel sick.”

“I wont let her hurt you again,” The finality in the Goth's voice scares Heather not a little.

Mundy walks slowly down from the platform, gesturing for the audience to subside.  “Well, Ladies and Gentlemen.  Well, indeed.  We have to say goodbye to lovely and oh so enthusiastic Mandy.  She played the game so very well.  No, but didn't she?  Not well enough, but she sure put on a good show.”  He stoops to pick up her discarded shoe, “Anybody want a keepsake?” And with that he tosses it to the audience, to laughter and applause.

Again he gestures for quiet, “Once the medics have checked them out, we can give the lovely Lucille and little Heather the congratulations they deserve for making it to the final.  “But,” he walks slowly forward, contemplating the stage beneath his feet, “We have another item of business to resolve.  An infraction by one of our sponsors,” he pauses for effect, “Jeannie did not cut the rope when directed.  She goes to the chair.”

A chant starts up in the audience building to a crescendo, “Chair! Chair! Chair! Chair!”  Two stage-hands seize the unfortunate woman by the arms.  She reaches imploringly towards Liza, who raises her hand and backs away smiling apologetically.  Meanwhile Sadie bounds across to stand the chair smiling broadly at the audience.  She bows theatrically and winks at them.

Next: Finale