This is fantasy - do not try at home.

***

PART 4

I knocked on Alex's door again. Still no answer.

I had passed by his room three times in the last hour, hoping to meet up before Asphyx Club. I had wanted to repeat our experience the previous week: watching breathplay videos together to get inspiration for the upcoming Asphyx Club.

Realising I was late now, I hefted my bag onto my shoulder, and set off for Asphyx Club.

***

I entered to see Jon and Jane waiting for me.

"Excellent - I was afraid you weren't going to join us today," said Jon.

"Sorry..." I responded, looking around the gym hall for Alex.

Jon caught my confusion. "We've paired you differently this week. Peter has taken Alex and Kitty so they can experience hanging for the first time. As you both have hanged before, we'll be trying something different."

My immediate reaction was disappointment. I wanted to be with Alex when he first experienced hanging, supporting and reassuring him. I knew from my demonstration at the open evening that it was a frightening prospect anticipating the noose.

I let Jon lead us over to the corner where he had prepared for our breathplay sessions today.

***

Jane was just beginning to struggle. She was dressed in a one piece swimsuit, and was enclosed in a large plastic storage bag. Jon had vacuumed out the air, and the bag clung tightly to her body.

However, my attention was on the other side of the hall. Alex stood on a stool, arms bound, head hooded, and a noose around his neck. He was wearing a t-shirt and the same blue lycra shorts he had lent me the previous week. Kitty stood behind him, her hands resting on his arse.

I watched her whisper something in his ear, and then push him off the stool. Immediately Alex kicked his legs out, futilely seeking support, in the panic that I recognised.

Next to me, Jane's struggles intensified. The clear plastic crackled as she raised her knees into the air, and pushed her head back onto the floor. I knew I should be supporting her, but I saw her as just a distraction as I focused on Alex's air dancing instead.

As Alex weakened, Kitty approached him, no longer in danger of being kicked by his flailing legs. She rested one hand on his arse to steady his movements, and with the other reached out for his erect cock, framed by the tight lycra.

I watched in indignation as she rubbed his cock, starting slowly and then speeding up as Alex approached the inevitable drop into unconsciousness. I had had a similar opportunity the week before, and I had resisted the temptation. Now she was taking advantage of his helplessness.

Finally, Alex rocked his hips, and I saw the dampness spread as Kitty helped him to climax before he passed out.

I looked away, unable to take anymore.

***

It was now my turn to go into the bag. I half listened to Jon's instructions: how to fold myself to fit into the limited space, what to expect as the vacuum cleaner sucked the air from the bag.

But my focus was on Alex and Kitty again. Alex was getting Kitty ready to hang, guided by Peter. I watched as he pulled her arms back, and bound her wrists together. He gently lowered the noose over her bowed head, and then lifted her long black hair free of the noose. He watched intently, as Peter tightened and adjusted the noose to provide the optimal slow hang.

Through all this, Alex was animatedly talking to Kitty. I knew he was buzzing from his turn, from having successfully endured his noose dance. Kitty laughed at something Alex said, and I felt it like a blow to the stomach.

"OK, let's go." Jon indicated the open bag. I climbed in as instructed: bending my knees so my heels rested close to my thighs. Crossing my arms behind my back, each wrist touching the opposing elbow. My arms were not bound. Jon had explained that the vacuum pressure would hold me tightly in place, unable to escape.

"You'll love it - it's a fantastic sensation," said Jane.

I nodded in response, not trusting myself to talk.

Jon fastened the sides of the bag, attached the hose, and turned on the vacuum cleaner. Slowly the bag shrank towards my body. I breathed deeply, making the most of the air that would soon be evacuated. I felt the plastic embrace my body surprisingly tightly as the last air left the bag. I took one last long breath in, fighting the vacuum cleaner's pull. My ears popped at the decrease in pressure.

Then sudden silence, as the vacuum cleaner was turned off. Jon disconnected the hose, and I was left with just my heartbeat for company.

I held my breath as long as I could. Then instinct took over: I breathed out, and then breathed in the same oxygen deprived air.

I tested the limits of my movement. While the plastic held my limbs firmly, I could rock myself from side to side, and flex my body like a snake.

Temptation got the better of me. Using energy that I knew was further reducing my limited oxygen supply, I twisted and strained until my upper body was on its side, allowing me to look across the room.

Through the clear plastic, I saw that Kitty was now ready to hang. She was not hooded, just dressed in a tight t-shirt and black leggings. Her bare feet rested on the stool, her heels in the air as the slack had been removed from the rope. Alex walked around her, seemingly admiring the sight. His blue lycra shorts were stained dark at the crotch; he seemed unashamed at showing his previous enjoyment to the hall.

I fought my body's wish to struggle as my lungs strained uselessly for fresh air, keeping myself in a position to continue watching.

Alex stopped directly in front of Kitty. He reached around her, placing his hands on her arse cheeks. He stood on tiptoes, and in-shock, I saw him give Kitty a long, lingering kiss. He stepped back, pulling her forward off the stool.

I felt suddenly sick. I had completely misread the situation between Alex and me. What a fool I had been - everyone would be laughing at me having seen my puppy-like adoration of Alex.

I let my body's natural reaction take over, and I rolled onto my back as I struggled and spasmed. My vision blurred as tears pooled in my eyes, unable to run away due to the clinging plastic.

For the first time I welcomed the oncoming blackness, as I hurled myself into the relief of oblivion, wishing never to emerge from its dark embrace.