THE INTERVIEW
By April

Interviewer: “So April, finally we meet.”

April: “Yes, you said you understood the secrecy.”

Interviewer: “Yes April, I understand and I’m pleased you took this time. Your understanding of this western tradition is astounding. In your reply to my search for someone knowledgeable in this tradition--frankly I’m a little skeptical. You say you’ve never been out of the country, but have seen the tradition more than twenty times?”

April: “It’s called hanging.”

Interviewer: Looking embarrassed. “Yes, hanging, and you’ve seen more than twenty hangings?”

April: “You wanted to do a story about hanging. Hangmen are kind of hard to find these days. Especially for interviews.

Interviewer: You’re indicating with that statement that you are a hangman?

April: “I suppose that term is good for either sex.”

Interviewer: You’re dressed in a white robe and hood. I know it’s to hide your identification, but is that what a hangman would wear?

April: “It’s what I wear.”

Interviewer: April, I want to ask you outright. Have you ever hung anyone?

April: “It’s hanged. Do you mind if I call you by your first name Ms. Collier?”

Interviewer: “Not at all, it’s Jan.”

April: “Jan, I don’t think you would be here if you didn’t think I had not somehow been involved with actual hangings in one way or another. Am I correct to assume that much? Jan nodded. Let’s get right to the point. I have a partner--it’s kind of hard to do this thing alone. Together we’ve hanged twenty-two women.”

Jan: “You don’t find this hard to talk about? I mean the social stigma. It’s not exactly table talk.”

April: “I love hanging. It’s a private thing that I share with my partner. What words can I use to describe it--exciting, exhilarating; it kind of turns my insides to jelly. Juices flow in a big way.”

Jan a little uneasy: “Tell me about a typical hanging.”

April: “There are no typical hangings. All are unique; all are wonderful.”

Jan: “I think I need to use the bathroom.”

April: “You alright? Where were we? A typical hanging. All hangings are different. Necks come in all sizes and shapes, as do bodies. Weights vary which is a major factor.”

Jan: “How so?”

April: “It takes eleven-hundred and sixty foot-pounds the break the average neck. The drop has to be calculated. How much do you weigh Jan?”

Jan: “Me! About 125 I suppose.”

April: “Eleven-hundred and sixty foot pounds divided by a hundred and twenty five pounds is-let’s see, about nine feet”

Jan: “Nine feet!” That seems like a long way!”

April: “There are variables that have to be taken into consideration. Your neck is not very muscular and it’s slightly longer than the average neck. Actually quite perfect. Without further examination, my guess would be a drop of eight feet would snap your neck.”

Jan: “Oh my God, and what if it didn’t snap? Would that be what’s called a bungled hanging?”

April: “Jan, there are no bungled hangings. Drops are just something we do sometimes. My partner for instance likes hangings with little or no drop. It’s kind of like--if it’s a long neck, little or no drop is good. The shorter or muscular neck just calls out to be stretched. And Jan, we love to stretch necks; about one a week.”

Jan: “How did this start, this love affair with hanging?”

April: “Actually from my mother, but it’s not what you think. My brother and I had gotten rabbits for Easter and before long we had a barn full. One day my mother took me out there and we caught one. She told me her mother had given her the secret to making it taste especially good. She put a clothes line around its neck and hung the other end from a nail. She told me we would come back and get it in an hour. I wanted to watch, but she said that’s not why we hung it. The initial panic and finally the pain of being hanged releases large amounts of adrenaline and flavors the meat. I found it really exciting and it was just our little secret. After that I prepared all the rabbits.”

Jan: “I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m beginning to feel a little flushed. Do you use regular rope to hang a person?

April: “We’ve used kevlar and nylon and you wouldn’t understand this, but they don’t creak. Hemp rope creaks. Hanging is a romantic thing and very nostalgic. A long rope is better than a short rope because it swings and twists more. Sometimes I’ll put a couple twists in before fitting the noose.”

Jan: “You make this sound so ordinary--so every day.”

April: “Well, once a week anyway.

Jan: “I’m feeling a little pressure in my chest. Do you suppose we could go for a walk?”

April: “Are you ready to see the gallows?

Jan: “Yes.”

April pushed the table away and removed the large Persian rug that covered the trap door. From the ceiling a steel cable dropped over the trap and danced up and down like a slinky. It was straight until it was within about eight feet from the floor at which point about six coils that looked like a cork screw ended in a leather covered loop. About six inches up from the loop a bulbous device was fit snug around the cable. Jan’s frozen stare was broken by April’s voice.

April: “Come. This is the latest technology. Let me show you. This loop goes over the head like this and this little device is slid down to take the place of the traditional coils.”

Jan: “Please take it off, I’m really uncomfortable!”

April: “No, wait just a minute, You need to know what this feels like. Give me your hands.”

April quickly snapped handcuffs around each wrist.

Jan: “I don’t think I can stand here! I think I’m going to pee!”

April: “Would you like to see a hanging Jan?”

Jan: “Not me please!”

April: “Would you like to see a hanging Jan?”

Jan: “Yes! Yes I would. Please don’t hang me! I would like to see a hanging!”

April: “Could you hang someone Jan?”

Jan: “Yes, I could hang someone. Please take this off!”

April: “Dean, bring her in. Jan, this is my partner and this little lady is the one you are going to hang. She looks sweet, but you can believe me when I tell she is not.”

The girl looked to be about seventeen, well proportioned in tight Levi’s and sweater. Above her left sneaker was a red and black swastika and she had barbed wire tattoos around her wrists. Dean quickly covered with a leather strap. Her neck was long but muscular and her long blonde hair was done in two ponytails making her look more like a buxom fourteen-year old. April removed Jan’s handcuffs and Jan quickly fought off the noose.

April: “Jan, go ahead and noose Hitler here. The thick leather part goes to the right and the nubbin behind her left ear and don’t pay attention to what she’s saying. Good Jan, now here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to push this button and the trap is going to open. She’s going to drop eight and a half feet. When the cable reaches the end it will straighten out and the nubbin will force her head to the opposite side. Her neck will break, hopefully we’ll be able to hear it. Hitler here is our first to with this kind of rig. It’s up to you Jan.”

Jan was really wrapped up in the moment and pushed the button without hesitation. We watched Hitler fall through the trap door and when the loops in the cable went completely straight there was a solid thud. There was no stretch to the cable, but the elasticity in her neck made her bounce. The snap of her neck was loud and a long groan followed. We descended the stair so we could watch the finish close up.

Jan: “Her neck did stretch!”

April: “They always stretch. I would say this was about the max though. She’s kicking a lot, but it’s just reflex and you can see the pulsing in her neck. I can also see that the noose slipped out of position a little. That’s why her chin is jutting upwards. It makes her neck look just that much longer.”

After Hitler was down to just a slow swing.

April: “I think I forgot to mention something to you about hanging Jan. Sexual passion. It’s something my partner here and I have very much in common. You’re going to have to excuse us for awhile because I know his balls are about to explode.”

Jan watched Hitler swing and drank champagne for the next two hours. She didn’t wonder at all what April was up to. She could feel the wetness in her own panties. She studied the hanged form in front of her and wondered how most people in her same situation would feel. Disgust, guilt? Looking into the glassy eyes, the up-turned breasts, the neck stretched long, the toes of her sneakers nearly brushing the carpet, her useless hands behind her arched back. What an exquisite, most wonderful experience.

April and Dean appeared looking fresh and dressed in matching white shorts and polo shirts.

Jan: “My God, you’re brother and sister!”

April: “Twins actually. I’m the oldest.”

Jan: “You’re stunning and Dean is very handsome.”

April: I thought I would grille rabbit for dinner. You can rustle one up if you like Jan and walk around outside for an hour or so. The exercise will do you some good. Do you remember the secret?”

Jan: “I’ll try. Yes, I know the secret. I’d like to do it.”

Dinner was served a few hours later outside on the deck. Initially Jan just picked at her rabbit but finally ended up eating two pieces. April mentioned that it was the first time she had seen a rabbit with eight legs.

April: “Jan, you wanted to know about the western tradition of hanging. Mostly it was done by horseback. You’ve seen it in movies, the horse rides off leaving the rider to hang. The hanged person’s neck was rarely broken and if a saddle wasn’t used the person to be hanged just slid off the back and swung in a wide arc. Sometimes there was hardly a jerk and the person would hang just off the ground; lot’s of motion with the swinging and all. We’ve never tried it, but there is a perfect place in the barn. I’ll show you after a bit.”

Jan: “The rabbit is delicious. I was just wondering how I would prepare it at home.”

April: “I know you’ll think of something, but right now I want you to try on some western wear. I laid it out on the guest bed. I thought we might go for a ride later.”

April to Dean: “Is everything ready dear one?”

Jan appeared shortly wearing a full cotton skirt with half a dozen petticoats and a ruffled top worn off the shoulder. She looked like a Spanish dancer and dance she soon would. Dean brought up two horses and helped Jan up on the back of one which started walking to the barn. He gave April a boost and she followed Jan. Dean walked to the barn and closed the door behind them. Jan didn’t see it right away; the noose hanging down from thirty feet above to about six feet off the dirt floor. Dean reached up for her hand and when she extended it out to him he looped a leather strap around it and tossed the loose end over to April. It only took April a couple seconds to secure Jan’s hands behind her back. It was then that Jan saw the noose hanging down right in the middle of the barn.

Jan: “You’re going to hang me?”

April: “Yes, we’re going to hang you. My dear brother has been chomping at the bit, so to speak, to watch your lovely dance.”

Jan: “Why?”

April: “Because you have a nice neck. You have pretty legs and nice breasts. We want to hang you. You know what, my pants are getting wet just thinking about it. Dean says you’ll hang for forty minutes. I hope he’s right.

Dean handed April the noose and April pushed it over Jan’s head. It was loose on her neck and had been wrapped with soft suede. It was made not to slip. Jan’s horse took a step and she screamed for it to stop. Her face was red and she was panting as the horse took another step.

Jan: “No horsie. Whoa! Whoa! STOP!

The horse had the rope stretched out about as far as it would go and stopped at which point Dean slapped it on the rump.

April: “Thanks Bro. I was just getting ready to do it myself.”

The horse reared and Jan slid over his rump.

Jan: “NOOOOOO!”

Jan started kicking before the rope made a complete arc. Her toes were about eight inches off the dirt floor and as she went by she tried to stretch them down in a vain attempt to take the weight off her neck. She tried to pull her knees to her chest, again and again, but it just made the arc more erratic, and she began to rotate her head. When the coils worked their way under her chin she stopped struggling for a brief moment, but as gravity continued it’s pull against the soft flesh of her neck she began to fight again.

April: “This is better than I thought and that’s doing something. It’s been five minutes. Do you have a plug, or do we let it go?”

Dean: “I’ve got it. A couple more minutes.”

April: “Alright, a couple minutes. She’s like wildcat. I really don’t want to interfere, but I’m going to stop the swinging and take her panties off.”

With the swinging abated and the rope twisting slowly Jan began to jerk her neck and kick down instead of out, as white hot shots of pain seared her slowly stretching neck. It was a dance of dances and she didn’t respond when Dean lifted the back of her dress and pushed the anal plug past the sphincter. The slightly longer than necessary insertion gave indication that the old stall warning indicator was working; puckering and pulsing. Trying to send a signal something was wrong. Dean usually installed the plug before the hangings. It’s something that was rarely discussed.

April: “If the rope works it’s way under her throat it’s over and it’s only been thirteen minutes. If you can lift her up for a second, I’ll put the coils under her chin. Maybe they’ll stay there for awhile.”

Just as the decision was made to move the noose, Jan kicked and shook her head violently. The now very loose noose shifted, it’s high coils settled above her right ear and remained fixed for the rest of the hanging which lasted for about another twelve minutes. She had hung still for almost five minutes before a putting on a wild fury of antics that lasted a couple minutes after which she shuddered and shook for another two minutes.

April was squeezing the last from Dean’s second ejaculation with powerful vaginal muscles strengthened with kegel exercises; this, a suggestion from her late mother when she got her first period.

April: “Wasn’t the hanging exceptional? I’m going to have weak knees for days. Who do you suppose she was?”

Dean: “Beyond all expectations. I don’t know who she was, I just know who she wasn’t. She wasn’t a writer. And I think she was dangerous. I also think we ought to buy a large motor home, put this place on the market and go build a place of our own. We’re eighteen years old and have almost twenty-five million dollars."

April: “Not tonight though, okay?”

Copyright by Michelle (2002).

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