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Gallows Mine
Hank had practically
fallen over the rattler. When he hit the ground and saw it out of the corner
of his eye, he froze and tried to wait for it to leave, or at least to warn
Ed about it. He kept his eyes on the snake but forced his mind to wander, to
think of something that wouldn't make him move and startle the deadly
creature. Hank thought about
the time Ed had lassoed him while he was bathing. He had the grinning, naked
man at gun point and forced him to lie on the grass. Then he had tied Hank's
ankles together and ran a rope to his horse's saddle and another noosed rope
back to Hank's balls. Hank remembered Ed's warm smile under that damned sexy
blond mustache (smoking one of Hank's expensive
cigars), the wink, and the running jump Ed made into the saddle. "Eeehhha! Giddap. Come on, baby.
Let's take this hunk of meat to the market!" At first, Hank was
pulled along by his ankles laughing, but a grinning Ed had taken up the slack
in the rope attached to Hank's balls so that the horse was dragging him
around more and more by his balls. Finally, Hank was screaming and still
laughing between his howling. It had been a rough ride from the stream back
to their mine, and Hank walked bowlegged for three days, but they had had a
lot of fun and the sex was wild for those three days. Hank grinned and
shook his head remembering how slow it was to get Ed started on these types
of activities, but once he did, Hank was in for a powerful (and sore) time. Hank shuddered and
stopped, with the dawning realization that he was moving! He glanced at the
snake, hoping it had left. But it didn't leave. It hadn't moved, either. Hank
watched it more intently and even dared to move his head so he could
ascertain why the critter wasn't attacking. From the condition of its skin
and the position of its vertebrae, Hank realized that it was dead. Cautiously, just in
case it or another one might still strike, he got up and using a stick was
about to throw the carcass into the rocks--and then he hit upon a plan. He
took out his Bowie knife and sliced out the poison sacks from the snake's
mouth and tried to milk any residual poison from its fangs. He washed the
fangs and head in the nearby stream and then gently, almost fondly, wrapped
the master part of his plan into his bandanna and traipsed back to the mine. Hank had wanted Ed
to do something for a long time, but Ed was the more conservative of the two,
even through he was eleven years younger than Hank.
The two were as different as night and day. Hank was nearing forty-six and
was the shorter of the two men. He had a stocky build with naturally
protruding pectoral muscles made more prominent from his work first as a
carpenter's assistant to his father, later as a wainwright,
and most recently as a miner. The body hair covered each chest muscle in a
swirl of dark hair and his firm abdomen was matted with it. This, coupled
with his darker complexion, made him look almost swarthy. His neck was thick
and muscular so that there almost wasn't any change in width between the two,
giving him, as he often grumbled, a "tin can" appearance. His father, uncle,
and two friends had gone west when he was only eleven and had taken him along
despite his grandmother's protestations. The older men had been bitten by
gold fever and rushed out to make their fortunes. They never did.
First they panned for gold and Hank became pretty
good at this, but they never got enough gold. In town, his father and the
other men would get drunk at the saloon and maybe lay some whore while Hank
stayed outside and watched the horses. It was at this time
that Hank had seen his first hanging. His father, all eager, had heard about
it and had grabbed Hank and hurried into town as if the circus had come. They
had been able to get in front of the crowd and his father had positioned Hank
in front of him, his hand's on the boy's shoulders.
"Now watch,
son," his father narrated as if he were an expert (even though this was
also his first viewing, too), "those men are claim jumpers. The
sheriff's gonna bring them out one at a time and
then he's gonna walk them up those thirteen steps,
put them on that platform, and put that rope over their heads so it fits
around their necks. Then that man over there ..." "The one in the
black shirt, paw?" "--yeah. He's gonna pull that lever. Now if you squat down a bit, son,
you can see where the man's body is gonna go,
'cause the lever opens a trap in the floor." "So?" "Well, son,
don't ya get it? When the man falls through, the
rope won't let him go very far and it will suddenly snap and tighten on his
neck." "Why would he
want to do that? Won't that hurt him, paw?" "(Sigh.) HE
doesn't want to have it done to him. Those men want to do it to him 'cause he
tried to jump a man's rightful claim to his gold mine and they killed him.
Now the lawmen are gonna kill THEM." "Oh." Hank had watched
intently as the three men each went through the platform, but he was
disappointed. The drop snapped the necks of the first two men and he could
barely see the men's bodies because the platform was in the way. He had to
squat down to see them dangling and they were just twitching a bit and
swaying. It wasn't until they
brought the half-breed out that things changed a mite. He was shirtless and
tall and very well-muscled. He had large, dark nipples and smooth, velvety
looking dark skin. Sweat was making the man's torso gleam in the sun and
rivulets of moisture dripped down his sides. Hank had always admired men, but
most people would have regarded this as his just looking up to real men. When the half-breed
was hung, the trap had stuck at first, so he didn't drop right. Rather, he
sort of slid down a bit until his feet wedged into the small opening and this
sprung the trap open. As a result, his neck didn't get to be snapped, so he
was choked to death and writhed wildly like a man breaking in a horse. Hank
watched open-mouthed as the man bucked and spun and sputtered. The sheriff cursed
and tried to run under the platform to grab the doomed man's legs, but, even through there was a belt holding the legs together, the
shirtless man was kicking violently. Finally, the sheriff and two men were
able to run under the platform, grab the legs, yank down, and hold him down
with their own weight--one man was practically sitting on the ground with his
butt just an inch above the ground. The man's body was
turned so Hank could see his front, and he watched the shallow movements of
the chest and belly and saw a large bulge in the man's crotch that suddenly
looked very wet. He assumed that it was piss because he didn't know any
better, but it was an image that kept him awake many a night. After the hanging,
most of the men were grinning and remarking "Did ya
see him cum? Wow! He shot a real bad load. Musta
had a belly full of it." "Yeah, well Redskins are always fucking
anyway. That's about all they know how to do--fuck a squaw and get drunk ...
and kill perfectly law-abiding white miners." Hank couldn't find
his father after the hangings, so he went up to the gallows and examined it.
The bodies were removed and placed into a cart and hauled off, but Hank was
interested in the structure itself. He frowned. With the eye of the son of a
carpenter, he evaluated the work. He would've built it differently, you know.
His would have let the men drop so the crowd could see them better. His would
have varied heights for dropping so that a man's neck could be broken or he
could just swing and struggle. When he found his
father, he noticed how pale and sweaty his face was. He also noticed the wet
spots on the front of his shirt--evidence of his shirt having been washed
off. His father never admitted to having gotten sick, but Hank knew. The four men and the
boy moved their operations elsewhere since panning for gold wasn't very
lucrative. Hank had witnessed what his uncle and the other two men did in the
mine at night when his dad was asleep. He watched astutely as his uncle, on
his knees, placed his mouth around the piss-meat of the other men. They all
seemed to be having lots of fun and enjoyed their game. He saw them drop
their pants and stick their hard pissers into each other's shitting holes.
Hank had no idea that these body parts could be used so cleverly or with such
apparently pleasant results. A few months later and Hank's uncle died of
fever. The other two men were more distraught over this death than the man's
own brother. The remaining older
men had been constructing a mine. Hank new the structure wasn't sturdy, but
the men weren't interested in refinements, just so the rafters would hold up
so they could mine their gold (which they hadn't found yet). Hank's dad,
after all, had been a carpenter. But gold fever is the worst kind and it
clouds a man's judgment. The mine collapsed
and one of the other men was killed. They tried to dig him out, but he was
dead when they found him. His companion blamed Hank's dad and tied a noose
around his neck. He got onto his horse and dragged Hank's dad by the rope
causing the carpenter to run frantically after the horse. The distraught man
went into town and got drunk, the dead carpenter still tethered to his horse.
Hank told the sheriff what he had witnessed and the townsfolk dragged the
hapless man to a simple structure of a pole and a pennant-shaped beam. Hank
watched in awe as the sheriff tied the knots in the noose and hoisted the
drunken man up by his neck. This town didn't have a fancy gallows, it seemed,
but this gibbet did the trick even if the man danced like a drunk to his
grave. Hank headed east to
his grandmother who got him apprenticed as a wainwright's
assistant. Eventually, he got his own business. Hank checked to make
sure that Ed was in the mine shaft, then he tore open one pants' leg, using
his knife to hack though the fabric. Taking the dead snake out of the
bandanna, he held its head so the mouth was open and pressed the fangs into
his calf, causing the fangs to break the skin. The fangs made the marks he
was looking for. He laid the carcass so that the head was just barely in the
fire so that the fangs and front of the head got scorched. Bending over, he
cut the wounds, sucking out blood and any poison. He started to limp
and to shout down the shaft for Ed. When he looked up at the rafters at the
entrance to the shaft, he grinned, and muttered, "Soon, my friend.
Soon." The sun-faded
hand-lettered sign decreeing the name of the mine as "Gallows Mine"
was above the beam that acted as a gallows decoration in front of the mine's
entrance. Two large and sturdy poles supported the beam and three lengths of
fine rope hung from the cross beam, each with a hangman's noose tied in it.
One of the nooses had a hanging effigy of a man which Hank and Ed often let
drape down in front of the opening to their mine. Ostensibly, this was as a
warning to claim-jumpers, but in reality, it was Hank's passion. Now, the
effigy was wrapped around one pole, and the other two nooses hung down a foot
above Hank's head. The mine was just a
diversion for the two men--an excuse to come out west to indulge in a relationship
condemned by others. Ed was the conservative businessman in the town back
east, but he was a firebrand out here--even though he wouldn't help Hank
achieve his own wildest fantasy. Ed had been the
middle-class owner of three stores. When he had stepped into Hank's shop to
order new parts for his carriage, both men stood stock still, fascinated with
each other--Hank, the burly laborer sweating on a
hot afternoon, his large hairy arms bare, and Ed, the crisply attired, tall
and lean, blond one. Both men had been speechless until Ed lamely panted out
his requests for the carriage parts. Hank had calmly
walked to the double door at the front of the shop and told Ed to stay put.
He then casually left the shop, adjusting the awkward package in his crotch
and had locked the doors, placing his "Closed" sign out front. He
had closed the shutters, too, and Ed was left in a steamy, dark building
alone, smelling the heavily erotic scent that lingered. Hank entered through
the back and the two men spent the afternoon tearing each other's clothes off
and ravaging their partner's bodies. In the light of day, and for mutual
protection, they determinedly avoided each other's contact so as not to bring
suspicion upon themselves, but at night they would meet in the barn behind
Hank's home in the country. Townspeople, however, are busybodies and gossips
and this can make life difficult. It was bad enough that the younger Ed
wasn't married, even though he was a successful businessman and invited to
all of the "right" parties and dinners. Hank's drinking
buddies chided him for the same reason and once or twice he was involved in a
brawl with men who practically demanded that he get a wife and settle into
the same punishing routine and responsibilities they had had to endure. The two men knew
they were living on a bomb, so they moved west where they could indulge
themselves in their passions--and they had several. They bought the claim
site in an area where even the Indians didn't go and started the mine for the
times when they weren't fucking and such. The site was chosen only because a
natural rock formation (when viewed at dawn or dusk) looked like an erect
penis. Ed and Hank moved two large boulders under it for a complete genitalia
effect. Hank had to work up
to his real passion because the younger blonde was still somewhat
conservative in a few things. Oh, he had already abandoned himself to the
vigorous thrusts of his long, narrow prick into Hank's hard ass or Hank's
thick dick wedging his buttocks apart. And he would slurp on Hank's cock,
balls, and rump with juicy eagerness just like that first encounter, even
after nearly six years out here. However, when it
came to the other "games" (as Hank called them), he was always
initially reluctant. It took Hank two months to convince Ed to throw him some
gut punches. Hank had to get a few drinks into his partner to loosen up his
tight-ass reserve, but once the man let go, Hank's gut was pummeled furiously--just the way he liked it. Ed always came
around to Hank's viewpoint on these games, but he was afraid he would go too
far. He was afraid of his own secret desires, often bewailing how Hank
couldn't possibly know how black his heart really was. But Hank did. It was
as dark as his own. One of Hank's favorite games was to have Ed tie the two nooses to his
ankles and hang him upside down. Then, with a smaller noose cinched around
his balls, he would have Ed hoist him up all the way to the top until his
balls touched the crossbeam. Not only was his ballsack
stretched, but the large, heavy knot crushed his balls as it tightened. Of
course, Hank screamed and writhed as his nuts hoisted the full weight of his
strong body, but he would get quite angry and refuse to let Ed fuck him if Ed
stopped and cut Hank loose too early. Hank also liked to
get his ass whipped and his nuts crushed or hit and Ed could never understand
how Hank not only could stand the punishment, but always wanted him to hit
harder and give him more. Not that Ed wanted to stop, either, but he feared
that if he got started really getting into it, he might fall over the brink
into his own passions and not stop. Hank gazed up with
awe at the center noose, his torn pants showing the
fang bites. He had used it a few times to get hanged. These were choking
hangings rather than the drop-and-snap-your-fool-neck type which Ed kept
warning him about. Ed didn't want to participate at first, fearing Hank would
get killed, but the first few times, Hank set up a ladder, applied the noose
to himself, snapped some handcuffs onto his wrists (at first he kept the
wrists in front so he could raise himself by grabbing the rope or beam before
he passed out, but later he would cuff his wrists behind his back), and kick
aside the ladder. The first time he
had bet Ed he would do it and Ed just grumbled and refused to
participate--but he watched the naked man with his preparations. The first
time Hank kicked the ladder aside, Ed rushed toward him and lifted him up.
Hank had to kick Ed's balls to get the slim blond man to release him. Only after Hank was
obviously loosing ground and only after the hanging
man's raging hard-on was as stiff as it could get would Ed be able to get
close and take him down. The first time, Ed cried, but Hank gave him such a
powerful fuck afterwards that he sheepishly admitted that it was worth the
scare. They didn't do this
often because Ed had strenuously objected. By the third time, Ed threatened
to leave camp, but Hank cuffed his own hands behind his back and admitted
that if Ed didn't eventually lift him and cut him down, he would hang to
death. "Go ahead, you
blamed fool! I'll bury you and go back east or just let you swing so the
coyotes or some cougar gets your stupid carcass!" He nervously stroked
his thick, blond mustache and turned away to clean
up the campsite, attempting to ignore the determined older man. Hank shrugged--and
kicked the ladder across the clearing at him. Ed tried not to watch--not to
worry--not to run in when his friend dropped, gasped, and moaned, but he
heard the rope creaking and saw the violent kicking, since Hank didn't bind
his legs together and he saw the deep purplish red in the older man's strong
face and he ran to him. He stopped suddenly when he spotted the stiff,
purple-colored cock, hesitated, then lunged at it
and sucked at it furiously, popping Hank's nuts and sucking the huge wads of
slick man-juice which spurted into his mouth. Hank almost didn't
get saved that time and for the next six months, every time Hank got anywhere
near the gallows, Ed would lasso him, tie him up and slap his gut, ass, cock,
and balls until a tearful and very punished Hank reluctantly promised he
wouldn't hang himself for a while, or was too sore to do it. Actually, Ed liked
it when Hank hanged himself. He liked to watch this strong older man writhe
in agony and come close to death. He was just afraid--or maybe was hoping--it
would go too far. His "black heart" had wanted to see his companion
hung to death just as much as Hank wanted it to be done to him, but he just
couldn't cross that final threshold for him. It wasn't only the lust and sex
that bonded the two men together, you see. They did love each other. There
were the tender times, too, when they just embraced or were just content to
be in each others' company. Hank knew he was
starting to get old, though. He didn't want to become a burden to his younger
lover. Already there were white hairs on his chest (which he had Ed pull out
while he was tied up) and he wasn't as limber or agile anymore. Ed needed a
younger lover, Hank believed, and with the value Ed could get from the small
vein of gold the two men had found, it would be easier for Ed. Hank had never
wanted the gold anyway. It would screw things up for him and Ed to go back to
civilization moderately wealthy. "Ed! Ed! Get up
here quick! I've been bitten by a rattler!" "WHAT!" Ed
stumbled out, squinting into the sudden daylight. His face was pale and
shocked and he quivered in fear. He saw the beaten corpse of the snake by the
fire. "Yeah, dammit! And after we were lucky enough to hit that vein
of gold the critter got MY vein. I smashed it and tossed it in the fire and I
tried to suck the poison out, see? I didn't get it, though. Hank. I think I'm
gonna die--and from a fucking snake bite instead of
..." He cast his eyes up
above him. "Let me try! We
can get it out in time." Actually Ed had no idea how to determine the
extent of damage done by such a bite, but he did see the marks left by the
fangs and the redness and swelling brought on by Hank's actions "No. Ed, I been
trying for the past twenty minutes. You know what's gonna
happen. It's swollen and I feel feverish already." The two men looked
at each other, their glances exchanging a world of meaning. Both men knew
what Hank believed they should do. Ed grimly nodded. With tears in his eyes,
he hugged his lover of twelve years, babbling "I love you. I can't lose
you--not now, not ever. Why did this have to happen?" Finally, Hank
managed to pry Ed off him, and he felt a little guilty about having duped the
man before him--a man who unconditionally loved him. Hank hugged Ed and
kissed his shoulders. "Help me do what I have always wanted since I was
eleven. That's the way I want to go, not like this." "Okay. But I'm
going up the ladder with you. I'm gonna fuck you so
hard you won't feel the rope, so it'll be the last thing you'll remember to
have happened to you before ..." Ed had done this
twice before. He would stand behind Hank on the ladder with his long, thin
cock up his partner's hard ass, both men tied together around the calves and
thighs, his own hands curled around the crossbeam supporting his weight and
Hank's while he kissed Hank's neck and shoulders. Then Ed would kick out the
ladder from under both of them. Hank's bucking would get the froth built up
in Ed's cock and he could actually curl his arms and lift or lower Hank with
his powerful arms while the older man bucked around--relieving the pressure
on Hank's neck for a time and prolonging the experience until both would
shoot their loads at the same time. Ed found these
experiences to be very hot, and although he desired them, he had hesitated
the second time because he feared he would get so involved in the sensations
that he was experiencing that he would forget about Hank's welfare until it
was too late. Now, though, it was too late. He'd actually be able to feel the
final death spasms from Hank's sphincter muscle on his cock. He would feel
the life go out of a man while he was spewing his own seed into him. Ed made all of the preparations
and tied their legs together. "Ready?" he said grimly. The knots in Hank's
hard stomach were more intense than ever before. This was for real. This was
the last time, the end. No more would he feel the frantic thrusts of Ed's
cock in his mouth and ass after this. Sweat glistened his skin and hung onto
the hairs of his chest and abdomen making them glisten like tiny diamonds.
Even so, he felt strangely chilled. He savored the
feel of the rope around his wrists as Ed tied them together, the belts around
his legs and around both waists, the fiber snugly,
lovingly positioned around his throat. He relished the feel of Ed's hard
stomach and hips pressed into his back and the very hard cock meat in his
rump. Hank nodded. Ed placed his arms
around Hank's waist and Hank heard the familiar click of the handcuffs.
Startled, he looked to see Ed's wrists cuffed. He twisted his neck to see a
smiling Ed with the other noose around his own neck! "Here we go
buddy. We're in this one together till the end." He kicked the ladder
away. The ropes creaked loudly from the weight. Both men twisted in agony
from the pain, but were able to enjoy the feel of the other's movements. The
ropes tightened as their agonized squirms help to cinch the nooses tighter
about the men's necks. Their manhoods became so
swollen and engorged with blood that they both believed they would be
shooting blood instead of semen, but the final ecstasy hit them both
simultaneously as their balls, prostate, and glands hastened to spew their
final liquids in one final hurrah. Another pair of eyes
watched them and another pair of ears perked up and listened to their gasps
and groans and the squeaking rope. The men saw stars when they orgasmed and twisted violently one last time. Two loud
snaps could be heard by the listener nearby as both necks cracked from the
weight and the movement. Hank jettisoned a huge spray of his foamy cum into
the wilderness and onto the rocks as Ed's massive load sought to squirt the
deepest it had ever gone--as if to imbue the dying man with life-giving seed.
Ed's hands dropped to Hank's crotch but were held up by the still engorged member. Both sets of fingers and toes arched wide, then twitched in small spasms, then lay still. The stillness that
followed the violent scene was almost as loud, but the giant cougar
cautiously approached and sniffed at the slimy mess on the ground and then at
the two hanging corpses. The bodies were dangling only six inches from the
ground and they were still warm, so it was easy for the large cat to have two
for dinner today. |
