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Mike’s
Last Hanging
I look at Luke’s
and Fred’s corpses, hanging from the trees. There is no wind, the bodies are
perfectly still. It’s good to look at them. I should have liked to be here,
in the morning, when Mike and his men hanged them, but Luke didn’t want any
known person among his hangmen. Only Mike, of course: Mike is the boss. I look at their red
faces, at the engorged tongues, at the eyes, bulging out. I watch their erect
dicks, the flies feasting on their faces, their nuts, their dicks, theirs
asses, their hands, everywhere. A lot of bugs swarming and feeding on their
sweat, their blood, their cum, their shit, their piss. Now they are just
carcasses for the insects and the wild animals. There is a faint
smell of rotting flesh. Damn, it’s really
good watching them. My dick is so hard, that I cannot stand any more. I need
a good fuck. I want to be screwed, while I am thinking about these two
corpses, when I see them again in my eyes. I enter Mike’s
office. I want him to fuck me, I need it. He is at his desk,
as always, smoking his cigar. I watch him, sitting quietly, tough. He smiles and he
asks: - Did you see them? I nod. I smile,
too. I show him my cock, tent-poling my trousers. - Mike, please… He smiles. - OK, cub. He stands up and he
takes me in his arms, kissing me deeply. He smells of sweat and tobacco. I
love his raw male smell. He buries his rough black beard in my chest and his
large hands slide under my trousers. I am in a hurry, I
cannot wait, but Mike holds me in his arms. He cups my buttocks with his
rough hands, sturdy and strong hands, large, powerful hands. I kiss his face
and he holds me. I mutter: - Please… He lets me free,
guffawing. I lower my pants and I bend on Mike’s desk, exposing my ass. I turn to look at
him. He is opening his shirt and then he lowers his pants. I like his massive
and scary body. His muscles are taut and hard beneath his hairy, sun-baked
skin. I look at his huge cock. It’s gorgeous. Mike grabs my hair
and lifts my head. Then with one swift thrust, he rams into me. I gasp. The
pain is strong, but we both know I like it so. I hear the gear on
his belt clattering and this sound arouses me even more. Mikes goes on for a
long period of time and I don’t know where I am, who I am. I only know a
large cock is entering my ass, filling it. Finally, I feel him
tense and then he is cumming up my ass, filling it with his hot juice. And I
cum too, over the desk, making a mess of the papers he was reading. I close my eyes. I
would remain so for ever, his large cock into my ass, his strong hands
bruising my buttocks, his heavy body over mine, his strong smell filling my
nostrils. To remain so until
it is time to die. To be strangled by Mike, by his strong, hairy hands. Or
hanged by him. He knows it. He is the only man that knows the nightmare at
the bottom of my mind. He bites my left
ear, then he squeezes, not too gently, my nuts, and I feel his cock leaving
my ass. I almost sigh. Mike buttons his
shirt and raises his pants and I do the same. Mike’s cum is dripping from my
ass and I like this feeling. - Sit down, Philip.
I have something to tell you. I look at him. I
nod, speechless. I sit on the chair in front of the desk. I look at the
papers, where my cum is glistening. Mike takes them and throws them away in
the wastebasket. He looks at me. He
takes again his cigar. - It’s time,
Philip. He doesn’t complete
his sentence, it is not necessary. My heart jumps. I know the threat these
words hold for me. It’s our turn. For a moment my mind
recoils from the thought and I ask: - How many men did
you hang? I joined Mike in
his business ten years ago, when he was doing fake and true hangings. But he
had been hanging for a long period of time before I met him. Mike’s eyes are
gleaming. - I don’t know.
Hundreds. - And now it’s
time. Mike bursts into a
big grin. - Yeah, it’s time.
I am getting old. I look at Mike and
guffaw. Mike’s hair and beard are grey, but he doesn’t look old. He is a
heavy-built man, as strong as a bull, far stronger that many younger men. And
he is still able to fuck me three or four times in a few hours. - Old? At
fifty-two? Mike smiles. - Fifty-two is
enough. I nod. He wants to
meet his death, like me. I asked him to hang me some years ago. He postponed
my death. He always said that I had to wait for him and that he wasn’t ready
yet. He wanted to wait for Luke. Luke was his best friend. Now Luke is gone. I smile, my heart
racing. - So it’s our turn,
now? Of course we’ll die
together. It couldn’t be different. We are lovers. Mike is my brother, my
father, my man. I had to wait for him and now we’ll die together. Mike shakes his
head. - No, Doug, it’s my
turn. I am a lonely rider, you know. - Fuck, Mike, you
cannot… You always told me we would die together. - No, I didn’t, I
always told you, that you had to wait for me. It’s different. And for a moment we
are silent, alone in the office. I look at him, astonished. He cannot die and
leave me here, I asked him to die a lot of times. Ha cannot! He pours us a drink
and he watches me. Then he begins to tell me his plan. He ends up saying: - As you see, it
will be a real messy affair. I nod. Many men
prefer a clean death, no shit, no piss. Some use a butt-plug, some clean
their innards. But Mike has different tastes. - Time to go, now.
We’ll meet tomorrow morning. He smiles. Tomorrow
morning. I look at him. Nevermore. Nevermore. His large cock into my ass.
Nevermore. His sturdy hands squeezing my nuts. Nevermore. I rise, but I have
to sit again. - If you changed
your mind, Philip, no problem. - I didn’t, Mike. He rises. He
approaches. He bends over me and he kisses me. - We’ll meet
tomorrow, Philip. We are eight men,
riding through the night. In a farm the dogs begin to bark, but we are soon
away, where there is no farm. The camp is near. I can see the fire. We leave the horses
not far from the fire and we approach. Mike certainly
heard the horses, but he doesn’t move. He is staring with a vacant look into
the fire. He stands up when we arrive. I watch his face. I
know it is quite impossible for him to be as untroubled as he seems. I wonder
what he is really thinking. I think of all the
men I have seen hanged. Now, it’s Mike’s turn. Mike is silent. He
keeps his eyes on our faces. No words, we are moving like in a nightmare.
Noises, but not a word. Hector is in front
of Mike. He lands him a punch that would kill an ox. The blow knocks the wind
out of Mike and he bends. A second punch hits his face. He opens his mouth
and blood begins to run from is nose. Hector rams his right knee into Mike’s
nuts. Mike screams. He falls. Hector and two more
men undress him, quickly. Mike is naked, now. I look at his hairy body and I
shudder. They force him in
position, four legged, and Hector opens his trousers. His huge cock is stiff.
He looks at Mike’s ass and he laughs. He is unusually
large and Mike is tight and dry. In fact, he hasn’t been fucked by a man for
many years. Hector forces his way into him roughly. He grips his large hairy
buttocks and he pushes his turgid shaft into Mike’s asshole. He rapes him all
the way to the hilt, thrusting deep until his entire cock is inside Mike’s
ass. I look at Mike’s
face. There is a grimace of pain. Hector grunts, Mike moans. Nobody speaks: words
seem to be forbidden in this dark night. Mike is going to
die. And before dying, this man who was always a top, will go far down. The strong man who
is fucking him is gleefully intent on his task. The pleasure it brings him is
obvious. Mike’s pain too. It’s a long time
before the task is done. Hector looks at his cock. Shit on the dickhead. Cum.
Blood. Now he is in front
of Mike. - Clean it,
son-of-bitch! The first words,
like a spell breaking. Men begin to laugh, to incite Mike to clean Hector’s
cock. Mike nods, more to
himself than to Hector. He takes the man’s cock into his mouth and he begins
to lick it, cleaning it completely. He is moving slowly, but he is
determined. He knows he is not a man anymore. The second one is
Lou. He begins to fuck Mike while he is still cleaning Hector’s cock. One
after the other, they fuck Mike and then he cleans their cocks. The men sit
in easy attitudes awaiting their turn. Some have their backs to the firing. I
look at their bare asses, at their big cocks. I am in a highly
euphoric state. My cock is hard enough to split, but I am the last. I chose
so. I couldn’t have been the first. Mike was a man, my man. But now he is
just an ass to fuck. And a mouth, too: some of the men face-fuck Mike,
filling his mouth with their large cocks and their cum. The men piss into his
mouth and then they drink and piss again. Some piss on his head. Finally, it’s my
turn. It’s good fucking this man who is going to die, who is waiting for
death, craving for death. After fucking him, I make him taste his own blood
and shit, my cum. It is almost dawn.
The early morning sky is deep blue. Everything is still. The only sound is
the song of a bird in the darkness. A faint breeze is blowing. We spent the
night fucking Mike. Now we are tired. There is a feeling both of tenseness
and exhaustion. Now. Now. My cock
is stiffening again. Many of us have hard cocks. The fire is
extinguished, but the sun is rising over the mountains: they are very vivid
beneath the awakening sky and the horizon beyond them is beginning to flame.
I look at Mike, who is standing, now, while Hector is tying his hands behind
his back. His face is dirty:
blood, cum, piss, shit. His expression is intent; there is a new light in his
eyes. Lou and Fred
prepare the noose. I take it and I put it around Mike’s neck, with a great
solicitude, almost with tenderness. I cast the slack
rope over a high branch of a tree. Hector lifts Mike in his arms and Lou ties
the rope around the trunk of the tree. I am just behind
Mike. I look at the slight rise and fall of Mike’s chest, which creates an
intermittent pressure against Hector’s chest Hector laughs. - Give us a good
show on your way to hell, asshole! His words are the
last. He broke the spell and now he is creating it again: nobody says a word, And while he says
so, he puts one finger deep into Mike’s ass. Then he takes it out, looks at
it, cleans it on Mike’s mouth and let Mike’s drop, while we are laughing. We all watch him.
We know he is going to die by strangulation, a slow and agonising death. I look at his
strong, beautiful body, at the hair covering his chest and belly. I can see
he is still breathing, but soon there is no more air entering his lungs. He begins to dance.
We watch his strong, hairy legs kicking, moving fast. A wave of laughter
sweeps the men, but nobody says a word. His legs are drawn
up twice and his chest heaves. His mouth is drooling. He is sweating. He is writhing in
pain. I watch the hanging, gleaming body. He is struggling hard, but it’s
useless. I feel his pain. I
almost feel the rope burning his Adam’s apple. His face is
becoming engorged and it is turning almost blue. I can see blood marks on his
cheeks and in his eyes. His movements become slower and now he is still, but
when Hector approaches and he begins to crush his nuts, Mike’s legs move
again. He didn’t shoot his
load, but now he is emptying his bladder, his piss soaking into the dirt
beneath the tree. Shit, blood and cum drip from his asshole. And finally he
becomes motionless, save for his quivering feet. It is finished,
now. Mike is dead. I look at the
corpse. A messy affair, as Mike liked it. I like it, too. We let him
swinging. We go away, silent. In the late
afternoon I am riding towards the camp. The sun is hot. I am sweating. I reach
the place where we hanged Mike. I look at Mike’s
hairy body. It is still. He stinks. Shit and
death. Lots of flies, covering the corpse, everywhere. Hector and three
men arrive. No need of words. I
begin to undress and soon I am four-legged on the dirt. I know I am under
sentence of death: Mike organized everything, as I asked him. My hanging is
his last hanging. They fuck me, my
ass and my mouth, slowly. They are not in a hurry. I drink their piss. When
they have ended with this, I stand up. I look at the tree from where Mike’s
body hangs. For an instant a
wretched chill of sweat is upon me at the thought that I am going to hang
from this same tree. Yet gradually I muster force to face what is going to
happen, what I asked for. I look at the noose
the men are preparing: it is thicker and larger than I expected. A deadly
noose. Hector ties my hands behind my back and then he pushes me forward,
toward my doom. I submit passively
to Hector’s directing strength. Now I am in his strong arms, while Paul is
tying the rope at the tree trunk and Sam is tightening the noose around my
neck. The rope is rough. My cock is pressed against Hector’s chest and the
feeling sends a shiver up my spine. It is hard in anticipation of the coming
end. I waited for it, for many years. I look at the men.
It seems to me that I see everything: each leaf of the tree is bold and
clear. I am aware of every change in the hot air, in the smoke from a cigar
curling slowly, in the heavy smells from Mike’s corpse. The brown trunk and
the branches of the tree show each roughness of their surfaces. Every fly on
Mike’s face, cocks and nuts is a black shining diamond. And the men around
me, with their sweating faces. My mind takes an impression of everything. When Hector drops
me, they burst into cheering: it’s their last hanging. The tight noose
grabs my throat, shutting off all access to air. I struggle with the bindings
on my wrists, but they have tied them well and every movement tightens the
noose. My throat is crushed by the rough hemp and the pain is strong. I feel the weight
of my feet in the air, pulling downward. I catch occasional glimpses of
visages that are looking at me. These faces express in their lines lust and
pleasure. I manage to breathe once and then it is not possible anymore. My
legs begin to move, as I futilely try to reach the distant ground. I can see the men laughing at me,
looking at my final dance. I feel my tongue growing in my
mouth. Thousands of needles are piercing my neck. My lungs are burning. As I spin
around, I see Mike’s limp body. My mind shifts to my throbbing cock. I shoot
my last load. I feel it trickle down my cock. I am in pain, I am in ecstasy.
My last sight is of Hector approaching, a hand on his cock and a smile on his
face, while my bladder releases. Then all becomes darkness. |
