Returning to the Cabin

The cabin was dark when she finally arrived. The moon only occasionally peeked through the clouds to illuminate the snow-covered mountainside.

I waited...

The rope felt good in my hands as I pulled it taut, waiting in the shadows. Even through the gloves, I could feel its texture, its roughness. Just as I pulled the rope taut again, I heard her car door close and smiled to myself, feeling a stirring in my jeans as I anticipated what was to come.

I practically stopped breathing so I could hear better. Soon I heard the crunch of the snow beneath her feet as she approached the cabin, and a few seconds later I could hear her mounting the four steps up to the front porch. I took that opportunity to breathe again, as quietly as possible, listening intently as she crossed the old wooden porch and set something down before the front door.

As the key slid into the lock, I held my breath again, pulling the rope taut one final time before giving it some slack. I heard the key turn in the lock, heard the lock disengage, and readied myself.

When at last the door opened a crack, every nerve in my body seemed to course with electricity. I heard her grunt softly with effort, then she pushed the door open a bit further before stepping forward...

At one heartbeat, I was standing in the shadows, the door preventing her from seeing me, the rope readied in my hands. At the next heartbeat, the large duffel bag had been dropped, the rope secured around her neck and her lengthy hair.

The ensuing struggle was wonderful. As I pulled the rope tight, she gasped beautifully, the sounds reaching my ears with the grace of a bubbling brook. She instinctively tried to claw at the rope, to pull it free of her neck so that she could resume her normal breathing, yet her gloves prevented her from obtaining a proper hold on the rope to do so -- especially in her panic. She tried backing hard against me to knock me away, but her small form could not generate enough power to do more than cause me to wobble slightly, although I rewarded her by lessening the constriction of her neck.

Appropriately, the sounds escaping her throat changed. Clearly, she could obtain more oxygen, but still not enough to ensure long-term viability. Her next tactic was to try to backhand me even as one hand continued its effort to pull the rope away from her neck, but thanks to the moonlight brightening at just the right moment and shining through the doorway, I tipped my head aside to avoid the attempted blow.

She tried to stomp on my toes. The steel-toe boots prevented her from actually hurting me, and I gave a low evil laugh in her ear before tipping my head aside again to avoid another attempted backhand.

I tightened the constriction in response.

And on the struggle went. Soon she was sagging to her knees, both hands furiously attempting to loosen the rope from around her neck. I "sagged" with her, loosening the rope just slightly, enjoying how she swayed side to side, back and forth. I wished that I had a second pair of arms and hands so that I could unzip her winter coat and reach inside and grope her sensitive breasts as I continued to strangle her, but that was not necessary to arouse me, for I was thoroughly enjoying her distress, and I wondered if she could feel my hardness against her when she backed into me.

At last she knelt upon the hardwood floor, her struggles lessening, slowing. I tightened the rope further, enthralled with the raspy sounds rising from her constricted throat. "Pl... Pl..." she gasped.

"'Please?'" I taunted her in a menacing voice. "As in, 'Please strangle me to death and have your kinky way with me?'"

"Pleasantville!"

I loosened the rope completely, and she began to fall forward. I caught her with an arm around her chest before she could brace herself with a hand. Her most unusual safeword had brought an instant end to the strangulation, and as she enjoyed many lungfuls of fresh, unrestricted oxygen, through the winter coat and whatever she was wearing underneath, I relished the heaving of her breasts against my arm.

Several minutes passed as I simply held her, caressed her, kissed her cheek, and whispered words of praise and admiration and love. The rope hung loosely around her neck, a constant reminder that just moments before, she was at her most vulnerable.

In time, she had calmed, and that was when I slowly turned her around to face me and I kissed my incredible wife.