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		                WARNING!

		This text file contains sexually explicit

		material. If you do not wish to read this

		type of literature,  or you are under age

		Eighteen, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!

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Archive name: Kidman.txt

Authors name: Spineless

Story Title : Nicole Kidman story (NC, hanging, snuff)



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***THIS IS A PURELY FICTIONAL STORY INVOLVING NONCONSENSUAL VIOLENCE

AND SNUFF;  IT'S FOR ADULTS ONLY;  READ AT YOUR OWN RISK***  ANOTHER

PIECE OF TRASH FROM THE WORLD WIDE WEB***

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			*	*	*



    Nicole Kidman's jealous husband gives her a computer-controlled

slow hanging in this one.  What fun!



			*	*	*





   "Oh, God, Tom, please don't do this," Nicole whimpered.



   "So you feel a little bit differently about things, now that your

wrists are cuffed behind your back and there's a noose around your

throat?  I thought you might. But I'm afraid it's too late for that,

Nicole.  My mind's made up.  You're going to hang.  What's more, you're

going to hang slowly, so you'll have plenty of time to think about what

you've done."



   "But I haven't done anything!"  she sobbed.



   "Don't give me that bullshit.  I know perfectly well that you fucked

Val Kilmer while you were filming that goddamned Batman movie."



   "No, Tom!  It isn't true!  You know I love you!"  Nicole protested.



   "All I know is that you're a slut.  I know you've been lying to me for

years, and I know you're lying to me now.  So go ahead and lie, Nicole. 

Enjoy it.  Because these are the last lies you'll ever tell."



   Tom sat down in front of a Macintosh computer and took hold of the

mouse.  There were only three icons on his desktop:  the hard drive, the

trash can, and something that looked like a drawing of a gallows from a

child's "hangman" game.  Below the gallows was the phrase "Hang 'Em High

1.0."  It was the only software program installed on the computer.  This

was, after all, a computer with a very specific purpose.



   Tom double-clicked on the gallows icon.  "This program cost me a

fortune," he grumbled.  "So it had damn well better work."



   The screen was filled with a black and white cartoon of a beautiful,

naked woman dancing on air, a noose tight around her throat.  Next to the

cartoon were some words:  "Hang 'Em High 1.0 Gallows Operation Utility. 

Requires motorized noose winch and electronic trapdoor release (not

included)."



   "Yeah, yeah, we have all that shit," Tom muttered impatiently.



   "Tom, please..." Nicole begged.



   "Shut up, bitch!  I'd be more than happy to ball gag you if you don't

stop whining.  Ah, here we go."  The intro screen vanished, and Tom was

left with two menus labeled "noose" and "trapdoor."  Clicking on "noose,"

he saw three options: "auto up," "auto down" and "manual."  He chose "auto

up."  A dialog box asked him to specify, in inches, how far he wanted to

raise the noose .  He paused for a moment.  He wanted to keep Nicole's

feet on the ground.  For this part of the hanging, he wanted her in pain

but able to breathe.  He took a guess and entered "5," then hit "return." 

The winch motor hummed.  Nicole started to protest, but she was cut short

as the rope dug into her throat.  Her soft, blue eyes bulged in fear and

pain as the noose pulled her up onto her tiptoes.  And then she was in the

air, hanging freely, her feet kicking and swinging as she strangled.



   "Damn!"  Tom cursed under his breath, and quickly selected "manual." 

He was presented with an up-arrow and a down-arrow; positioning the

pointer over the down-arrow, he clicked and held the mouse button.  The

motor hummed again, and Nicole returned to the earth.  Tom held the mouse

button down until Nicole's toes began to brush against the gallows

platform.  When he released the button, she was perfectly positioned: 

standing on her tiptoes, she could avoid complete strangulation, but Tom

could tell by the look on her face that breathing was difficult and very

painful for her.



   Tom turned now to his "trapdoor" menu.  Here he had three options: 

"manual," "timed" and "random."  He hesitated here.  He had planned on

setting the trapdoor to drop after a certain period of time, but there was

something exciting about the "random" option, so he selected that

instead.  The dialog box read:  "%chance of drop each minute."  Tom

entered "1," because he wanted Nicole to suffer through a nice, long

period of partial strangulation before she hanged for real.  There was

another field which read:  "Begin checking after __ minutes."  Tom entered

"90."  That was good.  Now Nicole would be held right where she was for at

least an hour and a half, and probably much  longer.  The trap would most

likely drop out from under her feet after she had been through three or

four hours of agony.  Best of all, she wouldn't have any idea when to

expect it.   Even Tom didn't know when it would happen.



   Tom took a moment and explained to Nicole what he had done.  She was

giving most of her attention to the very challenging project of trying to

breathe, but something in her eyes told him that she understood.  Tom

switched on the videocamera and made sure that it was pointing right at

his suffering wife.  Tom's new girlfriend was deeply into asphyxiation. 

She loved to play hanging games, and when Tom had told her of his plans

for Nicole, she had made him promise to film the session.  Tom knew that

the video of Nicole's hanging would drive his girlfriend wild; no doubt

she would put it on Tom's big-screen TV and fuck his brains out repeatedly

as they watched Nicole die over and over, in infinite slow-mo repeat.



   "So long, Nicole," Tom said.  "You were a good lay.  Too bad you were

such a cunt."  Nicole gagged softly.  Tom turned and left her hanging,

locking the door behind him.



   Nicole stared at the locked door in pain and disbelief.  He was really

doing it!  Her husband was murdering her!  And he didn't even have the

decency to grant her a clean, easy death.  He had to make sure she

suffered first, suffered tremendously.



   And she WAS suffering.  God, it hurt so much, and she had only just

begun!  From what Tom had told her, she knew that she had hours of this to

endure.  She didn't see how she could do it.  She gazed in horror at the

computer which was silently counting the seconds to her eventual doom. 

What a cold, impersonal thing it was, this electronic hangman!  Tom didn't

even have the courage to hang her himself; he had to get a machine to do

it for him...and another machine to watch it for him, she added to

herself, glancing at the camera.  He didn't even care about her enough to

stay and watch her die.  Somehow that made it all hurt even more.



   She imagined him watching the videotape, enjoying it with his new

girlfriend.  What would they see?  Nicole was a gorgeous young woman; she

had no illusions about that, and Tom had dressed her--or undressed

her--for her death.  Apart from a slip of lacy, black silk, she was

entirely naked.  The slip had spaghetti straps which plunged to a low

neckline, revealing her ample cleavage.  Her breasts were round and firm;

Tom had always liked them.  Nicole's nipples were very hard now, for

reasons she didn't quite understand.  She imagined that they were poking

rather conspicuously through the thin black silk.  The slip was quite

short; it showed off her smooth, sleek, well-turned legs.  It also

revealed quite a bit of creamy, white thigh.  Nicole decided that she

probably looked pretty great in her slip.  But she was in agony; what

would that do to her appearance?  She imagined what her face must look

like:  eyes bulging out in pain, tongue rolling out of her mouth, tears

pouring down her cheeks.  She imagined her soft, red hair in a disarray

around her face.  She listened to the soft, desperate gagging sounds she

made as she strangled. Did Tom really think that was sexy?  Obviously he

did.  Nicole tried to understand.  There WAS something pretty sexy about

being this helpless.  And there was a certain familiar rhythm to the way

she moved as she struggled; it was actually quite similar to the way her

body moved when she was fucking.



   Suddenly she found herself wishing desperately that Tom would come

back.  She saw now what he needed, what she had never been able to give

him, what had driven him to that other woman.  If only he'd come back and

save her, she'd play his hanging games with him!  He didn't need that

other cunt!  Nicole would let him hang her every night.  He could hang her

while she fucked him.



   But Tom wasn't coming back.  There was only Nicole, and the noose, and

the computer.  And so Nicole suffered.  She stood there balanced on her

toes, in perfect equilibrium, partly strangled and in tremendous pain, but

still able to breathe a little.  And the seconds dragged on into minutes. 

Slowly, very slowly, the minutes became hours.  How long had she been up? 

She had lost all sense of time.  There was only a single endless,

undifferentiated pain.  What did it matter, anyway?  Even if she knew how

long she had been hanging, she still wouldn't know how long she had left. 

Only the computer knew that, and it wasn't talking.  What had Tom said?  A

one percent chance every minute?  Well, what if that one percent never

came up?  She could be here all night, caught halfway between life and

death, in spectacular, eternal agony.  She felt sure that the pain would

drive her mad if it went on much longer.



   She hadn't moved an inch the whole time--at least, she hadn't moved up

or down, though she was certainly wiggling her sweet, pale young body. 

And yet the pain was getting worse all the time.  How could that be?  She

didn't understand why, but each breath was harder than the last; it was a

constant struggle to force the air down.  Her lungs felt like they were on

fire.  Such pain!  She didn't know how she was able to endure it.  Clearly

she had greater endurance than she knew.



   Nicole realized that her body was wearing out; she was simply

exhausted.  Was it possible that she might just die right here like this,

before the trapdoor ever opened?  Surely there must be limits to how long

a woman could be slow hanged like this, and she must be nearing those

limits.  Nicole was startled to find herself hoping that the end was

near.  It was the first time she had actively wished for death.  The slim

hope that Tom might have a change of heart was gone now.  She just wanted

the pain to end.



   Just when she felt as if she couldn't possibly endure another minute of

torture, there was a beep from the computer, and Nicole's world fell out

from under her.  This was it!  She was swinging freely, dancing on air;

she was well and truly hanged.  She felt an overwhelming sense of relief. 

She was almost free.  But she still had some work left to do.  The noose

was even tighter at her throat now, and it had strangled her completely. 

She found herself panicking as she realized her breathing was totally cut

off.  She began to kick desperately.  These were her death throes, the

last helpless struggles of a dying woman.  Her entire body quivered with

the tension.  She arched her back, thrusting her pert, proud breasts

forward.  She felt her bladder relax; warm piss trickled down her naked

thighs.  "Goodbye, Tom," she thought.  "I hope you enjoy my death..."  And

then she relaxed, still and lifeless in the noose.