IT RUNS IN THE FAMILY
I didn't think my mom was home so I got the jar of Vaseline from the medicine cabinet and headed for my room. In a few minutes I had an erection, was pulling it back and forth and was so engrossed with the thought that any second a sticky white juice was going to squirt out with the desired tingling sensation that I didn't hear my mom open the door. It couldn't have been more than a second or so but when I turned around with my penis spitting uncontrollably and saw my mom and my heart stopped; I quit breathing.
"MOM!"
She said, "Vaseline?" and closed the door behind her.
I hid out for two hours with my shame before I had the nerve to venture out. The door to my mother's room was open and she was lying on the bed clad in a terrycloth robe. I tapped on the door.
"Mom?"
"Yes Dear? Come in." She patted the bed beside her.
"Here. Lie down."
"Mom, I don't know what to say. I'm really embarrassed."
"Show me."
"What? My penis?"
"Yes, you used to show me all the time. You always wanted me to make sure it was alright. Do you remember?"
"Yeah, but that was a long time ago."
"Show me. Take off your jeans and lie beside me."
I took off my jeans and jockey shorts and sat on the bed.
"Lie back here."
Her voice was soothing and gentle and as I reclined back on the pillow she started to massage my testicles. It was a wonderful feeling and after a few minutes she gripped my penis in her hand and squeezed. It jumped in size and at which point she pulled her robe aside and revealed a tremendous mound of springy pubic hair. I started getting really scared when she put my hand on it. My erection went down and I started trembling.
She guided my hand between her legs and I felt the wet inner tissues. She was soft and gentle as she gave me her breast.
"Do you remember this?"
I sucked on her hard nipple and felt immediately at ease; my erection returned and she coaxed me on top of her. She held my penis and guided it to her. At the moment of entry the uncontrollable pulsing started and she squeezed it gently until the pulsing stopped. I collapsed on top of her and cried.
"It's alright Dear. Just try and relax a bit."
"Is there something wrong with me?"
"Not that I can see. It just takes a little bit of practice and learning. I'm sorry I haven't taught you more. Let's start over. I'll get a damp cloth and clean you up."
It was warm and felt good as she wrapped the cloth around my penis, gently wiping away the sticky fluid.
"I would say you've grown some since I last did this. Ten years ago when you were five?"
"About that."
She continued until the warmth left the rag after which she wiped the glistening pearls from her own pubic hair. She returned to caressing my penis and I worked up the nerve to explore the wetness between her legs. It was slippery and had a sweet taste when I put a finger to my lips. My penis was hard again and we started over.
"Just relax. If you start to come let me know and pull out. I'll squeeze the head and you'll stop. We'll have tiger trained before you know it."
I rolled on top of her and she guided tiger to the wet spot between her legs. It slipped in and I could feel a strong contraction like she was trying to hold me from pulling it out.
"Okay Dear, in and out slowly. When you've pulled it out far enough I'll squeeze and you push it in again."
"It's wonderful. I'm going to come again!"
"Pull it out."
I pulled it out and she squeezed the head so hard it hurt. After a few seconds she put it back and I started again. A few pumps later I thought I was going to come again and this time she squeezed the head with both hands for about ten seconds.
"Okay Dear, slip it back in and hold it as long as you can."
I don't know what happened, but I felt in control and began to get a rhythm that mom followed with little sounds of ugh-ugh.
She came quickly after that and moaned as she contracted her muscles like a milking machine. I came soon after in urgent pulses before collapsing on top of her again.
We sat down and talked about what we had done. She offered me Champagne and the bubbles made me talk. We had been best friends for years. She had never made a serious effort to hide herself and I did remember running to her with every pee-pee problem I had. She would look at it, hold it and tell me things were just fine. Long after I was off breast milk I would lie next to her when she pretended to sleep and rub her breasts. Sometimes if they weren't covered I would suck a nipple and feel it swell up and get hard. She always pretended to awaken slowly, giving me plenty of time to scamper off.
There were no men in her life and she made no excuses that she had never been married. She was thirty-three, beautiful, smart and very rich, which always made me wonder why she worked for the World Union.
I asked her and she told me she would tell me later. In the mean time I gained sexual prowess under her exacting tutelage and the sexual experiences we shared were a wonderful part of life. I tried to go down on her once but she told me it was something we couldn't do. I told her I needed to and it's the first time she got short with me. "You're just going to have to suck your finger until you have a girlfriend."
"A girlfriend? I'm not going to have a girlfriend."
"Of course you will and before you start wiggling tiger at her I want to meet her and have a blood test. It's nonnegotiable. Do you understand that?"
My mother was thirty-five, I turned eighteen.
We drank beer from frosted glasses and she told me the story.
She and a friend had hanged a lady about a year before I was born; put her on a horse and hanged her. I asked the obvious questions. Was she wanted for murder? Why did she do it? Did she use to be a lesbian? The whole story came out. When Margaret had given her a hundred-thousand dollars she wondered if it was partly to keep her quiet, but it wasn't long before she realized Margaret loved her and she felt sincerely close. The money soon turned into two million dollars with the purchase of a penny stock that went wild.
She thought a lot about the hanging and the more she thought about it the more the memory came back as pleasurable. It got more vivid and more pleasurable. She remembered her conversation with Margaret about there being more to the hanging than met the eye and decided to renew the acquaintance.
She was invited to the large Wyoming ranch, survived a month of celebration where one day just met the next with constant Bar-B-queue's, champagne and Martini's with olives. Margaret showed her some videos and gave her the education she wanted and she left the ranch ten months later with her one month old son.
A year later she got a strange questionnaire by certified mail with no return address, which she completed and promptly returned. Six months later a similar one arrived, which she gave the same prompt attention as the first. Two years went by and she received a certified letter asking if she was available for an interview in Switzerland. Her response to answers during the interview prompted a trip to the Philippines where she witnessed the hanging of six men and six women over a three-day period. She flew home and heard nothing more for almost a year.
The door-bell rang and Rachel answered to find a man dressed in a World Union uniform. He asked her for identification before handing her a plain Manila envelope. The uniformed man said he would wait for an answer. Rachel read the form. It was a request for Rachel to perform the executions of two persons guilty of crimes against the Union. The method of execution would be hanging and she would be paid sixteen hundred dollars plus expenses.
Paid? She never dreamed she would be paid and she had no idea why she was contacted to begin with. She knew it wasn't fate and she knew, someday she'd find out.
Ten days later Rachel acted as executioner for two men caught with ten kilos of raw opium. It was a long drop hanging and both men hung together. It was flawless in performance and she was asked to stay in the islands for another week to hang six women who were being sent from the north.
Rachel decided to do the hangings one at a time, and a few minutes apart so she could make adjustments if needed. She would hood the women so they would not be able to see the women hanged before them. Rachel would visit their cells tonight, size them up and give them an idea of what would happen.
They were a strange bunch, lot's of makeup and overdressed in tight silk skirts, lace bras and high heels. All were in the one-hundred-thirty to fifty-pound range, which would mean drops of about eight feet if she averaged. She explained to them that hanging was quick and painless and to make it easier she would put hoods over their heads so they wouldn't have to see the nooses. The only response was silence.
Rachel stayed up all night and at six a.m. the nooses were ready and waiting over the trap doors. Rachel was standing with the first noose in hand when Jennifer was brought in. She wasted no time placing it over the hood and with a quick tug, tightened the noose, stepped away and pulled the release lever. Joan was next and it was just as quick. Sally fought, but was no problem for the big guard. Rachel noosed her and adjusted the position of the coil. The motion of the other two ropes already extending through the open traps distracted her momentarily and her hand slid across what felt an Adam's apple. She hesitated a few seconds before she pulled the lever.
When Denise shuffled in and was positioned over the fourth trap Rachel lifted her knee to Denise's crotch. Denise had an instant move-back reaction when pressure was put on her balls. Rachel was enraged and noosed her without the slightest finesse and pulled the lever.
Fucking she-males and she hadn't caught it. She had the next two brought in at the same time, pulled both levers together and pondered while a long hour passed.
Rachel was about to board in Manila for her flight home when a distinguished man in a gray suit handed her an envelope.
"It went as expected?"
"Yes, but I'm going to let you off this time."
"How so?"
"Well, I did you an unexpected favor and swung necks and dicks."
"Oh Dear my girl. We're going to get along famously."
Mom was really smashed when she finished the story. I carried her to bed, undressed her and spread her legs. She wasn't aware that she moaned long and loud when I went down on her.
The nooses lined up perfectly, each a carbon copy of the other. Ten nooses hung over the centers of ten trap doors. Each perfect teardrop was about ten inches across and sixteen inches off the floor. They looked big with ten coils of three-quarter inch hemp rope.
Each noose had a weathered gray cast to the natural brown color from a process developed for hanging hemp. Thirty-foot lengths of hemp would be boiled in hot soapy water and weighted with three-hundred pound concrete blocks to remove all stretch. Next in the process the hanging hemp would be soaked in a hot liquid bath of thin candle paraffin and hung in a solar oven until most of the paraffin dripped from the end. The lengths would then be shipped in four-foot diameter fiber hogs heads.
My mother hanged only women for the World Union. Trials were private, executions were private and all were by hanging. Today she told me there would be thirty-four. After she explained things in detail I began to get excited.
It was going to be a long day. After the traps were sprung the bodies were required to hang for one hour. They would be cut down after and the procedure repeated. The heavier women would be hanged first. All drops would be short; three to four feet. Hanging ten at a time meant there would be some variables as all ropes in a set were placed at the same drop height. Once the hangings started, they would continue nonstop. The heights of the women varied, but they were all Japanese and roughly Five foot three inches. Slight variations would not be compensated.
The first ten women condemned to be hanged by the neck were led into the execution room wearing black hoods and hands secured behind their backs. Each was placed over a trap door. My mother didn't wear a hood or anything sinister; just a dark business suit, white gloves and practical shoes.
Hoods were removed, necks noosed and a simple elastic blindfold slipped over the eyes. All wore white pullover shirts with no collar and below the knee togs cinched at the waste with a drawstring. Without exception all balked when noosed and tried to back away from the big coil when it was positioned.
My job was to pull the levers as we went down the line Mom would make little adjustments, remove the blindfold and nod to me. The first one dropped and groaned as the rope became taught. The trap was noisy when it opened and the other nine to be hanged whimpered and two went to their knees. We went down the line until all traps had been sprung. Dark heads bobbled around and little feet danced freely. Terrified eyes stared wide or were closed tightly with jaws clenching against the bite of the rope.
There was so much to watch all at once that I was overwhelmed. My mother's serious face belied her excitement as she paced the line of quivering, wobbling ropes. I was happy she had the foresight to put a loose handkerchief in by jockey shorts. I didn't ejaculate as such, but my penis was dripping.
Several of the women moaned and fought hard against the rope. Some of the struggles were really violent, foaming at the mouth, guttural sounds and some minor kicking went on for about twenty minutes, but after thirty minutes all was quiet. The ropes twisted slowly showing darkened faces and fat tongues. I was weak from excitement and watched the document crew when they came in to photograph the hanged faces. At sixty minutes the bodies were cut down and lowered to the floor below. Mom and I started on the ropes for set two.
The nooses we tied the evening before, so it was just a matter of removing the old and replacing with the new. These hung neatly twelve inches above the traps.
"It'll take a little longer, but we're going to do this a little different. As hangman, I can make certain decisions. This is the way I usually do it, but I wanted to get the strong ones out of the way"
When the first women was handed over to us, mom took off her hood. She saw the big nooses hanging over the traps and struggled violently to get away. Together we got her over to the first trap and mom noosed her. She swung her head violently in all directions and mom nodded. The noisy trap opened and the woman dropped, kicking and screaming. When she came to a stop with a thud, the screaming stopped.
Number two also fought like a cat as we took her to the next trap. Mom noosed her and as she watched the noisy commotion next to her, nodded again. With the excitement of pulling the lever I realized that I had been missing a lot; the beauty of some of the faces, the long slender necks and breasts that quivered with heavy breathing.
When number eight came to the end of her drop and the big coils slapped her head to the side there was an audible snap. She hung limp except for an occasional twitch. Mom said her neck broke. It had been a completely painless hanging, but the pretty thing with the noticeably longer neck would still hang on for another twenty minutes.
We were down to the last four. They were escorted into the gallows room in full-length body hoods. By a prearranged plan we led the shuffling fore-some past the ten traps into an open, well lit room. A large traditional looking gallows stood before me with four nooses, each with seven coils hanging down before a cantilever trap. Large canvas bags swung gently from each, taking the stretch out of the rope.
"The bags have a quick release. And don't let one fall on you. I'll lead these four up the steps and show you how to do the ropes after I reset the trap."
The four women stood quietly while mom showed me how to prepare them for a long drop hanging. She had already adjusted the ropes to the right length for a drop of ten feet four inches. She told me it was a little risky because she had only allowed about a six-percent safety factor. If their necks weren't strong enough to take the drop, their heads would come off and this was a gallows, not a guillotine.
The excess rope was coiled above the noose and tied with a piece of sisal. The noose was left free to dangle at about chest height. There was more than one reason for this. The rope would not interfere with the drop, it was handy for easy placement and the terror factor when it was seen by those to be hanged was enormous.
The four nooses swayed gently before the four hooded figures. Mom had tied their ankles in anticipation of their seeing the nooses. She had also tied their arms behind their backs above their elbows. Mom said it made their tits stick out and their necks stick up.
We removed the body hoods and what stood before me were four beautiful women. They were blind folded and I couldn't see their eyes, but they had soft facial features, and slinky figures. When I removed the blind fold from the first one she made little reaction to the noose. Mom nodded for me to put it on. I pulled her long hair through the noose and fitted it loosely, letting the coils stick out in front. She was trembling so much that the noose was bouncing. The other three were terrified at the noose and fought by rotating their heads wildly to prevent the noose going over.
Mom readjusted the nooses.
"Like this." She said, snuging the nooses just so. "Right behind the ear."
All four were silent and all were swaying. They were looking nervously around and seemed confused when we left them alone on the scaffold. Mom and I looked up and a second later a mechanical timer pulled the lock pins.
The four girls fell through the air as gracefully as ballet dancers and bounced like they had been hanged with bungee cords when the ropes came tight. It was noisy wrenching bounce that started the bodies swinging in random orbits. All their necks snapped in unison with a sound that Mom said was orchestral. Their necks were really long and their heads were at a very unnatural ninety-degree angle to the torso. The ropes dug deeply into the right, which was now the bottom of their necks making the noose and coils almost straight. Four pairs of liquid eyes looked out from darkening faces. Legs and arms twitched and broken necks began to exhibit massive bruising. Mom said another two or three more inches would have ruined it.
Champagne was in sort supply, but we drank cold Saiki while we watched them hang for the required hour. Mom documented their hanged faces with the digital camera and took my hand.
"There's no memory in being hanged. No matter how bad the pain of the noose is as it pulls against the flesh, even when it's pulled and stretched hard with a drop. There is no memory. It's important that you remember that. I've hanged women who I know were in agonizing pain and I can imagine some of the thoughts that go through a hanging woman's mind. Initially it's the fear of the rope. Next is the sheer panic when the noose begins it's hard pull. After that I'm sure it must be like white-hot pokers as the tissue starts to tear and tendons pull from the violent kicking and neck- twisting during the struggle. The sharp spike of searing pain a second before is never remembered after the one a second to come. I'm just doing a job for the World Union and so what if I like it. And how I do like it."
"Mom, you really are pretty when you get on your soap box"
"Think you could do my job?"
"Mom, after this I don't think I could do anything else."
Copyright by Michelle (2002).