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boot·lick  (btlk) v. boot·licked, boot·lick·ing, boot·licks

v.tr.

To behave toward in a servile or obsequious manner

v.intr.

To behave in a servile or obsequious manner.

HANGING STORY

 

The day had finally arrived. I could not believe it. Soon it would be over. I squirmed around on the mattress unable to stop moving. The sheet was wet from my sweat and my nerves were shot. I was excited though and could not stop the near constant erections, which started when I had arrived here. My approaching end filled me with fear and sexual excitement.

 

I lay on the cot and tried to relax. The pleasure of the dream I had been having lingered in my mind and was part of the reason for my erection. The guy in my dream was gorgeous. He was built like a rock, very tall, and had appeared from nowhere as happens in dreams. A stud dressed in a slick uniform of tight black leather pants with a huge bulging crotch. He was wearing a black hood and had highly polished black boots. He was my executioner and he started to caress my naked body everywhere. I had dropped to my knees as I ached to lick his boots and beg that he not hang me, craved to release the throbbing bulge from his pants, and take his meat down my throat. I wanted to give him pleasure in return for my life.

 

My tongue ran up the leather shaft of his right boot and then moved up to his crotch. The deep smell of leather mixed with the heat of his manhood filling my nostrils with an intoxicating aroma. I straightened my back and moved my waist forward so that my hard cock head was between his legs. I touched my tongue to his hard abs and then the stud’s hands closed around my throat and squeezed hard. He held my head into his stomach. I tried to pull back as I could not breathe. I struggled and felt my cock now rock hard press between his leather boots as he moved his legs closer together in front of me. Intense pleasure radiated up from my loins and I could feel pre-cum oozing from my piss slit. My head tilted back a little under the pressure of his strangle hold. I looked up as I felt a dizzy rush of euphoria and then panic. I could not breathe and then what I saw stunned me. I could see his eyes through holes in the hood and they drilled into me with a look of pleasure. He was not going to give me a reprieve. I awakened then, breathing hard and covered in sweat. My cock was dripping pre-cum. I was scared, but excited. The eyes of the stud reminded me of a man I had once been with. I dreamed of him often.

 

I sat up and put my bare feet on the cold concrete floor. The sun was just rising and light was beginning to shine into the window in the room just beyond the bars of my prison cell. I stood up, my naked body sore from being cramped in this cell for days. I walked to the toilet and relieved myself. My penis stayed semi-hard as I pissed into the bowl with force.

 

I pulled on my orange prison overalls and secured the velcro tabs up the front. My penis began to harden again as it rubbed against the coarse uniform fabric. My white socks and black leather prison work boots were under the cot and I retrieved them. I put on the boots and slowly laced them. The leather was worn and scuffed and I liked the supple feel and rubbed my hands on them after I tied the laces.

 

I looked around the cell. It had been my world for the last five days. My last five days. The bare gray concrete of the walls and the dark gray steel bars made it a harsh and sterile place. The lighting came from bare bulbs on the high ceiling. This cell was smaller than the one I had been in before. It was called the death watch cell.

 

It was quiet. The cell that I was in formed the back of a rectangular room. The room was fairly long. There were no furnishings and it contained a small window through which the morning light was beginning to shine. At the opposite end of the room from the cell were a steel door and another window. The window was reflective glass and I knew that a guard was watching me through the window from the opposite side.

 

I could see myself in the mirrored glass. I was thin and hard. The orange overalls were a cut a little too short in the legs for my medium height. They were also too tight on me and it accentuated my muscles. I read the lettering stenciled on the chest of my overalls, the letters in reverse in the mirror. The words on the right read Carmenio, Anthony Vincent and on the left side read DR-784-360. My name and my prison number with the DR designation. The DR stood for death row. The numbers meant nothing to me, but must have been important for the prison records.

 

My longish brown hair was a fright to see. A day’s growth of stubble was visible on my face. Normally, the guards would always keep my hair cut high and tight and my face shaved, but for the last month they had not touched my hair and only shaved my face every couple of days.

 

I looked tired. I felt tired too and old. Thirty years old, but feeling a hundred years old and knowing I would not grow any older. Other than the tired look, I knew that I still looked good even though I had suffered in prison for nearly a year. It seemed like just yesterday that I had arrived. I knew my physique was still good as I had exercised in the prison gym and in the outdoor pen for an hour nearly everyday. I ran my hands over my overalls and felt my muscles. Tight, but I had become thinner since the food was so awful and the portions small. A condemned man was not fed well.

 

I would hang this morning. Hang by the neck until dead. How had I come to be in this situation? I reflected on the past year and the time before I had been condemned. It was a year and a half ago when it all began, the events that brought me here.

 

I returned to my bunk and pulled my penis out through the velcro tabs on my overalls and began to stroke myself. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift back to the beginning. The faces of the people I had encountered: Ethan, Darrick, Sergeant Taylor, Jonathan, Corporal Santiago, and Tristan. Their beautiful faces formed in my mind and I drifted back.

 

The Beginning

 

Eighteen months ago, I was tough and hard. I had been banging around the country, picking up guys, drinking, and taking work wherever I could. I carried my few belongings in my car. I had just enough to get by. I had the all clothes I needed and probably too many, some personal items, my free weights, and even some camping gear for when I really needed to stay outside due to lack of funds for a hotel room or cheap apartment. Mostly I just tricked from place to place.

 

It was not hard to find work since many people were engaged with government services in the military or the new civilian policing force. The country had turned harsh and far too conservative for people like me. Nearly every able man was engaged in fighting the war and pushing the conservative cause.

 

I was often questioned as to why I was not serving in the military since I was in my early twenties. The mandatory requirements were hard to get around and I usually made a lame excuse that I had medical problems. The answer was met with stares of disbelief. People would see my well toned body and there would sometimes be a knowing look in their eyes. I did not dare tell them I was gay, but they likely suspected.

 

My looks were not conservative since I sported big gold pirate earrings and longish brown hair. Given how far right and fanatic the government had turned and the new laws that made homosexuals second class citizens, I had to stay low key. People conformed and dressed conservatively, kept their hair short or buzzed tight, and rarely wore jewelry. Clothing and styles that the government did not approve of had disappeared. Nearly everyone wore dark suits and dressed conservatively with a minimum of accessories.

 

I did find that I was turned on by men in uniforms with high and tight hair cuts, but did not think the look was for me. I wore my tight jeans, white t-shirt, black engineer’s boots, and black leather jacket nearly everywhere I traveled. I liked the look. It was comfortable for when I was banging around and it sent a sign that I was defiant. It also signaled to other gay guys what I was about. It worked for sex, but I had to be careful and found that law enforcement types were quick to question me with suspicion.

 

I think most people did not support the government, but were too afraid to say anything. The government used the fear of terrorism and the law to drive home their religious and right wing fanaticism. Gays were not allowed to serve in the military and were often persecuted and discriminated against with the government’s support. The laws on crime had been made even tougher. The courts had been stacked with judges who felt that justice was to be swift and the rights of the accused were to be addressed by a quick trial and punishment. If you were guilty, then you deserved to have the right to be punished. Forget about the right to fair representation and appeal. The result of course was that too many innocent people were being punished.

 

The death penalty was now at the forefront as a way to rid society of undesirable people. It was being used frequently. States, with the blessing of the courts and the government had passed laws to apply capital punishment to an expanded list of crimes. Besides murder other crimes including sex crimes, drug crimes, and other violent crimes were punishable by death. Some states had changed the method of execution to fit what the conservatives felt was a more fitting way to punish a criminal. Hanging and the use of the electric chair had returned. The government now ran many prisons. They served as training grounds for soldiers. Rumor had it that sometimes inmates were used in the training with deadly results.

 

I had not paid much attention to any of the changes, but often felt aroused when I did hear about executions in the news. I stayed low. When I needed to get some work and wanted to stay in one location for a bit, I would find a job. I even took cash for sex. I usually took office work in the day and would cruise at nights in bars. I even dealt some drugs and would occasionally lift items from a store. I would sweet talk my way into a job using a little artistic license in describing my experience. I of course would have my hair trimmed and dressed in one of a couple of suits I owned when I went for the office job interviews. I liked dressing up and would even dress with a little edge when going to interviews.

 

Given that many men were engaged in military work, women were often running the offices, and I would look for offices where I could charm them to get work. They liked my looks and I am sure if they knew I was gay, some would have been angry about my subtle hints of sexual interest. Most times I think the woman would know and felt some identification with me. I of course had to be careful and sometimes was fooled by a woman who turned out to see me for what I was and if they were a conservative type, then I hightailed away from the place.

 

I used two different identification cards to get around too. The government wanted to track everyone, but there was a huge underground market for illegal ids. The ids now carried a genetic code and underground labs were able to copy the encoded DNA data just as easily as the government. People wanted the ids since many still wanted to frequent events that the government did not approve of, but had not yet made illegal. They also liked to buy products that were not considered appropriate such as porn. The extra id was useful to conceal those activities. The id recorded everything. The “official id” would be clean. It would show activities that were sanctioned by the government and it would be used for jobs and official business. The other ids were used for everything else.

 

There was corruption in the government since with so many illegal ids circulating; the government must have known that there were not really as many people in the country as id records indicated. A check of matching DNA in two different ids told them that duplicates existed. The government used “extra ids” too to conduct covert activities. They would watch people and do so without oversight. The underground served everyone.

 

Ethan

 

I had been on the road for a few months and decided I needed cash. It was time for my next job. I rolled into a big suburban town and scoped out work. It was the job at the office that started the trouble. I got an interview and the man that interviewed me was clearly straight. He really did not look at me at all and seemed most interested in finding someone that could just do basic office work. I was hired.

 

It was a bit disappointing since I had gotten my hair trimmed and had put on a slim light gray suit with thin pinstripes, a crisp white shirt, thin black tie, bright red breast pocket hanky perfectly folded, and racy slim black leather cap-toed oxfords. I thought I looked hot in my dress, but the man did not notice my apparel.

 

The cute office boy that I was assigned to work next to did notice me. He seemed genuinely glad to have another young guy around. I noticed that no one else in the office talked to him. Other people seemed to shun him.

 

He was short and very well built, almost bull like. His blonde hair was styled in a flat top crew cut. His name was Ethan and he did not appear to be more than twenty-five years old. He smiled at me with a mouth full of glistening white teeth. He looked quite sharp in his navy blue pin stripe suit and black moc-toed oxfords. His clothes made him look more than the man his sharp boyish features allowed. There was sadness in his pretty blue eyes though.

 

We introduced ourselves and my gaydar registered his orientation. We did not talk much, but after a few days Ethan approached me. It was a Friday afternoon and he was dressed casually for work in tight black trousers that hugged his legs and hips and accentuated his beautiful ass. The shirt he wore was also very tight and of a gray silk material. His muscled chest and arms were very visible bulging through the fabric. His footwear, a pair of highly polished black leather dress boots that zipped up past his ankle finished off his sexy sharp looks. I was wearing a suit as I felt I was still too new in the office to observe the casual dress policy on Fridays.

 

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight,” Ethan asked as he approached me with a smile?

 

“Yes, I would. I do not know many people around here yet and it would be nice to have some company,” I replied. I was not being completely honest as I had already turned a couple of tricks during my evenings and nights out.

 

I followed him my car to his house. Dinner was pleasant and the food was good, but I was more interested in him. We sat in the living room after dinner having cocktails. Ethan told me where he was from and about the town. I related some of my travels. After a while our conversation fell off and his face took on a sad look. I asked him if something was wrong as I was hoping to get some action. The story he told me was stunning. It just pored out of him as if he had kept it pent up for a long time.

 

“My boyfriend Darrick is in prison. He is going to be executed in the electric chair in a couple of weeks. Darrick used to buy drugs for our friends and me. About a year ago he got caught in the middle of a turf war between two dealers. He was buying some drugs from one dealer when the other dealer confronted them. A fight broke out and in the ensuing struggle; the dealer who confronted them pulled a gun. Darrick wrestled the gun away from the dealer and shot him dead when he pulled a knife and plunged it toward him. The police arrived just as the shooting occurred. Darrick ran. The police shot and killed the other dealer and then chased Darrick. They caught him. His prints were on the gun and they also claimed he was dealing drugs too. He was put on trial and convicted of drug dealing and murder. He was sentenced to death. It has all been so fast. His appeals were dismissed with little notice. I am afraid yet also confused about all that has happened.”

 

Ethan had blurted this out with great emotion and now slumped on the couch opposite from the chair I was sitting in and began sobbing. I sat stunned and now knew why he always looked so sad. I had been aroused before Ethan began telling the story and now felt a little guilty, but my cock was still hard and I had a strange feeling.

 

I moved over to Ethan and sat close to him. I pulled him toward me and placed his head against my chest. He continued to sob quietly.

 

After a while he quietly began talking. I heard him say, “I feel so alone. Everyone in the office avoids me because of what happened to Darrick. They wanted to fire me, but I pleaded to keep my job and they told me I could stay, but if I ever got out of line, then they would fire me.”

 

I whispered into his ear, “I am sorry.”

 

He continued, “I was afraid that the police would come after me, but they never did. They searched Darrick’s apartment and questioned me, but never came to search my house. Our friends were all afraid too and they have stayed away from me. I think they believe that the police are watching me now. I do not think that they are.”

 

He was quiet again and then I felt his hand touch my semi-hard crotch. He lifted his head off my chest and looked at me. His eyes were still wet with tears, but had a curious look in them. “You are aroused. Do you like me?”

 

I stumbled for words and felt a little foolish at what I said. “I think you are beautiful and very sexy. I did not know you had a boyfriend and I am sorry to hear all this. I do not mean to be excited given how upset you are, but I cannot help it. I thought when you asked me for dinner, that you were interested in me. I should really leave and……..”

 

Ethan smiled as I spoke and placed his fingers on my lips cutting off my words. He then gently kissed me on the lips. I felt his tongue probe into my mouth and my cock throbbed ever harder. I pressed my lips tight against his and let my tongue probe deeply into his mouth. As our tongues played, Ethan hands quickly undid my tie and unbuttoned my shirt. He pulled back from my mouth and began working his tongue down my neck and to my chest. I heard a little chuckle as he discovered the rings piercing my nipples. He tugged at them with his teeth and the slight pain he caused sent me rocketing as pleasure radiated through my body. My cock wanted to explode and I could feel pre-cum beginning to leak from my piss hole into my bikini briefs.

 

Ethan soon followed my thin hair line down past my abs and he twirled his tongue around my belly button before reaching my trousers. I was in ecstasy. He quickly had my belt unbuckled and my trousers unzipped. Before he could go further though, I jumped up and began tearing off my clothes. Ethan did the same with his clothes.

 

I stared at Ethan’s beautiful body, his muscles were hard and he was completely shaved. I usually liked to have guys with lots of hair, but the curves and bulges of Ethan’s muscles deserved to be fully exposed. I grabbed Ethan and pulled him to me. He laughed as I dropped to my knees and began lapping at his balls. His hard adequate dick bounced on my forehead as I sucked away. I soon had his dick in my mouth and working up and down my throat. I sucked until he shook and was near exploding. He pulled back and dropped to his knees and pushed me on my back. I arched my back and yelled out as he took my dick and balls into his mouth.

 

He swallowed my entire shaft and brought me to the verge of an orgasm. He pulled back and licked my balls keeping me at the edge of total pleasure and then plunged my shaft back down his throat repeatedly until I could no longer control myself. I yelled and he pulled back just as cum exploded from my engorged penis. I shot my load on his face and chest. Ethan smiled and then pushed my head down to his crotch and I began to return the favor to him. Later we both lay spent on his bed in the upstairs bedroom wrapped in each others arms and legs, sweaty and sticky and feeling content.

 

I awoke in the morning and found myself with a strong erection. Ethan had his back to me and my penis was pressing against him just above his ass. I wiggled myself down a little and let my cock head probe his ass. Ethan awoke sensing my probing and began to flex his ass muscles clenching my cock head with each contraction. It was not long before I could not control myself and I pulled Ethan tight to me and began pushing hard into his ass. I fucked him and he moaned in pleasure. I reached climax in a shuddering spasm as I pumped my man juice into him and he held me in until I was spent. I drifted back to sleep.

 

A Hanging Game

 

When I awoke, Ethan was not in bed. I could hear him moving around downstairs and could smell coffee brewing. As I lay in bed, I noticed a number of DVD’s on a shelf along the wall. I got up and went to the shelf and looked at them. They were labeled with various titles and one caught my eye.

 

It was labeled “Darrick Hangs Ethan.” I felt my cock twitch and immediately wanted to see the content of the DVD. There was a TV with DVD player in the bedroom and I turned it on and popped the DVD into the player’s tray.

 

The DVD started and opened with a scene of what appeared to be a basement. Possibly it was the basement to this house. Ethan was in the picture and mostly naked except he was wearing a pair of black leather chaps, black boots, and set of a harness straps on his chest. He was standing with his hands on his head. A man appeared from off screen and came up to Ethan. He was tall with thick jet black hair, hairy legs and chest, and nicely tanned skin. He was quite tall and very thin, but had well developed muscles. He was wearing very tight blue jeans, tan leather cowboy boots, and a red bandana around his neck. He appeared to be younger than Ethan.

 

I thought that the man must be Darrick. He knelt down in front of Ethan and began sucking on Ethan’s cock. He did so for a few minutes and Ethan moaned in pleasure, but kept his hands on his head. Darrick stood up and moved behind Ethan. He being much taller, I could see his head, neck, and shoulders above Ethan’s head.

 

Darrick took hold of Ethan’s hand and pulled them behind Ethan’s back. I could not see what he did, but he appeared to be fastening something to Ethans’ wrists. Ethan just stood there with his cock at full mast and dripping pre-cum.

 

Darrick pulled a noose down from the ceiling beam over Ethan’s head. I had not noticed the noose before. I felt my cock spring to life and a strange anxious quiver went through my entire body. The noose was coiled with several loops.

 

Ethan did not move as Darrick pulled the noose over his head and cinched the knot against Ethan’s neck and just to the left of his chin. He then began to pull the slack from the rope and slowly began to lift Ethan up off the floor by walking away holding the rope tight. Ethan rose on his toes and his face began to redden as his weight pulled the noose tighter around his neck. He stayed up on his toes as Darrick tied the rope off on a hook in the nearby wall. He then walked back to Ethan. Darrick quickly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his cock, which was very large and hard and throbbing. Darrick pushed his cock into Ethan’s ass and began to fuck him.

 

I could hear Darrick’s voice and he said, “I am fucking you hard boy, so hard as you hang and dance for me.” He then grunted in pleasure as he pushed deeper into Ethan in rhythmic thrusts and his eyes took on a devilish look.

 

I was stroking myself as I watched the scene. I found myself stroking in rhythm to Darrick’s fucking. Ethan’s cock was standing nearly vertical and dripping large quantities of cum, but he had not reached orgasm yet. His face was very red and his eyes were bulging. He appeared to be able to catch an occasional breath as Darrick had his arms around Ethan’s torso and the combination of his thrusting cock and arms holding Ethan took some weight off of Ethan’s neck.

 

The scene went on for several minutes until Ethan began to thrash and appeared to be losing consciousness. His cock waved wildly and then shot load after load high into the air arcing out down to the floor. Darrick reached climax nearly at the same time pumping his man juice into Ethan. He pulled out and untied the rope from the column and let Ethan down. Ethan collapsed on the floor. His chest heaving as he struggled to take in large gulps of air.

 

Darrick moved to Ethan and held his head in his lap until Ethan was breathing a little more normally. Eventually Ethan recovered enough and they kissed each other before moving off screen. The DVD ended.

 

I was so hard and could not control myself as I stroked hard on my penis and then shot my load nearly hitting the TV screen. I was amazed at how exciting the scene was and how it had aroused me so. I knew I would get aroused by execution scenes, but had never fully appreciated the effect that watching a hanging would have on me.

 

I heard Ethan coming up the stairs and pulled the DVD out of the player, shut the power, and hopped back into bed. Ethan came in and said, “Breakfast is ready and I am sure you must be hungry. Come have something to eat.” We went downstairs and I wondered if he would find my cum dried on the wall behind the TV. I do not know if he ever did. We spent the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company.

 

Over the next couple of weeks, I continued to see Ethan. We would get together after work and fuck. It was good. I began to think that maybe I would stay around this town for longer than the usual couple of months. It was pleasant, but I still itched to get out and screw other men and trick a little for cash.

 

I kept having strange dreams. I would dream that Ethan was hanging and then I would be hanging. Darrick would appear in the dreams as the hangman. I would awake with a raging hard on and would have to quickly shoot my load for relief.

 

One evening, Ethan asked me if I would attend Darrick’s execution. Darrick was allowed two witnesses. Darrick had no family that he was in contact with and that he, Ethan was really the only person that Darrick knew outside of the prison. I at first wanted to say no, but could not resist Ethan’s pleading look. I consented and with a mix of fear and excitement began marking the time until the execution a little over a week away.

 

A couple of days before the execution, I arrived at Ethan’s house. Ethan was wrapping a large box for mailing.

 

“What is in the box,” I asked?

 

“It is Darrick’s suit and shoes. The best clothes he owns.” Darrick’s lawyer called yesterday and told me that Darrick wanted to die in nice clothes. He asked me to send these to the prison. If I did not send them, then Darrick would be executed in his prison uniform. The prison will bury Darrick in whatever he is wearing when they kill him.”

 

Ethan finished wrapping the box and said, “I guess I should be upset, but in a way I want this to be over and Darrick to be gone. Maybe he was not the best for me and I need to move on with my life. I started throwing some of Darrick’s possessions away. I had some of his things in boxes in the basement. After he was convicted I went to his apartment. It was a mess from the police having searched it, but I was able to get his clothes and other items.

 

I pulled Ethan close to me and began kissing him. Before long we were on the floor. I found myself putting my hands around Ethan’s neck as I fucked him from behind. Ethan gagged as I thrust my dick deep into his ass and squeezed his neck.

 

I shot my load into him and then slumped to the floor exhausted. Ethan sat on my chest, his face red and his cock slapping me in the face. He then grabbed onto my neck and began to strangle me really hard. I at first found it exciting and my cock quickly rose to attention, but soon I was losing control and could not breathe. There was a very evil look in Ethan’s eyes and his cock was dripping pre-cum onto my face. I struggled, but Ethan’s bull muscles held me down and his legs clamped around my chest squeezing tight. I began to panic, my hands pulling against his arms in an attempt to get him to relax his grip. I was fading and blackness was beginning to creep into my vision.

 

Ethan let go and rolled off me laughing with an evil edge in his voice. I lay on the floor coughing and gagging. My body was feeling numb from the lack of oxygen, but my cock was still hard and dripping.

 

“How do you like that,” Ethan asked still laughing?

 

I cursed him and said, “Why did you strangle me like that?” I thought I was going to pass out.”

 

“You were choking me and seemed to enjoy it, so I thought I would return the favor,” he said.

 

“I did not choke you as hard as you choked me and I did it only because I thought it would make you harder, which it did.”

 

Ethan said, “And I returned the favor. You know that Darrick liked to hang me and I him. It is strange that he is going to be executed in the electric chair. He probably would prefer being hanged.”

 

Ethan then helped me up and we went upstairs to fuck some more. Later, I admitted to having seen the hanging DVD and being aroused by it, but left out the part about shooting my load on the wall.

 

Ethan told me that he liked being hanged and in a way feels a little aroused about Darrick’s upcoming execution, but also very upset because Darrick is really going to die. It will not be like the sexual play hanging that they did in the past.

 

Darrick’s Execution

 

Darrick’s execution day arrived. I was filled with a mixture of fear and excitement as we drove to the prison. I kept shifting in the car seat as my cock kept rising and falling in my suit trousers. I did not want Ethan to see my excitement.

 

Ethan said nothing for most of the drive. We had both dressed in dark suits as if we were attending a funeral. I thought that somehow it was unreal and that we would get there only to find out that Darrick had been given a stay.

 

As we pulled up to the prison, Ethan said, “I do want it over though, as I think that Darrick should have been more careful about using drugs and I could have gotten caught up in it all.”

 

I was surprised to hear Ethan say that, but was thinking that Ethan was just trying to brace himself for what was about to happen.

 

The prison was a huge group of buildings set in the middle of nowhere. We arrived at the main gate and were escorted to the death house. The guards searched us and then led us to a room where several other people were waiting. No one spoke.

 

After at time that seemed to last forever, a guard dressed in a white uniform shirt, black trousers, and black patent leather oxfords came in. He introduced himself as Sergeant Taylor. He was tall and built like a rock and quite attractive. His trousers were stretched a bit tight and he sported a nice package in between his legs.

 

He explained the execution procedure to us. The condemned man would be brought into the death chamber, strapped into the electric chair, electrodes attached to his head and leg, allowed a final statement, and then electrocuted. The electrocution would consist of two cycles. The first would be 2,000 volts and high amperage for ten seconds followed by 1,000 volts with lower amperage for fifty seconds, a ten second pause, and then a repeat of the first cycle. He said it would be quick and painless and the condemned inmate would likely be dead by the end of the first cycle. Sergeant Taylor flashed a strange smile at Ethan and me. I felt that familiar stirring in my loins as he described the procedures.

 

Sergeant Taylor told us to follow him. We all exited the room and walked down a long hall and through a door into a dully lit large room. It was the witness area for the death chamber. The walls were painted a grayish white. Chairs were set up in rows, which rose in several tiers. They faced toward a wall that was mostly made of glass windows with wire in the glass. The top of the wall was lined with a grill which allowed sound to pass to and from the room on the other side. The electric chair was visible through the window in a similarly painted room that was brightly lit. The chair was set about ten feet from the wall and no more fifteen feet from the first row of chairs.

 

Ethan looked pale and I took his hand. I wanted to sit in the first row, but Ethan had pulled us to the second row. He sat and hunched over putting his free hand to his face. I stared at the electric chair.

 

The electric chair was made of dark wood. It was bigger than an ordinary chair and looked like a throne. The wood braces and slats were fastened together by large metal plates and bolts. Several wide tan leather straps with buckles hung from the chair back, arm rests, and from a brace on the lower front of the chair that looked like a leg stock. There was a curved black leather headrest on the back of the chair. The chair appeared to be adjustable with metal brackets on the arms and legs. Two thick black cables came out from a metal conduit that ran along the base of the back wall from a small recessed area in the right back corner of the room that looked like the control area. The cables extended across the floor behind the electric chair. One ended under the chair and the other ran up the chair behind the slats to just above the head rest. Both cables contained female copper leads at their ends.

 

Behind the chair was a clock and it was just a few minutes before 10:00AM. There was also a small shelf on the back wall to one side of the chair. On the shelf were what appeared to be a wide black leather strap or black leather strip with hooks and lace attached to it and a black leather and metal helmut. They had metal posts sticking out of them and seemed to have extra leather strips attached to them. Two black steel double doors were on the side walls. The doors were closed. Next to the left side door was a recessed area and a control panel was visible.

 

The tiers of chairs filled with more people who came into the death chamber, some were dressed in guard uniforms and stood along the sides and back of the tiers, but most were in suits and they sat in the chairs. No one talked. I had to adjust my cock as it was hard and pushing tightly in my briefs. I tried to conceal the bulge by pulling my suit jacket over my lap as best I could.

 

Suddenly, the double doors on the left opened and in marched a guard dressed similarly to Sergeant Taylor except he had a small pouch attached to his black leather belt. He was followed by two tall young guards who were very well built. They had crew cuts and were wearing sharp navy blue uniform trousers, jacket, tie, blue shirt, and black patent leather oxfords. The three men stood along the sides and behind the electric chair.

 

The guards were followed by a man who was very tall and dressed in a black suit with a black leather hood and gloves. He was the executioner and he stood in the small recessed area where the control panel was. My cock throbbed harder.

 

Finally, a man dressed in a gray pinstripe suit and black dress oxfords walked briskly into the death chamber and I immediately knew that he was the warden as he had an air of authority about him. He stood to one side just inside the door. He was followed by two guards also dressed in navy blue uniforms like the two guards now positioned at the back on each side of the electric chair. They looked tough and had huge arms and chests.

 

In between them was Darrick. They were holding his arms just below the shoulders. I was stunned by Darrick’s appearance. It was much different from the DVD I had seen him in. His jet black hair was gone. His head and been shaved completely bald. He still looked muscular, but thinner and his nicely tanned skin was now a pale color. Darrick’s eyes were wide with fear and he appeared to resist the guards, but could not move very much due to the shackles at his wrists, waist, and ankles. I thought that even if he had tried to struggle that he was no match for the two huge guards who pulled him to the front of the electric chair. Darrick was wearing a gray suit jacket and trousers. The trousers were tented out at the crotch revealing what must have been an erection. He had on a white shirt which was buttoned up to his neck. I noticed that there was a slit in the right trouser leg from the hem to the knee and his leg appeared to have been shaved too. He had black leather wingtip oxfords on his feet. These were the clothes that Ethan had sent to the prison last week.

 

I heard Ethan gasp and quickly looked over at him. He had a look of horror on his face. He had placed his free hand on his crotch and I could see that he also had an erection. I grasped his other hand tighter.

 

Darrick was quickly unshackled by one of the guards that had entered before him. The two guards holding him pulled him back and sat him down firmly in the electric chair pressing him down with one hand each on his shoulders and one on his hands. The two other guards quickly stepped up to the sides of the electric chair and drew heavy tan leather harness straps around Darrick’s upper arms just above his elbows. The guards cinched and buckled the straps tight. They moved to his lower arms pulling his suit jacket and shirt sleeves back exposing his wrists and drew the heavy tan leather straps around each arm and buckled his wrists tightly to the arm rests of the electric chair.

 

The four guards then moved to Darrick’s legs. They squatted in unison and one guard each took his ankles pushing his nicely polished dress shoes back so that his legs were in the stocks. The other guards then strapped his legs tightly in the stock above each ankle.

 

The two guards that had brought Darrick into the death chamber then moved over to the door where they had come in and stood facing the electric chair. The remaining guards each secured the final straps. One ran across Darrick’s waist and just above where his gray trousers were tenting up. The other strap was secured across his chest and shoulders. The guard pulled it hard, cinching it tight before buckling it. Darrick gasped a little as his back was pushed tightly against the back of the electric chair. His eyes darted from the guards to the straps and back to the guards. He tried to pull his legs against the straps a couple of times, but they only jerked slightly as the straps held them tight. The heels of his wingtips were raised slightly off the floor and the toes of his shoes were just barely touching the floor as the seat of the electric chair was adjusted a little higher than a normal chair. He could not get any leverage with his feet. He looked helpless and unable to move much at all. His hands clawed the air and then he seemed to give up and he lowered his head showing the top of his shaved head to us. He was breathing hard.

 

The guard in the black trousers and white shirt standing behind the electric chair walked around to the right front of the chair and squatted down. With the assistance of one of the remaining guards he wrapped what appeared to be a large black leather strip around Darrick’s right leg. The leather strip actually looked like the shaft of a combat boot and was about eight inches high covering most of Darrick’s calf. There were metal lace hooks on each side of the shaft and laces hanging from the hooks on one side. The guard quickly wove the lace through the hooks on the opposite side as if lacing a boot and then pulled the lace tight tying them with a small bow knot.

 

There was a large copper screw post sticking out of the side of the leather strip. The guard picked up the cable that was lying under the chair and inserted the lead onto the copper post. He reached into the pouch at his waist and pulled out a large copper bolt, which he screwed onto the post until the lead was snug. He then stood up and walked around to the back of the electric chair.

 

Darrick strained his neck forward studying the black leather strip laced to his leg. I knew that it was the leg electrode.

 

The warden stepped forward and in a loud solemn voice he said, “Darrick Phillip Adams, you have been sentenced to suffer the pain of death in the electric chair by the passing of an electric current through your body. Before this sentence is carried out, it is my duty as warden to ask if you have a final statement.”

 

At the sound of the warden’s voice, Darrick jerked in the chair and raised his head up with his wide eyes staring intently at the warden. The warden’s words seemed to make him shake and I noticed that the bulge in his trousers grew larger.

 

Darrick’s scanned the witnesses, but did not seem to notice us. I think that he could not see us very well as the death chamber was more brightly lit and the glass from his side must have reflected the light making it had to see through.

 

Darrick cried out, “I do not deserve to die.” His expression became angry and he clawed his hands into the air, struggling hard against the straps. He screamed at the warden and the guards, “Fuck you. You cannot do this to me. I hate you. Fuck every one of you. I …..”

 

The warden signaled to one of the guards, who stepped up to the electric chair and placed his hand on Darrick’s chin shoving his jaw shut, cutting off his words, and pushing his head back hard against the leather head rest. The other guard put his hand on Darrick’s neck and they both held tight as Darrick continued to claw and struggle. His voice now muffled grunts.

 

I was shocked as I had expected Darrick was afraid and resigned to his fate. His dress and looks did not make him look hard, but his eyes revealed a dark inner meanness that was now expressed in his words. Everyone in the witness room seemed taken aback by his outburst.

 

The guard behind the electric chair picked up the black leather and metal helmut and placed it firmly on Darrick’s shaved head. It was the death cap and inside of it was the copper head electrode and sponge. The guards quickly drew the strap from the helmut under Darrick’s chin and cinched it tight. Darrick’s eyes darted widely around, but he could not move his head as one of the guards was still holding his neck.

 

The guard behind the chair brought a black leather mask down over Darrick’s head and the last thing I saw of his face was his wild darting eyes. The mask covered his forehead, eyes, and mouth. It had an oval hole for his nose and wide straps that the guard behind the chair pulled tight around the head rest and then buckled. Darrick’s head was held rigidly against the head rest. The guard then inserted the cable lead on the back of the electric chair onto the copper post. He screwed another copper bolt onto the post until the lead was snug.

 

Darrick had stopped struggling and was breathing hard. His chest rose and fell and his neck seemed stretched taut with his head strapped back against the head rest. His cock was still erect tenting his trousers and a small wet spot was visible from what must have been his pre-cum. I too was wet and again shifted in my seat feeling a little stickiness in my underwear. There was complete silence in the death chamber except for the hum of the ventilation system. It was actually quite cool in the room, but I was sweating and I noticed that Ethan was too.

 

The guards all stepped away from the electric chair. The warden turned his head toward the executioner and nodded. The executioner placed his hand on the controls and nodded back to the warden, who then looked up at the clock on the wall behind the electric chair. It was 10:04 AM. The warden nodded back to the executioner and he turned a large dial which made a dull thud as it closed the circuit.

 

There was a louder thud from what must have been a generator set just outside the control booth wall adjacent to the death chamber and wham, Darrick’s body jerked rigid in a very violent manner as the electric current slammed into his body. A muffled scream came from behind the black leather mask as Darrick’s hands clenched tightly into contorted fists and pulled back from the arm rests. His chest heaved up and out against the tan leather harness straps and his shoes pulled up further off the floor as his legs contracted. He remained rigid in the chair and a buzzing noise was audible in the death chamber. The initial cycle of 2,000 volts dropped to 1,000 volts and Darrick’s body jerked again in the chair. A larger wet spot appeared in his trousers as he apparently had an orgasm under the tearing current coursing through his body.

 

Darrick’s muscles were so tightly contracted that it seemed as if his whole body would fly out of the chair if it were not restrained tightly by the straps. A gurgling noise could be heard and I thought I could see Darrick’s chest heave once or twice. The first cycle ended and Darrick’s body relaxed and seemed to slump in the chair. The straps held him rigid though.

 

There was a slight twitching of his fingers which unclenched a little. Darrick seemed to exhale and a small amount of purplish liquid dripped out of his nose. His left oxford twitched a little. His right shoe was twisted in and his leg pulled up from the muscle contraction caused by the electric current.

 

The wet spot in his crotch grew into a gush of urine which ran onto the seat of the electric chair. There were small holes in the seat of the chair and the urine drained into the holes to a small pan that was suspended with a metal bracket under the seat. I was horrified and felt a little sick. I wondered if Darrick was dead even though there were still slight twitches from his body.

 

A loud thud signaled the start of the second electrocution cycle and Darrick’s body again stiffened in the chair. Now his skin began to redden and the buzzing sound became more of a sizzling noise. Smoke began to rise from the head and leg electrodes as the cycle drew to a close. Quiet filled the death chamber as the current turned off. Darrick’s body did not slump in the chair this time, but remained rigid with his back arched, hands clenched, and neck muscles still taut.

 

No one moved for several minutes. The guards then stepped up to the chair and removed the chest and shoulder strap. A man entered the death chamber. He had a medical bag. He walked up to the electric chair and leaned over Darrick’s motionless rigid body. He unbuttoned Darrick’s now sweat soaked shirt. He wiped the perspiration off of Darrick’s red skin colored chest and placed the stethoscope against it. He listened for a minute and then turned to the warden and said, “The inmate is deceased.” The prison physician looked up at the clock. I glanced at it too. It said 10:12 AM.

 

The warden turned to face all of us and said, “You have just witnessed the execution of condemned inmate Darrick Phillip Adams in accordance with the law.”

 

I suddenly felt exhausted and noticed that I was still hard, but feeling a little sick. Ethan seemed to be paralyzed and he just stared at Darrick’s body. I looked around the witness area. Sergeant Taylor was looking at me. His eyes seemed to penetrate deep into mine. I looked away.

 

The guards were already removing the straps. Darrick’s body did not slump as he was already stiff. I was horrified as the death mask and helmut were removed. Darrick’s face was now a grayish color. His eyes were discolored around the irises and wide open staring out with an astonished look. The purplish fluid that had run from his nose was also visible at the edges of his mouth, which was closed. The top of his shaved head was burned and blistered. I really began to feel sick. As the leg electrode was removed, I could see that the skin on his calf was red. It too was burned.

 

The guards lifted Darrick out of the chair and laid him on the gurney which had been brought to the front of the electric chair. The crotch and seat of his trousers were all wet with urine and I noticed a darker stain in the seat of his pants. He had lost control of his bowels too.

 

Darrick’s body would not lie flat on the gurney as his arms and legs were slightly bent and the guards could not push them all the way down. His crotch still bulged from his erection. They pushed the gurney from the room and the last thing I saw of Darrick were the soles of his shoes sticking out from the end of the gurney as it disappeared through the door.

 

Sergeant Taylor announced that we could all exit the death chamber. I nearly pushed my way through the other witnesses as I ran out of the room followed by Ethan. We walked back to the waiting room and Ethan sat on a chair and put his head between his knees. I squatted down next to him and put my arm around his back to hold him. Most of the witnesses left, but we sat a while. I became lost in my thoughts of Darrick’s electrocution.

 

Encounter with Sergeant Taylor

 

After a few minutes I told Ethan I had to use the rest room. Ethan shook his head and I got up to leave. I noticed that there was a wet stain on the crotch of Ethan’s suit trousers and realized that he had had an orgasm. I wondered, but knew that his feelings were like mine, both repulsed and sickened, yet excited.

 

I went to the bathroom and as I was standing at the urinal I suddenly sensed someone in the stall located in the far corner of the room. I finished and turned to leave, but heard movement and walked over to see what the noise was as the door to the stall was not closed. I peered in and saw Sergeant Taylor. The fly of his black uniform trousers was open and he was jerking off. He was so engrossed in himself that he had not heard me enter the bathroom, but then became aware of my presence when I looked into the stall.

 

He turned and looked at me, first with a surprised look and then a broad smile lit his face. “I watched you during the execution,” he said. “You were turned on by it weren’t you?”

 

I stuttered, “No, I mean maybe a little. I don’t.….” Sergeant Taylor reached out and pulled my arm bringing me into the stall. “Now listen faggot, you want my dick so you can relieve the excitement you got from watching your friend burn in the chair.”

 

He reached up and put his beefy arm around my neck and pushed my head down toward his chest. “Suck my cock before I crush your pretty little neck.” I gasped and pulled away, but he was too strong and he put his full weight against me pushing me to the floor in the tight confines of the stall. I wriggled free and tried to slide under the stall partition, but he squatted down and held my head down pushing my face between his black patent leather oxfords. I lay flat on the floor squirming for a while and then went limp as I knew that I could not get loose.

 

Sergeant Taylor said, “Lick my shoes and then suck my cock otherwise you are dead meat.” I did as I was told, scared, but now getting a strong erection again. I licked his shoes. The polished leather taste in my mouth was strong. He pulled my head up to his crotch and forced his penis into my mouth. It was too much for me and I gagged as he fucked my face. I was choking and getting red in the face. I thrashed on the floor.

 

He pulled out and shot his load on my face and then picked me up like I was a rag doll carrying me out of the stall. He shoved my head into a sink and turned the water on. He held my head down and I could barely breathe as water swirled around my face. I felt him undo my belt and yank my trousers down.

 

I screamed as his huge rod plowed up my ass. He was already hard again and he pounded me until I felt his man juice explode deep inside me. I came too spraying my juice under the sink. He pulled out and I collapsed to the floor. I could not move I was so exhausted and sore.

 

Sergeant Taylor reached down and grabbed me by my collar. He pulled me up and said, “Now get out of here before I sit your ripe little butt in the electric chair.”

 

He shoved me toward the door as I fumbled to pull up my trousers and hook my belt. I half ran back to the waiting room where Ethan was sitting. Ethan looked at me with shock. My suit was rumpled and dirty. My face and hair were wet. He saw Sergeant Taylor in the hall looking at us and laughing and grabbing his crotch. Ethan turned and ran from me down the hall toward the exit. I followed him half running, but sore. I called after him, but he did not stop. Ethan nearly left me at the prison and I just made it to the car as he was getting ready to drive away.

 

Ethan was silent as we drove. When I had tried to talk to him, he told me to shut up. I sat slumped in the passenger seat, feeling awful. I had been raped, but in all the pain and humiliation, I had been wildly excited. The abuse really turned me on. The whole morning had been one long roller coaster of sexual arousal and physical action. First the execution and now being raped, it shook me to my core leaving me wanting more deep inside.

 

Ethan dropped me off at my apartment and still looked angry as he drove away. I walked stiffly to my door. I was sore and tired. I stripped, showered, and fell into bed. I slept for the rest of the day and into the next. I was visited by dreams of being raped, electrocuted, and strangled.

 

Hanging Ethan

 

The next day I woke in mid-morning. I was still sore and thought I would be in trouble at work. At the office my boss met me as I came in. He said two words. “You’re fired.” I tried to protest, but the building security guards grabbed me and removed me from the building.

 

I went home upset and tried to call Ethan at the office. The receptionist said that Ethan was not available. I called Ethan’s house that night and left a message. A week went by and I called several times leaving messages at his house, but he did not call back.

 

I spent the nights cruising around and tricking with every guy I could. I was haunted by the events at the prison and had to have hard sex as much as possible. I was also confused by Ethan’s reaction and silence.

 

It was the weekend and I was wearing my usual leather jacket, jeans, and black leather boots. I drove to Ethan’s house. I knocked on the door. Ethan answered.

 

He did not say a word, but just left the door open and turned back inside. I walked in. Ethan looked high. His eyes were glassy. He was wearing boxer shorts and nothing else.

 

I tried to pull him close to me, but he pushed away and said, “Fuck you. I hate you. You used me. I think you are a pig.”

 

“Why, I cried out, “What did I do?”

 

Ethan laughed. “You had sex with that guard. You enjoyed watching Darrick die. You were supposed to be there to support me.”

 

“The guard raped me,” I said.

 

“Do not lie to me. You were excited by it. I could see with my own eyes and I saw how excited you were during the execution. I do not trust you. You snooped around my house watching my DVD’s and I think you have used me.”

 

“You were excited too,” I said. “I did not sneak around your house. Why are you saying these things?”

 

“Fuck you,” Ethan said turning away. “Now just get out. I never want to see you again and I hope you never find another job.”

 

I grabbed Ethan’s arm. “Why was I fired? What did you say at the office?”

 

Ethan just laughed that evil laugh I had heard before. “You took advantage of my weakness over Darrick,” he said angrily. “I had to get back at you. I told them you were a queer and a thief. They believed me, but then our fucking boss fired me too. Now we are both screwed, but I want you gone.”

 

I suddenly felt a fury build in me and I lashed out, punching Ethan in the nose. He fell back hard hitting his head on the floor and lay still. I crouched down over him. He was still breathing, but I wanted to make him suffer more.

 

My rage was uncontrollable. I pulled him by the arms across the floor to the door leading to the basement. I threw him down the stairs. He tumbled down the stairs to the basement floor. I ran down the stairs and stepped over him. He was moaning. I searched the basement until I found the noose that Darrick and he had used. I also found some leather cuffs. I put the rope over a beam letting the knotted end with the noose dangle close to the floor.

 

Ethan began to stir. I went back to him. He looked at me through doped eyes, stunned from my blow and still a little high. He had a nasty bruise on his cheek and several more bruises on his bull muscled body from the tumble down the stairs. A little blood ran from his nose.

 

I pulled him across the floor. He did not struggle much. He should have been able to take me easily since he was so strong, but he was stunned. I dragged him to where the noose was dangling. I strapped his wrists behind his back with the wide leather cuffs. I held his head up and pulled the noose over his head and tightened it around his neck.

 

Ethan was still too stunned to resist, but as soon as he felt the rope on his neck he began to struggle. He tried to get to his feet, but could not move fast enough. I grabbed the rope and pulled on it hard putting all my weight into it. I lifted Ethan up and off the floor. I tied the rope to the hook on the wall and turned to watch my handiwork.

 

Ethan was suspended off the floor. He was kicking hard and gagging. His strong neck was stretching taut on the noose. I pulled down his boxer shorts and unbuttoned my jeans, pulling out my hard fuck tool. I grabbed him from behind around the waist as I had seen Darrick do in the DVD. I fucked him. I was brutal and kept pounding hard until I released my load into him.

 

I pulled out and watched. The anger in me would not stop. I was driven. Ethan could not just toss me aside. He had used me, gotten me fired, and I could not stop from taking revenge.

 

Ethan’s face was beet red. His eyes bulged wide and his tongue was sticking out from his mouth. His legs kicked and his whole body jerked as he wriggled to get his wrists free. His toes pointed straight down to reach the floor.

 

I was mesmerized. Ethan’s cock was standing up tall against his chest. Cum was leaking from it and dripping down his shaft and balls. Suddenly a violent shudder ran through his body. His hips bucked hard and he shot a large wad of cum straight up into the air. He shot another load, and then another, and then a shudder ran through his body again. He went limp. His head twisted to the side pulled by the rope, staring bulging eyes unseeing, mouth open, and tongue hanging. Saliva, mucus, and a little blood dripped from his nose and mouth.

 

Ethan’s body slowly twisted on the rope and his back turned toward me. It was arched and his wrists were pulled tight in the leather cuffs. I saw his fingers twitch. My cum was running out of his ass hole and down his legs.

 

His front twisted back toward me just as a yellow stream of piss fountained up from his still erect cock. It splashed down his waist and legs to the floor. A slight twitch in his feet and then he was still. Ethan was dead.

 

I turned away. I grabbed my still hard cock and squeezed it shooting another wad of jism out. I had done it. I breathed hard and shook from the frenzy that I had just experienced. I was not sorry. Something in me had changed about a week ago when we were at the prison. I had been so excited yet repulsed at the execution and then getting raped. Now I was driven, angry, possessed at having men and having them in a hard and violent way. I had killed Ethan and I felt such intense excitement. It was the hanging that turned me on.

 

I ran up the stairs and fled the house and went home. I should get away I thought. I was exhausted though and fell asleep still fully dressed. I dreamed of hanging by my neck and struggling to reach the floor, but unable to do so.

 

When I awoke, the horror of what I had done flooded my mind. I had been out of control and now a day later my deeds hit me like I had been punched hard. I could not breathe. I staggered to the bathroom and vomited. I was doomed and I knew it. They would catch me.

 

I had left my fingerprints and DNA all over Ethan’s house and on him. They would find his body. They would know that I had been there once they collected evidence. How long did I have? Maybe a week at best. Would anyone find Ethan soon? He did not have any friends and was not expected at the office. Maybe it would take a few weeks before someone would check the house. A mailman perhaps noticing that the mail was piling up in the box? A utility worker coming to read a meter and smelling an awful odor or maybe a neighbor? I would have to go back and dispose of the body.

 

I calmed down. I had time though. I needed sex first. I foolishly waited until the next day to go back. I had hard sex that night first. I picked up a young kid. I met him at a bar and we went out to the parking lot. He was a college kid dressed in jeans, polo shirt, and white leather hi-top basketball sneakers. I attacked him once we were away from the bar behind some cars. I think he was sorry as I was rough and our sex bordered on rape. He finally ran from me as I tried to fuck him a second time.

 

I returned to Ethan’s house the next day. No one had been there. The basement smelled. I should not have waited even a day. It was not pretty. His body was still hanging where I had left it. It was stiff and his neck was stretched grotesquely. I cut the rope and Ethan’s body fell to the floor.

 

I wrapped the body in a sheet and then dragged it upstairs. I waited until dark to drag the body out to my car and put it in the trunk. It was hard work. I spent the day cleaning up the basement. There was a shovel in the garage and I put it in the car. Late that night I drove several miles outside of the city. I stopped along a quiet road and dragged Ethan’s body into a wooded area. I dug a hole and rolled his body into it. I filled the hole and covered it with fresh dirt with branches. I thought that it would likely never be found.

 

I left town the next day wondering if anyone would miss Ethan. If they did, then I hoped that the authorities would think that Ethan had skipped town. The people at the office would likely tell them about me if they questioned them. They might look for me, but without a body, there was really no good reason to pursue me. I hoped. I was calmer now. I was thrilled by my actions, but felt uneasy too.

 

After driving for a few days, I stopped in a city in another state. I could not find office work this time and ended up working as a clerk in a dumpy DVD store. The cash I made from tricking was even more important.

 

Jonathan

 

Two weeks after arriving, I met Jonathan. He was my downfall and the story is even stranger than my adventures with Ethan. I was still driven for hard sex, but I managed to control myself from being abusive of the guys I was with and thought I could lay low for a while. Jonathan changed that.

 

Jonathan came into the store late one evening. It was almost closing time. I was alone and stocking the shelves and did not hear him enter. I was wearing gray dress trousers, white shirt, and thin black tie. I had on my racy black dress oxfords. I still liked to dress nicely even though my suits did not fit the job. I had taken to leaving the suit jackets at home. I disliked wearing the employee tag with name as it did make me look a little dorky.

 

I heard a snickering behind me. I turned to see a young tall thin man with a riot of long dirty blonde hair. He appeared to be about twenty years old. His face was gorgeous. The beautiful green eyes with long eye lashes made me swoon. A mouth of perfect white teeth flashed from the thin delicate lips that smiled at me. Several large silver rings pierced his ears, and both eye lids. He was wearing punk clothes. There was an ample bulge in his faded tight jeans, which were torn in several places and folded up above tall reddish leather boots with white laces. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt and worn black leather jacket with metal studs. Black leather straps with studs on each of his wrists completed his outfit. The punk look and cute face immediately brought my cock to attention.

 

The punk continued to snicker and said, “Man you look so straight arrow with your tie, pants, and cute black shoes. What happened to the big ass dude that used to be here at nights?”

 

I brushed aside his rather harsh remark about my dress. “I do not know what big ass dude you are talking about, but if you do not like what I am wearing I can take it off,” I said, testing whether he would be interested.

 

He smiled and turned his lips into an adorable pout, “Well I don’t know if a clean boy like you would like my style.”

 

“Try me. I close up the store soon and would love to make you pay for being such a smart ass with me.”

 

He looked at me thinking for a moment squinting to read the employee tag on my shirt and then said, “Okay Anthony. My name is Jonathan and maybe we can have a little fun tonight.”

 

Jonathan hung around the store while I closed up. We left and began walking across the parking lot. Jonathan said, “Hey, I need to get high and there is a park nearby where I can usually find someone selling. Let’s walk there and then come back for your car. I was headed there when I stopped in to see Adrian. He is the big ass dude I mentioned. He usually has some crystal meth for me.

 

“I think Adrian must have been fired or quit as I have never seen him or even heard the name since I have been working at the store,” I said.

 

We walked across the parking lot and along the street toward the park. I kept studying Jonathan. He really was gorgeous. The punk look gave him a rough edge that suited my new desire for rough play. I liked his boots and jacket, the piercing too. As we approached the park entrance, I took hold of Jonathan’s arm and pulled him toward me. I placed my hand on his neck and pulled his face down to mine.

 

He smelled good and I breathed in his aroma and pressed my lips to his. He immediately pushed his tongue into my mouth. I felt my cock harden and had to rise on my toes as Jonathan put his arms around me and began to lift me up. I liked being embraced by this punk and thought that the night would be a good one.

 

The sound of footsteps pulled me from my reverie and Jonathan set me down and turned toward the approaching sound. A man dressed in a Marine uniform came walking out of the park.

 

“Ah shit,” Jonathan said. “That soldier boy ahead is always walking around the park. There is a military recruiting office near here and I always see him. He is probably going to harass us.”

 

The man, a Marine caught sight of us he approached and appeared to stare at us. He was wearing his blue dress uniform of blue trousers with red stripe and crisp dark blue jacket. He also had on a white and black marine’s hat, white belt around his jacket, and black patent leather oxfords. He looked very sharp.

 

As we got close to him I could see his features better. He was very tall and thin like Jonathan, but had beautiful brown eyes. He removed his hat I could see that he had a perfect high and tight crew cut. His hair was jet black. I thought, wow, he is hot! I never wanted to be in the military, but the guys in their uniforms were also a big turn on for me. I had tricked with a couple of soldier boys before and dated one too. I read his name off the tag on his jacket. It said Santiago.

 

“Well look what we have here, a fine young man and a punk,” Santiago said in a sarcastic voice. Santiago looked harshly at Jonathan and then at me. “Is this punk bothering you or are you a faggot like he is?”

 

Jonathan just smiled. I felt anger rise in me and started to protest, but Jonathan put up his hand and said, “Hey man, we are not causing you any harm so just leave us alone.” Jonathan turned and began walking away from the Marine. He took my hand and pulled me after him.

 

Santiago called after us, “I might just come after you queers and teach you a lesson. I know your name now, one of your drugged out friends blabbed to me in my office about you. It’s Jonathan and I will have you picked up and recruited soon. You cannot avoid the military much longer. It is mandatory. I will get you into basic training so you can get a good ass kicking before you’re discharged for being a fag.”

 

I heard Jonathan cursing under his breath and then heard him mutter. “It will be me coming after you asshole and you will regret it.”

 

Jonathan quickened his pace still pulling me along. Santiago did not follow us and soon we were headed back to my car. We drove to my apartment. Jonathan seemed glum and complained that he really wanted to get high tonight and that the fucking soldier boy had prevented this. As he paced around the living room, I admired him.

 

He said, “I am going to fix the man’s ass soon as he is always interrupting me in the park and no way am I ever going to serve in the military.” He sat on the couch swinging his boots up onto the coffee table and then smiled at me with an evil I want to have fun look in his eyes.

 

I sat beside him and began to fondle Jonathan’s crotch and an ample bulge soon showed in his very tight jeans. I attempted to kiss him, but he pushed me back and said. “I need to be rough tonight since I am not flying high. Can you do that too me?”

 

I replied, “You bet. Have you ever tried noose play?” My cock began throbbing at the thought of hanging Jonathan and fucking him.

 

Jonathan looked at me with suspicion, but then smiled and said, “Sure! I will try anything if it gets my rocks off.”

 

“Take off his jacket, t-shirt, drop your jeans, lie on your stomach, and put your hands on your back,” I ordered.

 

Jonathan’s lips formed a pout at my order. He complied though with a look of interest in his eyes. I did not have a rope in my apartment so I took three leather belts from my closet. I wrapped the first belt around his boots. I ran my hands up the smooth reddish colored leather. His boots were a big turn on. They were so big. I wrapped the second belt around his wrists and buckled it tight. I placed my shoe on his gorgeous bare butt and put some of my weight on him. Jonathan flexed his hands and pulled his wrists up testing the belt.

 

He turned his head trying to look up at me. He said, “Hey man, it’s a little too tight and hurts.” I responded with a hard kick into his side. He gasped and twisted his head back with an angry look in his eyes. “Hey man! I want to have sex not torture. Let me go.”

 

I grabbed his blonde mop of hair and pulled his head back and said. “You are going to have sex and it is going to be the best you have ever had. Now shut up and enjoy what I am going to do to you.”

 

I stripped, got some lube from the bathroom and knelt down straddling my legs on either side of Jonathan. Jonathan relaxed when he saw me with the lube and I think he anticipated getting a good fuck. I thought to myself that it would be more than just a good fuck.

 

The lube was cold and Jonathan clenched his butt cheeks together as I fingered his hole. My cock was throbbing and I put the third belt around Jonathan’s neck, but not too tight. My cock pushed into his ass. He was very tight and I had to keep working down until I was all the way in.

 

Jonathan moaned and I started to pump up and down. I slowly pulled the belt tighter until Jonathan’s head began to twist back. He gagged and tried to speak, but could not. He began to struggle and his ass muscles squeezed hard on my cock bringing me to an unbelievable high. I was on the verge of exploding and pulled harder on the belt.

 

Jonathan was struggling very hard. He kept wriggling and trying to raise his arms up. I could hear the toes of his strapped boots pounding on the floor as he thumped them up and down. I could not see his face, but knew that he was starving for oxygen. I kept my full weight on him and thrust ever harder.

 

He jerked hard, clenching my cock ever tighter in his ass. He seemed to be convulsing uncontrollably and I erupted with explosive force cumming over and over into him. I let go of the belt and pulled out, rolling off of him, exhausted.

 

Jonathan continued to jerk. I could see his face. It was red and he was drooling and coughing. He looked at me with fear in his eyes and I laughed. We lay on the floor for a few minutes with Jonathan slowly recovering. The look of fear slowly faded as he realized that I was not actually going to kill him.

 

Jonathan gasped, “That was wicked. I thought you were going to kill me. Untie me. I must have shot a liter of cum under me.”

 

I unbuckled the belts from his wrist and boots. He rolled over and sat up rubbing his neck, which had some pretty raw marks on them. His wrists were also bruised, but it was his chest that I noticed. It was covered in cum. His long slender cock and been pressed flat under his belly as I fucked him and he had shot all over himself. There was a sticky mess on the floor too.

 

“I am not sure I liked that, “Jonathan said. “It hurt and you bruised me. You had all the fun.”

 

I laughed, “You shot a nice load. You thought you were going to die and my strangling you made your orgasm quite intense.”

 

Jonathan nodded, “It still hurt though.”

 

I said, “I will let you do me tomorrow, but let’s sleep for now. I may have been a little too rough on you for the first time.” I helped Jonathan up and noticed my cum running out of his ass and down his legs. He pulled up his underwear and jeans and gathered his t-shirt and jacket.

 

“Do you want to clean up,” I asked him? He shook his head no. He headed to the door, but I pulled him back and led him into the bedroom and undressed him. As tired as I was I held and kissed him tenderly, rubbing his sore bruised neck. We both fell into bed. I was a sleep as my head hit the pillow.

 

I awoke. Jonathan was gone. I got out of bed and walked out of the bedroom. My clothes were still strewn on the floor from our wild sexual encounter the night before. I began picking them up. It was then that I saw my wallet lying on the floor. I picked it up and immediately noticed that all the cash was gone as well as my two id cards. Fuck, that little prick took me, I thought. I felt anger build in me and I threw my wallet against the wall. The ids would be hard to replace. It had my picture and DNA encoded in it.

 

The government would give me a hard time replacing the official one and question me about what I did for a living, where I lived, why wasn’t I serving in the military. They would probably find that there were two ids with the same DNA in the id data base system, my official one and my fake. I might be in trouble and wondered if anyone had missed Ethan yet. They might have evidence already. It pissed me off and I vowed to find Jonathan. I had to get my ids back so I would not have to go to the government for new ones. I also vowed to make Jonathan pay.

 

I cruised in my leather jacket, jeans, and boots around after work that night looking for Jonathan. I did not think he would be so dumb as to hang near the park since it was close to the store. I figured he would avoid me, but I tried the park anyway. It was blocked off with yellow tape and there were policemen standing at the entrances. I wondered what was going on.

 

Tristan

 

I cruised into the gay section of town looking for Jonathan. It was seedy and many of the establishments did not have signs. The government had raided places in the past and most tried to keep a low profile with no obvious signs of what they were.

 

I had been around this area a couple of times before to trick and I figured that if I did not find Jonathan here that I could at least get off with another guy. I checked out a couple of places with no sign of Jonathan.

 

At the third place I stopped there was a young skinhead dressed in t-shirt, camouflage pants, and black leather boots with white laces. I thought that he might know Jonathan since he had a similar dress and I approached him. He sneered at me when I started to talk to him and he turned away. I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around to face me. He was average in looks and his eyes were totally zoned out. He staggered and sneered at me again trying to pull away. I grabbed his t-shirt and yanked him close to me. I started to curse, but stopped when a hand was placed firmly on my shoulder.

 

I turned to find myself looking at the most beautiful man ever. He was a god. He was tall, built solid, short conservatively styled jet black hair, and piercing dark eyes. He looked into my eyes and I saw a power that held me from moving. I just stared.

 

He said, “I would think that you could do better than try to pick on or pick-up a brain fried skinhead. That boy there is so far gone; he would never even know that you had him. Why don’t you try someone a little more interesting, like me. I think that we are going to have some fun tonight.”

 

I gulped, thinking that I had hit the jackpot. Built was an understatement. The guy was huge. All muscle bulging everywhere. He was going to be more than I could handle, but oh it would be fun to have too much for once.

 

He was dressed in black leather from head to toe. He had on black leather harness boots that were highly polished and much nicer than my scoffed boots. His black leather pants were laced tightly at the legs and waist. He had a tight black leather jacket and cap. He seemed to bulge perfectly in all the right places. He was hot. I felt my penis stir to life. This was going to be a good night. Forget about finding Jonathan for now.

 

We left the bar. I could not take my eyes off of him. He looked at me and flashed beautiful teeth in a wide smile. He reached out and took my hand shaking it. “My name is Tristan, he said, “What is your name?”

 

I responded and we made small talk as we walked along the sidewalk. Tristan told me that the young punk back at the bar was named Bayard and was no good. He was always high and getting into trouble. Bayard’s punk friend Jonathan plied him with drugs. I asked Tristan to describe Jonathan thinking it might be the same person I wanted, but he said he had only heard this from other people at the bar and he had never seen Jonathan.

 

Tristan invited me back to his home. I drove my car following him in his car into a nice section of town. A long driveway led up to a very nice home. I did not get to see much of it as Tristan led me through several rooms in the house to a stairway. The rooms were all well furnished. I noticed that there were military and law enforcement pictures and plaques hanging on the walls in one of the rooms we passed through. I asked Tristan about them and he said he had been in the military and also been a policeman.

 

I stopped and looked at him with suspicion. He laughed, “Don’t worry. I am not a police officer now. I do other work for the government, but I cannot tell you about it so don’t ask me. Let’s just have some fun tonight.”

 

We proceeded up the stairs and into a nicely furnished bedroom. Tristan put his arms around me and hugged me close. He was quite a bit taller than me and he buried his nose in my hair. I could hear him take a deep breath and sigh with pleasure.

 

“I love your smell,” he said. “It is like a deep musky man smell with a hint of leather. We are going to make very passionate love tonight.”

 

My penis was leaking pre-cum and pushing hard against my jeans. It needed to escape and I was more than ready to oblige Tristan. He pulled me over to the bed and then picked me up and laid me in the bed. He leaned over me and planted his beautiful lips on mine. I relaxed in his arms and let his tongue probe deep into my mouth. I floated in ecstasy.

 

Tristan kissed my chin and then began to work his way down my neck. I could feel his fingers undoing my belt and unbuttoning my jeans. I put my hands on his head and held it close to my face breathing deeply and becoming intoxicated with his smell. It was a deep masculine smell.

 

Tristan pulled back holding my arms and raising me up off the bed. He pulled my leather jacket off and I helped him remove his. I stared in awe at his perfect hard chest and rock hard six pack abs. He smiled and pulled my t-shirt off. My jeans had dropped below my knees and Tristan knelt down and started chewing on my swollen package through my bikini underwear. I was dripping pre-cum and beginning to shake in anticipation of the pleasure I knew would soon follow.

 

We stripped each other of our remaining clothes and Tristan took my cock into his mouth and began working his head up and down. My cock slid down his moist throat and I shuddered in delight. I had to pull out after a minute as I was about to ejaculate and I wanted to stay aroused as long as I could. Tristan would not stop though. He turned me around and began to lap my ass. His tongue worked into my crack and soon was probing my hole. I could not control myself. Tristan sensing that I was about to cum pulled back and left me on the edge of a tremendous orgasm.

 

He pushed me onto the bed and pulled my legs up around his shoulders. He was huge and he drove his dick into my already hungry ass with a single thrust. I screamed in delight as I felt him penetrate deep inside me. He began pumping and I was no longer in control. My cock began to squirt, shooting wad after wad straight into the air. My cum landing on my chest, face and hair. I nearly passed out as I felt all my energy drain away. I could see Tristan’s dark eyes penetrating into mine and a deep satisfied smile on his lips.

 

Tristan reached orgasm just as I was spent and I felt his load shoot deep inside me, warm and thick. He pulled out and climbed onto the bed letting himself fall next to me breathing hard and wet with sweat. I rolled onto him and began to lick his broad shoulders lapping his delicious sweat. He turned over and began to lick the cum off my face and soon he both fell into a deep content sleep wrapped in each others arms.

 

I woke to the sensation of a tongue flicking around my pierced tits. My fuck tool was already rising to a strong erection. Soon Tristan and I were again tangled in the hot sweaty action of sucking, fucking, and kissing. I shot my load again this time into his mouth and he drank every drop. We drifted off to sleep again.

 

A third time during the night we woke and made love. This time both fucking each other before finally too exhausted we fell asleep until late in the morning. I was in heaven.

 

Morning came too soon. I was exhausted, but still felt more fulfilled than I had in years. Tristan had held me in his arms much of the night in between each of our love making sessions. I did not want to get up, but nature was calling and slowly I lifted his arms off of me and slid out of bed to use the bathroom.

 

When I came back into the bedroom, Tristan was awake and smiled broadly at me. He said, “I am going to have to leave shortly for work. I have a long day ahead of me. You can shower, eat breakfast, and take your time. My manservant will be here soon and will help you with anything you need.”

 

I responded, “I will shower and eat, but I need to leave soon too. I am already late for work myself.” I kept thinking I should just blow off work and ask to stay the day. A manservant, wow, this guy is the ultimate.

 

Tristan got out of bed, his long beautiful cock swinging between his beefy hairy legs and he walked up to me and kissed me gently on the lips. My penis immediately rose to poke him in the leg.

 

He laughed, “Enough for now. If we start again, neither of us will ever get out of the house.”

 

He pulled away from me and walked into the bathroom. He turned in the doorway and said, “I would love to have you shower with me, but not today. There is another bathroom down the hall. Use it.”

 

I said, “Hey, you sure you cannot tell me about your work? I would like to know more about you and certainly see you again.”

 

“Sorry, but I cannot tell you anything about my work. Just be warned, if you want to see more of me, you must never ask me about what I do. Just stay out of trouble and you will never have to worry about me. If you ever get into trouble, then I may end up being your worst enemy. You seem nice, but a night of fucking is not going to get you inside my head yet. I may call you in a few days, just leave your number. Goodbye, for now.” Tristan closed the door to the bathroom.

 

I stood staring at the door for a while wondering if I would ever see this beautiful man again. He seemed so trusting, but I realized soon enough that we were not alone in the house. As I showered in the bathroom down the hall, a voice called out to me. It was not Tristan’s. The voice asked what I wanted to eat and that I would find my clothes all neatly laid out in the adjacent bedroom.

 

I did not see Tristan again that morning. Breakfast was all set in the dining room. I ate in silence. As I finished breakfast a man entered the dining room. He was tall and dark and dressed in military fatigues. He told me that he was to see me out. He had a menacing look in his eyes. He did not threaten me, but I got the impression that he did not want me around the house much longer. I got up to leave. The man saw me to the door. I drove away with the feeling I was being watched until I had exited the grounds of what appeared to be a large estate now that it was light out.

 

Anthony’s Downfall

 

A couple of days had passed since my encounter with Tristan. I had spent my work days and nights in a dreamy state reliving the night I had spent with him. I realized though that I needed to continue looking for Jonathan.

 

After closing the store the next night, I again changed into my leather jacket, jeans, and boots. I figured I would try the gay section of town again. I had noticed that the park was still closed when I had walked near it during lunch. Something serious must have happened there.

 

Hopefully Jonathan would turn up again. I might even turn a trick as good as Tristan if I could not find Jonathan. I hoped I would hear from Tristan. I also knew that I could not go too much long with out an id as it was hard to buy anything legally. I would have to do something soon to get some new id.

 

As I walked out of the store I was confronted by a flood of light shining on me. I heard footsteps running and was hit in the legs from behind and fell to the ground. A body dropped onto me pushing my head to the pavement and then more footsteps sounded around me. I struggled and looked up. I was surrounded by policemen. One was leaning over and holding my arms behind my back. Another was on my legs. A third had a gun pointed at me.

 

A voice said, “Anthony Carmenio you are under arrest.” The words shocked me. I thought of Ethan and that they had traced me.

 

The rest was a nightmare. I was cuffed and rough handled into a police car. The night was spent in an interrogation room being questioned by detectives. I could not understand why they had arrested me since no mention was made of Ethan, but it soon became apparent. A Marine named Santiago had been murdered in the park near the store. He had been beaten and strangled and one of my ids was found nearby.

 

For two days I was held in a cell with no contact. I was stripped of my possessions except for my underwear and boots. I felt awful. Finally, I was allowed to speak with an attorney. He had been appointed to represent me. I was glad that he brought a shirt and trousers for me to wear. He had been to my apartment. The police had taken over the place and had searched it. They had given my court appointed attorney access to my possessions.

 

Before I could even ask him what was going on, he told me that I was in deep trouble. Besides my id being near the scene of the crime, my DNA had been recovered from Santiago’s body in the form of semen and hair. The DNA on Santiago matched the DNA coded on my id. He also told me that I was accused of raping another young man the same night. The man, Jonathan Hemmich said I had attacked him in the park, raped him, and tried to strangle him.

 

There was also a witness, another Marine. He had seen a man with a leather jacket running out of the park. It was dark, but the detectives felt that it helped add to the evidence they had.

 

I was shocked. It was not possible, but I soon realized that Jonathan was the killer. He had taken my id the night when we had sex. He had my cum all over his ass and legs and had pulled his clothes on without cleaning up. He had left my apartment during the night while I was sleeping. He had killed Santiago. I remember him saying that he would get back at Santiago.

 

I told the attorney my story. He looked at me in disbelief. He told me that Jonathan had been picked up and questioned since his DNA in the form of hair was found on Santiago also. Jonathan claimed it must have been on me from when I attacked him and then got on Santiago’s body.

 

It seems the detectives believed Jonathan as he did have nasty bruise marks on his neck and had cried and made a good show of being a victim. They added multiple charges of sexual assault and rape onto the murder charge I was already facing. They were trying to portray me as a predator.

 

The rest was a blur. I was held in jail for six months. I had to wear a course material tan prison shirt and trousers. I was upset when they took my boots and gave me white canvas slip on sneakers to wear on my feet. It was humiliating being treated like a criminal. I thought it ironic that I was being held for a murder that I did not commit and no one yet knew anything about Ethan as far as I could tell. I dreamed mostly of Tristan. The one night with him had been heaven.

 

The trial was a sham. I did not testify as my attorney felt that the prosecutor would ask me too many questions about why I was drifting around, how come I had two ids, how had I stayed out of the military. The prosecutor painted a picture of me as a drifter and up to no good anyway.

 

The Marine testified about seeing a man running from the park in a leather jacket. The prosecutor showed my leather jacket as proof. My attorney counter argued that anyone could have been wearing a leather jacket. I think the jury recognized the possibility, but they saw the Marine as a very credible witness and it just added to the atmosphere of convincing them I was guilty. I think the Marine may have been distorting what he saw. He looked at me as he testified and I could see the hate in his eyes. He was handsome though. It was funny that I could find him attractive and yet know that his testimony might help condemn me. I even found myself recalling a Marine I had met years ago. We had carried on for a couple of months until he had been sent overseas.

 

Jonathan did not testify directly, but the prosecutor had Jonathan’s statements from when he had been questioned. During the course of the trial I found out from my attorney that Jonathan had been arrested and charged with murder also. He had been accused of giving his friend an overdose of drugs. The friend’s name was Bayard, the punk I had encountered the night I met Tristan. How ironic I thought.

 

The prosecutor did not think Jonathan’s appearance in court would be helpful and they only used his statement. My attorney tried to bring up the issue of Jonathan being arrested, but the prosecutor argued that it was not relevant since my DNA had been found on the victim’s body proving rape. Jonathan’s statement was just additional proof even if Jonathan was facing other unrelated charges. The prosecutor argued that Jonathan may very well be an accused criminal, but that the detectives believed he had been attacked by me. The detectives did testify and they apparently seemed credible to the jury.

 

It did not go well. My DNA, Jonathan’s statement, the Marine’s testimony, and the fact that a marine had been killed all sealed my fate. I tried to impress the jury by dressing in my nice suits and shoes. I had my haircut short too. It all failed.

 

The judge allowed this sham and the jury could only reach one conclusion. I still remember the chill that went through me as I stood while the jury foreman read the verdict. The words, “Guilty” were repeated for all the charges. I felt sick.

 

The sentencing phase was even worse and finally I stood in court to receive formal sentences from the judge. I tried to look the best I could. I wore my best suit. It was slim and gray. I had on a conservative blue shirt and red tie. I wore my nicely polished slim black leather cap toed oxfords.

 

I had to stand on a raised docket in front of the judge. I was trembling. Two court guards stood on either side of me. My hand and legs were shackled and chained to a leather belt that was locked around my waist. The shackles, belt, and chains pulled on my clothes and made my suit appear to be ill fitting. It upset me as I always took pains to look trim and well dressed when wearing a suit.

 

The judge entered the chambers and sat at the bench. He read some documents then looked up at me. He had a hard look on his face. I feared the worse.

 

“Anthony Vincent Carmenio do you have anything you would like to say before I pass sentence,” the judge asked? I shook my head no not knowing what I could say that would help.

 

“Anthony Vincent Carmenio, you have been found guilty on two counts of sexual assault, one count of first degree rape, one count of first degree felony murder, and one count of first degree premeditated murder. The rape and murder charges are capital crimes carrying sentences of life with out parole or death. The jury has recommended a sentence of death.”

 

The judge paused and looked at me. He shook his head and said, “I have carefully reviewed all the relevant information about your crimes and think that you are a dangerous man and would commit more crimes. You must be removed from society and justice must be served.”

 

“Anthony Vincent Carmenio, I sentence you to be removed to the State’s Central Maximum Security Prison where you are to be held until your appeals are heard and then at a time and on a date named by the court, you shall be put to death for each of the capital crimes for which you have been convicted. May God have mercy on your soul. Further, I am signing the orders to have you transferred to death row immediately.”

 

I was stunned. I expected this outcome, but hearing the words made me numb. I was doomed. I felt weak. The guards took hold of my arms and led me from the court room. I was immediately taken to a van and seated in a cage inside the van and chained to it. I was taken to prison.

 

Death Row

 

After a ride through town and into the country, we arrived at the prison. It was a sprawling complex of buildings set amongst rolling hills. Some of the buildings were old and fortress like and others were more modern and stark. High concrete walls, high chain link fences, and trenches surrounded the buildings. We drove through two gates and down a road past a group of modern buildings. The van stopped in front of a large castle like building with two long wings extending from a central structure. It had a huge steel door. The building looked old, but kept in good condition. A sign posted above the door said “Death Row” in big black letters.

 

I was hustled out of the van and turned over to two massive guards who led me through the steel doors into an entrance area. The guards were wearing olive uniform fatigues and crisply pressed uniform shirts with black arm bands with white letters that said death row. They had highly polished black leather combat boots with white laces on their feet. Their dress was military perfect and I was soon to find that all was military perfect on death row. The row was stark and sterile. I would be controlled in my every movement.

 

They walked fast pulling me into a long hall. I stumbled from the ankle cuffs as they led me down the hall. My suit jacket tore as the guards kept pulling me hard and I cried out for them to stop. My protest was met with a swift punch to the face followed by a kick from one of the guard’s combat boots into my stomach. I collapsed and they dragged me down the hall, tearing my jacket further.

 

Near the end of the hall we turned into a doorway. The room beyond was barren and the guards threw me to the floor. Within moments more guards entered carrying various cases with equipment in them. I was pulled up pushed against a wall and photographed. This was followed by having my fingerprints taken and then the guards cut off my clothes. I began to sob as they ruined my nice suit. One guard pulled my tie so hard that I began to strangle and he finally ripped it off my neck. My oxfords were removed and everything was placed in a garbage bag and taken away.

 

I lay shivering on the floor wearing only the shackles. Two guards pulled me up, a third held my head, and a fourth took electric shears and proceeded to roughly shave my head. Once this was done I was led out into the hall again and taken into another room which contained a shower. The guards pushed me into the shower and ordered me to soap and rinse. It was hard to do with my hands cuffed and they only gave me a couple of minutes to wash before turning off the water and pulling me out.

 

Dripping and shivering I was forced to stand as I was examined by a physician. I was toweled off by two of the guards. They were rough. I felt my cock stir and received a kick in the balls which doubled me over in pain when one of the guards noticed my arousal. I was unshackled and handed an orange pair of overalls, white socks, and black work boots, which I put on. I was then reshackled, led into the hall, and taken into a small office. Standing there was a man also dressed in fatigues, but wearing several metals on his chest. He was holding a folder with my name on it.

 

He approached me and said, “My name is Warden Thomas and you Anthony Vincent Carmenio are a condemned man. You will likely have about a year before we carry out your sentence on the gallows. I am in charge of death row. You will follow my rules and die by my rules. If you do not, then you will pray for your execution date to come as I will make your life hell. Do you understand?”

 

I gulped and mumbled, “Yes.”

 

My response was met with a sharp jerk of my shackles by one of the guards. The guard said, “You will say Sir at the beginning and end of everything you say, dead man. Now answer the Warden.”

 

I quickly said, “Sir, Yes, I understand sir.”

 

Warden Thomas smiled and said, “Good. I think you will hang easily. Your file shows that you are a no good faggot and deserve to have your neck stretched. We here will be glad to oblige.”

 

I was then led to the death row cell block. It was in one of the wings. After walking past a number of cells with occupants, I was placed in a small cell with a cot, steel sink, and steel toilet. I was unshackled. The guards closed the cell door and left me.

 

I looked out of the cell. It faced a concrete wall with high windows. I could not see the other cells on either side of me. Guards patrolled the hall cell block. I soon found out that no talking was allowed. I was alone and it was quiet other than the footfalls of the guards’ big combat boots.

 

The days passed in an endless succession of waking to the guards coming around and making each inmate exit his cell, strip, and being roughly searched. They would poke and probe me to see if I was hiding any contraband. I received two meals a day, breakfast and an early dinner. I was allowed to shower and given a shave every other day. Exercise was allowed in an outdoor pen each day and when the whether was bad I exercised in a large barren room, which passed for a gym. I ran, did push-ups sit-ups, and other exercises to stay trim. It was easy since I was not fed enough and I became thin and toned.

 

My nights were mostly restless. I would dream of Ethan, Jonathan, and Tristan. Sometimes I would be hanged in my dreams and Tristan would rescue me. I masturbated regularly.

 

I was watched all the time. Guards patrolled by my cell every few minutes and when I was showering I was watched by two or more guards. One guard would watch me when I was in the outdoor pen or indoor gym. A closed circuit television ensured that if I should try and attack a guard, the room would quickly be filled with other guards.

 

The only change in the daily routine occurred when a new inmate arrived or was removed to be hanged. I would see the inmates pass my cell. Since the inmates were not allowed to talk, I never knew what exactly was going on. The only other time I could see other inmates was when I was led by the guards to the shower or exercise area. I would get a brief look at the other condemned men as I passed their cells. They would return my look and we could only read each others eyes. The looks were often of fear, despair, and, longing.

 

Every couple of weeks, the attorney that had been appointed to represent me through my appeals would call. The news was never good. My case was working its way through the system and there was little chance I would survive more than a year.

 

One guard named Brain Eastman did seem to take an interest in me. I noticed that he seemed to end up escorting me and watching me in the gym more often then not. He was a brute. His face was not handsome, but his muscles and hairy arms were attractive. He talked to me periodically about what was going on outside the prison and would tell me about new inmates and about the executions. I asked him to describe them. He provided details and that excited me, but also left me knowing I would face the same soon enough.

 

About three months into my stay on death row, I was in the gym, he approached me and said, “Carmenio, you are to be given a check-up today.” I looked at him with doubt as I had been examined recently, but he cuffed me and led me from the gym and into a storage room. It was an isolated room with no cameras. I knew immediately what was coming as there was an obvious bulge in the crotch of his combat fatigues.

 

Brian uncuffed me and ordered me to strip. I did as told. He then proceeded to strike me nearly senseless with his baton. I fell to the floor. He raped me. It was brutal. At first I was aroused as his massive cock penetrated my ass, but soon it was too much. He twisted my arms and thrust into me so hard I cried out.

 

My screams were met with a fist in the jaw and I lapsed into semi-consciousness. When it was over I could not even stand. Brian cuffed me and dragged me to an isolation cell. I was naked. I was bruised and bloody. I was left in isolation for a couple of days. None of the other guards questioned my bruises. Brian raped me a couple of more times over the next two months and then he disappeared. I did not know what became of him, but was glad he was gone.

 

Ten months on death row and I knew my time was running out. The final court appeal had been filed and my attorney told me that there would likely be a ruling within a few weeks. If my sentence was upheld, then a death warrant would be issued by a judge setting a date thirty days later for my execution. I became depressed, but found that I was constantly having an erection when I thought about the gallows.

 

A Surprise

 

It is funny how events that happen and people you meet come full circle. I was in the pen one day shortly after my attorney told me about my final appeal. A second guard entered the pen with another inmate. I stopped my jogging around the outside of the pen to see what was going on. I was on the opposite side of the pen and could not make out the other guard or inmate very clearly. The guards conferred briefly with each other and approached me, leaving the other inmate cuffed at the entrance to the pen.

 

The guard that was watching me said, “There is a change in the routine. You will be allowed to exercise with another inmate today. The reason this is being done is that death row has become overcrowded and we cannot get all the inmates through the pen for regular exercise without doubling some of you up. You may talk to the other inmate, but if there is any trouble you will be sent to isolation.”

 

The guards both walked back to the entrance and uncuffed the inmate. They stood outside the pen entrance and watched. I stood for a while eyeing the inmate. He looked familiar. He began walking toward me and we both recognized each other at the same time. I was really surprised.

 

It was Jonathan. He looked thinner than ever and his long blonde hair was buzzed very short. I at first stood staring at him in surprise. He smiled that beautiful perfect white teeth smile of his and stopped a few feet in front of me.

 

I started to shake my head at him and felt my blood boil. He was the reason I was here. The fucking little bastard. I was tempted to strike him, but held myself in check knowing the guards would beat me severely if I attacked Jonathan.

 

Jonathan saw the angry look in my eyes and said, “Please do not be angry at me Anthony. I was frightened and did not mean to get you in trouble.”

 

I replied, “You fucking piece of shit. I am going to die because of your crimes. I should not be here. You lied to save yourself at my expense. I hate you.”

 

Jonathan’s mouth turned into the pout I remembered seeing before and he squatted down before me and began to cry. “I am going to die too. I did not mean for Bayard to die. He took too many drugs. I should not be punished because he over dosed. Both of us should not be here.”

 

“You should be here. You killed Santiago,” I said. “I should not. I want you to tell your attorney, the warden, everyone what happened. You can save me.”

 

Jonathan shook his head, “No, I cannot do that. I would have to admit to killing the Marine and then I would hang for sure. There is a chance that I may get my sentence changed to life without parole. The ruling on my final appeal is due soon.”

 

I knelt in front of Jonathan and spoke with desperation in my voice, “My final appeal is almost over too. You must tell the truth if your final appeal is turned down. Will you do that?”

 

Jonathan looked at me, smiled, and said, “I cannot, that would mean that I would die. There is a chance that I could have my sentence commuted right up to the end. Any admission of guilt would seal my fate for sure.”

 

I shook my head and trembled, wanting to strike him. Jonathan was so selfish and he was deluding himself probably to keep from losing all hope. There was no way that he would be reprieved. The courts viewed people like him with contempt and would not have mercy. I knew that I was doomed, but at least I now knew that the man who had put me here, Jonathan, would likely hang soon too.

 

I stood up and walked away from Jonathan back to the pen entrance and told the guard I wanted to go back to my cell. I did not want to ever see Jonathan again, but I dreamed about him that night. I began to feel sorry for him over the next few days and his pretty face was always on my mind. I also dreamed and masturbated thinking about Tristan.

 

A week later, I received the news that my final appeal was over. My sentences had been upheld. The judge had signed my death warrant. I would hang in just under a month.

 

Back to Death Watch and Anthony’s Prep for Hanging

 

I returned from my reverie. It had been a long wild eighteen months. It was unfair, but I was guilty of hanging Ethan. I should not have killed Ethan. I had liked him, lost control. I liked Jonathan, but he had been even more flawed than me. I liked Tristan, but would never see him again.

 

I had always ached for a companion, but always found flawed people. I of course was flawed as was all of this society. I had made my own life what it was and now would pay for never having put a check on myself. I had been driven by my uncontrolled sexual desires and fantasies about execution and now would finally pay the price by literally dying in a fantasy of my own making.

 

I sat up on the cot and continued to finger my penis. I wondered how soon the guards would come to prepare me for execution. I had been in this cell for five days. Other than a shower and shave I had not left it. I lay back thinking about what my last statement would be. Would I even be allowed to make one? I had to tell everyone what had happened. The truth, that Jonathan was the real killer, not me. I wondered if Jonathan was still alive.

 

My wait was not long. The door to the death watch chamber opened and in strode Warden Thomas followed by three burly guards in their press perfect fatigues and shiny black leather combat boots. A shiver ran through me and my stomach churned. One guard opened the cell door and the other two came in and took my arms, pulling me up off the cot and led me out. They secured cuffs around my wrists and ankles and held me in front of the warden.

 

He said, “Condemned Offender Anthony Vincent Carmenio, I have here your death warrant.” He held up a legal document. “I am required to read it to you before your execution. It says:

 

Where as, in our Judicial Branch, Session 394, Case 205-769, our courts did find one said Anthony Vincent Carmenio guilty of the crimes of first degree rape and murder, and,

 

Where as, our courts did sentence one said Anthony Vincent Carmenio to suffer the sentence of death on the gallows for the crimes he was convicted of, and,

 

Where as, our courts having upheld the criminal convictions and sentences of one said Anthony Vincent Carmenio, I the honorable Davis Markham, presiding judge do hereby execute this death warrant in accordance with the law.

 

Therefore, you the Honorable Prescott Thomas, Warden of the Central Maximum Security Prison are hereby directed to execute the sentence of death upon one said Anthony Vincent Carmenio thirty days from receipt of this warrant.

 

Upon execution of the sentence of death upon one said Anthony Vincent Carmenio, you will return the warrant with a copy of the death certificate attached and a report on the execution of the sentence as carried out.”

 

Warden Thomas folded the death warrant and put it in his shirt pocket. He looked at me, and said, “I am sorry that this day has come for you. The guards here and I have a job to do. It is our legal responsibility to carry out your death sentence. You will not resist the procedures that we must conduct to prepare you for the gallows. If you do, we will use whatever force is necessary and you will suffer all the way to the end. Do you understand me?”

 

I gulped, and said, “Sir, I understand and I will not resist. Sir.” I then felt my knees weaken and thought I was going to faint. I struggled to stay up and found the guards supporting me. I was ashamed of my weakness. My cock stayed hard the whole time.

 

“Warden Thomas said, “Good. You will now be prepared by the guards.” He stepped out of the death watch chamber and the guards led me out and down the hall.

 

I was brought into a room which contained a chair, sink, toilet, and shower. One wall of the room contained a window with mirrored glass, which reflected my sorry state. I was a thin young man clad in an orange pair of overalls and cuffed between two very large guards. I looked away from my reflection and I figured that the procedures were going to be observed by people on the other side.

 

There were also three tables in the room along one wall. On one table were several barber shears, towels, shaving cream, and a razor. On the second table there was a container of lube, a butt plug, latex gloves, a white uniform shirt and trousers folded neatly, and a pair of black leather military or navy oxfords. The third table contained a fingerprint kit and photographic equipment.

 

I cringed at the sight of all these implements knowing that the preparations for my hanging were not going to be pleasant. The guards seated me in the chair and another guard entered the room. He appeared to be of higher rank.

 

He proceeded to take the shears and began to shave my head. He ran the clippers up the sides and back of my head. I was seated facing the mirror and watched as my hair fell away until it was fine stubble. The guard then ran the clippers across the top of my head leaving a narrow cap of short hair on the top.

 

He picked up a second pair of clippers and used them to shave the sides and back bare and trim the top a little more. The guard than lathered the sides and back of my head and shaved them with the razor. He proceeded to do the same with my face. When he was done, I was pulled out of the chair and the wrist and ankle cuffs were removed.

 

The guard said, “Remove your clothes, leave them on the floor, and get in the shower.” I stripped removing my overall’s, socks, and boots.

 

The guards controlled the water. It was barely warm and I was given only a few minutes to soap and rinse. I was handed a towel to dry with. I noticed that my clothes were gone. They had been removed while I was showering and my clipped hair had been cleaned from the floor around the chair.

 

The guard said, “Bend over and place your hands on the edge of the chair. Do not move or we will make this hurt more than it has to. I felt hands on my ass spreading my butt checks. I gloved finger spread lube on my ass and then the butt plug that had been on the table was pressed into my fuck hole. I grunted and felt the butt plug slide in. It pressed on my prostate and my cock grew harder.

 

“There, now you won’t shit yourself when you hang. You will probably cum and piss though, but that will just run into the pit under the gallows and is easy to clean up,” the guard said. I stayed bent over and shivering. My hard cock wagging back and forth.

 

“Stand up and get dressed,” the guard ordered. I walked over to the table with the clothes and took the white shirt. It was short sleeved and contained velcro tabs for fasteners on the front. I put it on and secured the tabs. It was snug. I pulled on the white trousers. They too were snug, a little short in the legs, and secured at the waist with a velcro tab. They were pressed with creases and contained no pockets. I had to pull my cock up in the trousers so that it was pointing straight up before I secured them. It made my erection more comfortable. I then took the shoes off the table. They were polished to a dull shine and I put them on my feet.

 

As I pulled the laces to tie them, the guard said, “Tie them tight or they will fall off your feet when you hang.” I looked up at him with a glower. He smiled, and said, “Do it or else.” I complied and pulled the laces tight and tied them. I stood up and saw myself in the window mirror.

 

I looked like a military recruit or a sailor, dressed in all white with a very high and tight crew cut. I felt my cock stir more and thought that I would rather have been hanged in my leather jacket and boots.

 

The guard then said, “Stand against the wall.” He pointed to where he wanted me to stand. One of the other guards picked up the camera and took several pictures of me. I had to face the camera and then have profile shots taken also. The final step was having my fingerprints taken. My wrists were cuffed, but this time behind my back and my ankles also cuffed. The guards then seated me in the chair and stood behind me.

 

The door opened and in strode Tristan. I jumped up in shock. The guards behind me quickly grabbed me and roughly pushed me back into the chair.

 

I cried out, “Tristan! What are you……?” My words trailed off. I stared dumbfounded. Tristan was dressed in a black combat uniform with long leather gloves extending all the way up his arms. He looked like a ninja fighter. His combat boots were spit shined. His eyes penetrated into mine and I felt myself grow weak. Those eyes were the eyes I had often dreamed off, but now I knew that they were not going to save me. I wanted to vomit and I leaned over and began to gasp.

 

Tristan stepped up to the chair and placed his hand on my chin pushing my head back and he leaned in close. He spoke to the guards. “Please leave the room. I want to examine the condemned man in private.” The guards did as Tristan asked.

 

Tristan waited until they were gone, then said, “You sorry little piece of shit. I was really surprised when your name showed up on the execution list a few days ago. I had forgotten all about you until then. When I saw your name, I remembered the one night stand we had. Just one of many that I have had, but I have never hanged one of my tricks before.”

 

I gasped and tried to pull away, but Tristan’s big hand gripped my chin tightly and his other hand was pressing my chest back into the chair. I tried to speak, but could not. I began to cry uncontrollably. Tristan was the executioner. He had never told me what his job was and I knew why. I felt sick. He was going to hang me.

 

“I have been watching you in the death watch cell and while you were being prepared,” Tristan said. You still look good. Too bad, I would like to fuck you again. I have read your record, you deserve to have your neck stretched and I am glad to be the one to do it.”

 

I continued to cry. Tristan ignored my sobs and tilted my head back further running his hands around my neck and examining me. “You will die with a struggle. You have a fairly strong neck for a little shit. The short drop we use never breaks the condemned’s neck. I always enjoy watching them dance.”

 

He released me and continued to talk, “I would rather see you hang nude, but we cannot do that with the witnesses watching. Instead you have to wear the queer white sailor like outfit. It seems one of the officials here at the prison thinks the condemned should die looking pure in white.”

 

I blubbered out, “How can you do this to me. We had sex and I liked you. It’s not right and I am innocent anyway. I did not kill anyone. It was Jonathan Hemmich. Have you hanged him yet? You must know him here on death row. He did it……”

 

I stopped as Tristan had started laughing. He said, “You cannot even tell a good lie, but don’t worry, your wiry friend Jonathan is going to dance today too. You probably didn’t know that. Both your death warrants were signed on the same day. Jonathan was in here a little while ago being prepared. He cried even more than you did.”

 

This second piece of information was too much for me. I slumped in the chair and felt like I was choking. My brain could not process all this information. I was overwhelmed. I gagged and just shook my head back and forth.

 

Tristan leaned in close again and said, “You were a good fuck, but you killed a Marine and I used to be a Marine. I am going to enjoy my job more than ever today. Hanging Jonathan and you will be the most fun I have had since I hanged that fucking piece of shit Brian Eastman.”

 

I started at the mention of Brian’s name and looked up at Tristan with a questioning look in my eyes. Tristan laughed, “Yeah you might have known him from death row. He was a guard here. Turned out he was abusing the inmates. He killed two of them and tried to make it look like they had committed suicide. He confessed to his crimes so his appeals went really fast. I hanged him about a month ago. He was such a brute. His neck was too strong. He must have danced for a good ten minutes. What a show.”

 

I shook and again slumped over. Now I was really overwhelmed. My whole world and even the people I had encountered were all closing in to this one final day. I shook my head.

 

Tristan laughed again, “Don’t worry Carmenio. You probably will not dance for more than a minute before you shoot your wad and then die. It will be quick. See you in about an hour for the show.” With that Tristan left the room.

 

The guards came back in and I was roughly pulled up from the chair and taken to a small holding cell nearby. It was barren except for a chair. I sat on it stunned at all that was happening. I thought again about how ironic all the events I had experienced were. All the people I had encountered somehow were related through all the events I had been through leading to this final day. It seemed that there were zero degrees of separation between all the people in my life. I had really thought Tristan was a god and wanted him so bad. I guess he is a god in a twisted way since he was about to take my life. I wanted it all to be over right then and there. I sat in despair waiting for the end.

 

The Gallows

 

The hour passed quickly. My mind was numb. I was sweating and my erection pounded. The guards that had prepared me came to the holding cell and took me by the arms. They led me down a hall I had never been in. It led toward the death chamber. I had a hard time walking. My legs were weak and the cuffs prevented me from taking more than small steps. There were photos along the wall. I glanced at them. They were photos of inmates in white shirts and trousers and black shoes. The photos were labeled with names and dates of execution. I realized that they were the final photos of all the inmates that had been hanged. Mine would be here soon too. There must have been a hundred photos.

 

The guards led me past the door to the death chamber. I wondered why. I was led into a small witness or viewing room that looked into the death chamber through a glass wall. The death chamber was a big room. It reminded me of the death chamber when I had seen Darrick’s execution. There were apparently several witness rooms all next to each other looking into the death chamber.

 

I was seated on a bench and guards stood on either side of me. I wondered why I was being brought here. The death chamber was brightly lit. The center of the room was dominated by the gallows. It was a large wooden platform. It had five steps that led up on each side. A large hinged drop door was raised off the front of it. It appeared to be supported on steel beams that could slide under the main platform allowing the door to swing down over a pit. The pit was not large, but appeared to be large enough to allow the door to swing down and let the condemned man drop over the pit. There were two gurneys placed along one of the side walls. Several guards also stood along each side wall.

 

On the gallows platform Warden Thomas was standing with a man in a navy blue suit. He had a stethoscope around his neck and I assumed he must be the prison doctor. I shuddered, but then my cock twitched and I had to shift on the bench to stay comfortable.

 

I stared at the noose hanging over the drop door. It was menacing. The hemp rope was coiled with thirteen loops. The rope ran back from the high crossbeam above the drop door to the wall and through a hook down the wall to a cleat where it was fastened. Tristan stood at the back of the gallows near the cleat and next to a large steel lever.

 

A large door was opened to the side of the death chamber and in walked two guards with Jonathan between them. I gasped. I was going to witness Jonathan’s death and I wondered if Tristan had arranged it or if it was standard procedure for one condemned inmate to see another hanged when more than one execution was carried out on the same day. I would never know.

 

Jonathan Hangs

 

The guards brought Jonathan into the death chamber each holding him tightly by the upper arms. Jonathan looked frightened out of his mind. His eyes were wide open darting wildly around the room looking at everyone. He was wearing a crisp white pair of trousers and shirt like I was. His trousers were much too tight and cut short ending a couple of inches above his ankles. I could see a large bulge in his crotch. His wrists were cuffed behind his back and ankles cuffs with a short chain between his legs prevented him from taking more than very short steps. He caught sight of the gallows and he sagged in the guards’ tight grip. They dragged him along, his black leather oxfords sliding along the floor. He began to shake as the guards reached the steps of the gallows.

 

Jonathan cried out, “Please don’t hang me. I do not want to die. I am sorry.” One of the guards told him to shut up and they yanked him up by the arms. Jonathan choked back a sob and cried out, “Please, oh please do not do this to me. I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt anyone or be bad. I will not do it again.”

 

The guards pulled Jonathan up and literally carried him up the five steps onto the gallows platform. They carried him over to the large drop door on the front of the gallows and positioned him in the middle of it. One guard had to wrap his arms around Jonathan’s torso to hold him up.

 

I thought to myself that this was not the smart mouthed punk that I once knew. He was just a kid afraid to die and unable to control himself. I could see he was near fainting as he hyperventilated and hung in the arms of the guard, tears running down his face. His beautiful eyes were wide with fear and his thin lips were pressed tight as he tried not to cry.

 

He was a sight. The beautiful long blonde hair was gone, shaved down to a high and tight military crew cut. The leather and punk boots I remembered him wearing when we met replaced by the white execution clothes and black oxfords. I realized that I looked much the same and looked down to see my own tight white trousers, shirt, and black oxfords. My stomach churned and my cock throbbed. I too was frightened, but uncontrollably aroused.

 

Warden Thomas stepped up to Jonathan and said, “Condemned Offender Jonathan Michael Hemmich, you were convicted of the crimes of 1st degree felony murder and 1st degree felony drug trafficking and sentenced to suffer the pain of death for these crimes by being hanged by the neck until dead. Your criminal convictions and sentences have been upheld upon appeal and under the death warrant issued by the court; it is my duty as warden of the State’s Central Maximum Security Prison to execute the sentence of death upon you at this time. Do you Condemned Offender Jonathan Michael Hemmich have a final statement before your sentence is carried out?”

 

Jonathan seemed to try and stand up, but his legs kept buckling and the guard held him up. He made a sobbing noise, tears still running down his face, as he shook his head. The warden stepped away and Tristan stepped up to Jonathan and whispered something in his ear. Jonathan stiffened and his eyes widened with a horror filled look. Tristan quickly pulled the black hood over Jonathan’s head and then pulled the rope over the hood and adjusted the noose around his neck, cinching the knot tight to the front of his left ear below his chin. The hood billowed in and out as Jonathan breathed hard and I could hear him begin to make a whining sound like a wounded animal.

 

Tristan stepped back to the release lever at the back of the gallows and the guard holding Jonathan around the torso quickly stepped off the drop door. Tristan yanked the lever and the drop door swung down with a loud bang and Jonathan dropped about a half a meter. Jonathan’s whining turned to a scream as he dropped. It was cut off a second later by a sickening guttural noise, his throat crushed as the noose cinched tight around his neck at the end of the short drop. He jerked to a halt.

 

The noose pulled his head back. For just a moment, he hung there motionless and then he began to struggle. Jonathan’s legs kicked out wildly pulling against the ankle cuffs, but not able to spread more than the short length of chain linking the cuffs. He twisted on the rope and I could see his arms pulling up his back with his fingers clawing the air and wrists yanking on the cuffs. A rasping strangling noise could still be heard from under the hood.

 

He twisted back around on the rope and I could see a large wet spot growing in his trousers where his hard penis was tenting them out. He was having an orgasm. His hips bucked. He was cumming hard as the wet spot grew large staining much of his crotch up to the waistband of his trousers.

 

Jonathan continued to struggle for what seemed like forever, but was probably not more than a minute before his body seemed to suddenly stop moving and he dangled limply on the rope. A few seconds later a spasm ran through his body jerking his arms and legs and causing his black oxfords to twitch a couple of times, and then he was still.

 

A yellow stain began to grow and replace the wet cum stain in his crotch and urine soon soaked through and ran down his legs splashing off his shoes and into the pit over which he was hanging.

 

Another spasm ran down his limp form ending in a twitch of his shoes and Jonathan was still, his body swinging slowly on the rope. I felt weak as I knew that I would soon hang from the same gallows and likely look much like Jonathan now did. Head covered by a black hood, thick hemp noose tight around my neck with my head tilted back to the side, and a large yellow stain down the bulging front of my white uniform trousers, dead.

 

I vowed to be braver. Jonathan had been terrified and broken down at the end. I did not want that. I did not want to hang, but I did not want to die like a coward. I squirmed in my seat. The anal plug kept massaging my prostate and my cock throbbed. I liked the arousal knowing I had little time left to experience pleasure, but it hurt too as my white trousers were too tight on my crotch and I could not let my cock move freely.

 

Tristan walked to the edge of the gallows platform as the guards pulled the rope in bringing Jonathan’s body back to the edge where the drop door was hinged to the gallows platform. Tristan squatted down and pulled Jonathan’s arms in toward himself and encircled his muscular leather clad arms around Jonathan’s torso. He straightened up and lifted Jonathan up so that the rope went slack. One of the guards quickly wound the slack of the rope around the cleat where the rope was fastened. Tristan then pulled down hard on Jonathan’s torso causing the noose to yank hard on his neck. I heard a distinct snapping noise as Jonathan’s head flopped to the side.

 

I gulped realizing that Tristan had broken Jonathan’s neck. Tristan let go of Jonathan and his body swung out from the platform edge, his neck clearly broken as it now appeared stretched further with the noose tight around it.

 

A couple of minutes passed. The guards pulled Jonathan’s body back to the platform edge again and held it. The prison doctor walked up to Jonathan’s hanging body and pulled the velcro tabs on the front of his white shirt open exposing his bare chest. He examined Jonathan with a stethoscope. He then turned to the warden and said, “The condemned offender is deceased.”

 

The guards then lowered Jonathan’s body down into the pit and two of the guards that had been standing to the sides of the death chamber came forward pulling one of the gurneys. They reached out over the front of the pit and pulled his body over to the edge. Up on the gallows platform, Tristan cut the rope and the guards lowered Jonathan’s body onto the gurney. His head flopped back and then to the side lying on his shoulder. His urine soaked crotch still bulged.

 

Tristan walked down from the gallows platform and loosened the noose from Jonathan’s neck. He pulled the hood off. I cringed at the sight. I had seen Ethan’s face after being hanged, but now with my own neck soon to be in a noose, I felt weak at the sight of Jonathan’s face.

 

His once beautiful eyes were bulging wide open with an empty stare. His face seemed swollen and was a purplish color. Mucus and saliva hung in a stringy mess from his nose and mouth. His tongue was extended partway out of his mouth. His neck was clearly stretched and broken. The noose had left a nasty abrasion and several dark bruises were visible under the skin.

 

I had hated Jonathan for what he had done to me, but meeting him again on death row and seeing how afraid he was had softened me. I felt sorry for him as much as I felt sorry for myself. Seeing him hang left me numb. I felt trapped. I was no better than Jonathan in many ways and faced the same end now.

 

I closed my eyes and shook as a gnawing fear began to rise inside. I breathed deeply to control my fear. In and out, concentrate. It will be alright, but I knew it would not. Everything was happening too fast. I opened my eyes. The guards had wheeled the gurney out of the death chamber. Tristan had returned to the platform and was placing another noose from the hook in the crossbeam where Jonathan had been hanged. My noose.

 

It was my turn now. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. I kept thinking this is just a dream. I am Anthony Vincent Carmenio, tough dude and although I deserve to be punished for murdering Ethan, I did not deserve to hang for a murder that Jonathan had committed.

 

My fear told me otherwise. This was not a dream and I was about to pay for crimes that I had not committed, but did deserve to be executed for other crimes. There was justice, but it was an ironic justice in a twisted unfair way.

 

Anthony Hangs

 

The guards pulled me off the bench and led me out of the witness area and into the hall and then into the death chamber. It was only a short walk to the gallows platform. My steps were small as they were restrained by the chained ankle cuffs.

 

I looked down at my black oxfords and at the guards’ big highly polished black boots with white laces. I began to feel my legs weaken as we reached the steps to the gallows. No, I thought, I cannot be weak. I willed myself to lift my shoe to the first step.

 

The guards humiliated me, by quickly walking up the steps pulling my arms so that I stumbled as the cuffs yanked at my ankles. They half walked half dragged me to the hinged dropped door. I darted my eyes between Tristan, the warden, the physician, and again to Tristan. Hangman Tristan. I filled with a rage as he smiled at me. I pulled back from the guards and glared at him. I felt a lump rise in my throat and wanted to scream out that Tristan and I had made love, but I could not get the words to form.

 

I was positioned on the drop door. I felt weak again. I stared out at all the witnesses looking in through the other witness areas. I recognized my attorney. He averted his eyes as I looked at him. I also recognized the Marine that had testified against me. He was wearing his dress blues and looked at me with a harsh stare. He seemed to be mouthing something that looked like “Fuck you.”

 

I grimaced and hung my head. My crotch was bulging and it hurt. The butt plug was forcing my erection to be extra hard and my penis throbbed in anticipation of what my mind and body knew would be a tremendous orgasm, its last and final one. I again felt a fear claw up in me and thought I might faint. Warden Thomas was at my side now and his words made me shake.

 

“Condemned Offender Anthony Vincent Carmenio, you were convicted of the crimes of 1st degree rape, 1st degree felony murder, and 1st degree premeditated murder and sentenced to suffer the pain of death for these crimes by being hanged by the neck until dead. Your criminal convictions and sentences have been upheld upon appeal and under the death warrant issued by the court; it is my duty as warden of the State’s Central Maximum Security Prison to execute the sentence of death upon you at this time. Do you Condemned Offender Anthony Vincent Carmenio have a final statement before your sentence is carried out?”

 

I gulped and raised my head up. I tried to speak and could only croak out a weak “Sir, I..….I am, sir…...” I choked back a sob and lowered my head ashamed and humiliated that I could not say more. I should say more. My final words should mean something, but words escaped my mind and I began to panic.

 

The warden stepped away and Tristan stepped in front of me. His legs brushed my bulging package and made me shutter. Tristan held the black hood over my head and leaned close. I could smell him strongly.

 

He whispered, “You will be joining Jonathan soon. We will bury together in the prison cemetery. Now put on a good show for us”.

 

I looked at him in with fear and then the hood fell thrusting me into darkness. The inside of the hood was damp and I could smell and taste Jonathan. His saliva and mucus had soaked into the hood during his death struggles minutes ago and now was pressed against my face. I choked back a sob. The rope brushed past my head and I felt it tighten around my neck. I was breathing hard now. I felt like I was going to faint. My cock was pounding and dripping pre-cum. I knew I had only seconds left.

 

Suddenly the drop door fell away underneath me. I plunged down and the noose cinched tight around my neck. An explosion of pain erupted from my neck. I tried to breath, but could not. My mouth opened and I heard a rasping noise. I was making the noise. I was trying to breath and could not. It hurt more than anything I had ever experienced.

 

I knew I was struggling. My heart pounded and my head felt as if it was going to explode. I could feel my tongue pushing out of my mouth. In the darkness of the hood my eyes saw bright red fiery light. The pain in my lungs, neck, and head began to overwhelm me as my brain screamed for oxygen.

 

My cock was rock hard and as I struggled kicking my legs and bucking my hips, my focus narrowed to the rising pressure in my loins. It kept building and then it erupted with an incredible force. I had my last orgasm. It was intense and the sensation from it overrode all the pain I was experiencing. I convulsed and shot load after load. It seemed to go on forever. The fiery vision was fading as I felt another pulse in my loins and then a spreading wetness on my legs. Numbing darkness closed in.
The end

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