Hangin With Mr Cooper

"Phew, sorry," I say to my friend, Amy, after our conversation was interrupted by the WhorePhone, "that was a request!"

"Yay," she says.

"Yea, I've talked to him a few times. This is the first time I didn't die!"

"Wait, what?!"

This is one of those moments where I realize the things I talk about at work aren't exactly normal. Besides the time I broke heads for the mob, I've had to participate in erotic deaths with a couple of other people.

This guy, Mervin, has called me several times. He's the type of caller who tells the story. These are my second favorite, close behind the random conversations. Not simply because I get to be lazy -- which is nice -- but because I learn a lot. I'll be armed with new material for the next guy with the fetish.

I can't be terribly lazy though, I still have to be an active participant, especially if it's a detailed fantasy. How lame would it be if you spent 15 minutes laying down your beautiful orgasmic story and you gave your partner a command or a question, wait expectantly and she says, "Excuse me, what did you say?"

I still have to be there.

Mervin is in his 30s. He has a soft and friendly voice. He sounds like he'd be your high school Chemistry teacher. He doesn't sound creepy at all. Engaging, but just a little odd.

He begins to weave his fantasy for me.

"You're a college student, not really much money. That's why you do the phone thing. You're still not making quite enough to survive so you start browsing websites looking for part time jobs. You come across one that says, 'Actresses needed! Earn $1500 in a weekend.'

You decide it can't hurt to try it out, you know they're filming a movie in the next town over, so you figure they need extras. You know there's a good chance it'll be some skeezy porn flick, but you don't care at this point.

You go to the address, and it's a nondescript house in a subdivision. The neighborhood is lower middle class. Well kept lawns and driveways cluttered with brightly colorful children's toys.

The woman who answers the doorbell is a pretty, older woman. Blonde and curvy. She's wearing a long, terrycloth robe and smoking a cigarette. She introduces herself as Claire. She sits you down on the couch and explains that they are in fact, filming a porn film. She asks if that's OK. You tell her that you'd been filmed before. You thought it was fun and it turned you on a little.

She asks if you're into bondage. She explains they're doing a film that features strangulation. She asks you what sorts of bondage play you've done in your personal life. You tell her you enjoy being tied up. Being choked makes you wet, so you're starting to get turned on at the prospect of this movie. She tells you that you'll be choked with a noose. That you'll be flimed hanging from the ceiling by your neck. She asks you if that is OK. You're a little afraid, but you tell her yes.

She leads you into a basement where there are 4 other girls in long white terrycloth robes. You notice they have marks around their wrists from being bound, they have the same marks around their necks. Claire instructs you to take all of your clothes off and follow them into a little room.

There are 5 stools set up and each of the four girls stands on one. You notice a camera on a tripod in front of the girls. Above each stool, is a noose hanging from the ceiling. They each take their robes off and pull the nooses around their necks. Claire tells you to take the empty one. As you climb up on your stool, you notice that there's a number 3 painted on it. You place the noose around your neck.

Claire tells you that each stool has a number placed on it. She will draw a number, and that girl will hang until she dies. She looks you in the eye and asks you if this is OK.

You notice the other girls are masturbating as the camera rolls. You're turned on, too, and you begin to touch yourself. You tell Claire that it is OK.

She reaches into a hat, and what number does she grab, Sarah?"

"Three," I say with a sticky gasp. That's why you have to pay attention!

"That's right. And you know what that means?" He's closing in on the finish line now.

"It means I'm going to die," I say, afraid and aroused at once.

"It means you're going to hang from your neck until you die. Do you want that, Sarah?"

"Oh yes!" I gasp.

"Say it..."

"I want to hang from my neck until I die," I whisper as he groans.

"Do you want to die for me today?"

"I do. I want to die for you today. I want to hang by my neck until I die..."

After taking a moment to regain his composure, Mervin thanks me. He reminds me that these are just fantasies, and he doesn't really want to watch girls hang until they die. I tell him I understand, and that it was a hot fantasy. And it was fun, in that disturbingly interesting way. As I said, he's called me several times since then, once with the same fantasy, once where I didn't die, and once today.

I told my friend, Jeremy, about this caller yesterday. I've known Jeremy for many years and he wants to be a mortician. Thus we joke about horrible things. He asked me if I had a good death rattle for Mervin. Only he would think such a thing! It hadn't even occurred to me. I had to admit it was a good idea.

I helped another guy hang his girlfriend. Then there was the guy I had to beat to death with a rock while I rode him. For whatever reason, these calls didn't really make huge waves in my mind's perversion ocean. That should bother me! How was your day? Oh the usual: pregnant trannies, sexy grandmas and snuff porn.

When Mervin called today, he had a pretty creepy scenario. I was a prostitute who went with a john to this cellar. Same bare white room with a bright light and a video camera. There was a drainpipe with a noose waiting for me. He was so excited describing the room, and it was so vivid. I always try to match my breathing and the tone of my voice with the caller's. I was there. I could see the room with the milk-crate for me to stand on. Hear the drip off the drain pipe and its echo in the cold room. I wondered if he'd ever had a girlfriend who liked to be choked and if he "accidentally" strangled her too hard one night and got off at the thought of making her die. I wondered if he'd ever actually killed anyone.

I understand that these are just fantasies; it's just difficult to keep in mind when you hear that tone of voice. I tried to put that out of my mind and play along with Mervin though. Aside from the strangling teenagers thing, he seemed like a nice guy. I was a little nervous when I made my first attempt at the death rattle today. I didn't want it to be hokey. I heard the catch in his voice and the groan so I did it again. And then once more, the grand finale. I'm giving up last breath. . .for you. He absolutely loved it! I'd like to thank Jeremy for helping me creep myself out and ensuring Mervin's place as a regular. I'll take him over Mr. Fantastic any any day. I look forward to the many ways I'll be strangled.