Chapter 2

'They're coming!' she softly whispered to herself.

She normally wasn't that big on reading the daily newssheets but once she'd heard that the McKell Gang were robbing in her county she began to take some notice.

Each morning, she would slowly read the details of daily updates, their increasingly desperate situation. Shivering, she would take the latest newssheet and retreat into her bedroom upstairs and lie amongst the older newssheets that she'd been collecting.

She would start with the initial article. The very first report was their sighting by a witness down Barnaby Creek, then the mail coach robbery and following that - a bank in a town less than thirty miles away.

She would read through each article, scouring the updates, absorbing all the finer details, the profiles of the gang members and how old each of them were, their descriptions - she loved the written descriptions of criminals, rather than the roughly-reproduced artists' impressions. She preferred leaving their handsome features to her imagination. In many cases the descriptions would turn out inaccurate in the papers and, having hanged many of them herself, she would be the one to know.

The McKell boys were wanted in 5 counties and their gang had been on the run the longest out of any that the hangman's wife could lovingly list in her mind. They must be so wild, she thought as she fondled herself. She wanted them to continue riding closer to her, and to not get caught outside her jurisdiction. 'Come to me!', she would pray aloud to herself while she sat crosslegged on her bed wettouching the poorly printed faces of each of the McKell brothers, smearing the newsprint. 'Come to mummy!' She was 36 and the two core gang members, the McKell brothers, were in their mid-twenties.

She preferred pleasuring herself with criminals straight after their execution. She loved the feel of the gang members, the skin of their cold bodies and their strong riders' legs and thighs and what potential poked through in between. So wild and virile, she thought, as she read the latest sighting while slowly massaging her moist, throbbing clit.

She promised to herself that if fate intervened that she would not have her orgasm now, nor tomorrow, nor the next day. She would keep herself from coming if fate could promise that the gang were caught in her jurisdiction and nobody else's. Her other hand continued to stroke the newspages as she reread how desperate their plight was becoming...

It was a sharp rap on her front door that woke her from her sleep. The banging was insistent. Quickly she dressed in a gown and answered the door. It was the Sheriff with news that she had been desperate to hear for over a week of abstinence. 'We need you to start preparing the scaffold!', he said, 'The McKell gang had been involved in a shootout just 6 miles out of town'. Her heart began to weaken. 'Who was shot?' she asked. 'Not sure' he replied, 'but the 2 surviving members are being brought here for execution'.

The hangman's wife ran, her heart pumping in rhythm to her well-rounded thighs as she ran back upstairs, wondering if fate had intervened in her favour. The day would still end in a victory nonetheless with at least two men from the gang hanged by her. There was certainly enough orgasmic potential in that. But it was the two core members she was desperate for the most, the McKell brothers. She began preparations for her big, long-awaited day. Her brain buzzing with delirium from the pleasure-giving news.

The execution took place three days after the Sheriff made his announcement. The postponement enabled the town preparation time for the big event as well as to allow people from neighbouring counties to come and witness the spectacle. A large crowd was expected and the hangman's wife had already laid out her darkest corset and suspenders for the special day. She had slept restlessly for the nights leading up to the big day. Her pussy ignored her self-control, it had remained hot and aching with pure lust for all that time.

On the morning of the execution she rose early. She dressed with slow deliberation, initiating the act by tightly covering her glowing cunt in her favourite blood-red panties. This would be a half-hearted attempt to discourage her from touching herself during a private moment. The tightness also gave her an intense sensation down there whenever she grew aroused, so that her hands were not needed as much compared to when she wore looser panties. She followed her slow dressing with a full breakfast.

At the gaol, the sheriff quickly searched the olive green sack she brought with her and then introduced her to the two condemned men. The moment she had been waiting for had arrived. Her heartbeat raced as she realised that the two men to be hanged were the McKell brothers. They had not fallen during the shootout, fate had intervened for her. Although they both looked tired and weary, both men looked strikingly handsome and far better looking than what the newssheets depicted. Barely concealing a gasp in time, she asked the deputies for some time with them in private.

Before the deputies left, they ensured that both men were tied firmly. The hangman's wife then asked them to be gagged and laid on the floor. Although the deputies hesitated briefly, they did as she wished before they left her with them. Once the cell door slammed shut she then opened her olive green bag. She emptied the contents of the bag before she swiftly removed the leggings of the helpless gangmembers. This was then followed by their drawers. She stared at each in turn, their eyes looked more shocked than angry because her methodical approach appeared so well-rehearsed and planned.

Without hesitation, she methodically fitted a drawstring noose over the base of each brother's cock, with smaller loops neatly tightened around each of their scrotums. She then fitted both with tight pants made of cowshide. She stood up and smiled, 'now you're ready. Momma's prepared you boys for a good manly show today ... cause I know you won't be disappointing me tonight!' she gasped softly to them. Her hand touched each cheek of the gagged men. 'And I do feel a need to give you men a little something in return for what you'll be doing for me tonight in the cellar of my welcoming home'.

Knowing she had some time to kill with them, and knowing that she wouldn't be disturbed by the deputies until she gave the signal, the hangman's wife sat back on the closed cell bunk to allow her self-discipline to briefly dissolve. 'I've been reading all about you... ' she shivered as she spoke to them. Slowly her hand began to reach inside her top. ' ... and I was praying so hard that fate would deliver you boys to me! So hard!'

The men began to stare and listen to what the hangman's wife wanted to say. Her other hand began to lift her full-length skirt. She kept talking between gasps as she slowly revealed a fully erect nipple standing proudly atop its warm support of soft, full, neatly-curved breast. The men could see her large erect nipple but could not feel the sensation she was giving to herself as she gently licked her finger and traced its wetness around her dark areola. She closed her eyes and shared an audible moan with the two men.

Buzzing with the delicious tingling, the hangman'Äôs wife sat back, she lifted her legs up onto the bed while looking deeply into their eyes.

'Fate must be the most beautiful, sweetest bitch of all... ' she moaned tenderly 'to have her bring you two handsome, virile men to a hot-blooded woman like me!'

She let her skirt slip back to reveal her smooth, milky-white thighs. 'And the things you boys are gonna do for your sweet momma tonight... '. Slowly, teasingly, the hangman's wife spread her legs wide for the young men to see. Both men gazed in shock and surprise. Encouraged by their trance-like attention, she briefly hesitated from pulling on her blood-red panties.

The men gazed at the wet patch of need that lined the front. Aroused by their undivided attention, she slowly pulled her strap taut from behind. The men watched as her soft, glistening outer labias gently enclosed around the constricted red material, trapping it against her throbbing vaginal opening.

'Men do get hungry for it! Don't they?' She pulled aside the thin scarlet strap and revealed her hunger to them. 'But women have more subtle ways. Secretive ways.'

The men looked in helpless fascination. Her full labias had parted, allowing them exclusive access to her gorgeous lovenest. If they hadn't been gagged their jaws would have dropped to the ground. She basked in their rapturous attention for a lengthy moment. Enjoying the thought that they were savouring a final glimpse of her hungry cunt on the day of their execution.

Slowly, she ran her middle finger vertically over her warm slit. 'The hangman's wife is having an exclusive party at her house tonight... ' With her middle finger, she rubbed her pulsing clit in small circling motions... 'and you fine men ... are most welcome'.

The men watched in disbelief as her moist labias began to twitch with the early onset of orgasm. With suddenness she cut her pleasure short, covered her sex with her panties, dropped her skirt and tucked her breast back into her top. Without a word she stood up, moved over to the men and, in turn, reached inside their pants to mercillessly constrict the nooses over their helpless erections. She then gave the signal to the deputies to let her out...

She stood in the front row of the crowd as the two men were escorted up to the scaffold. When she wasn't immediately in charge of the execution, she loved a good view of the men. To see their bodies drop down and then jerk left and right as the rope swiftly pulled them out of the world. Her favourite hangings of course were young men. She loved witnessing the musculature of a young man's body tense up as the rope grew taut around his neck and the response the rest of his body made. She imagined what happened to him at the moment of death and if she'd had her way, she would order every man naked before his execution so that she could record every juicy detail.

To see their bodies twitch, to see their swelling tongues appear at the entrance of their mouths, knowing what that could do for her within the privacy of her own home. Witnessing the appearance of their tongues would often make her vulva throb and yawn with the most powerful of desires and cravings - cravings desperate to be satisfied. Sometimes she would be waiting nearby for the crowd to disperse, so that they would then take the body for overnight storage in the cool cellar-room of her house.

During some executions, she would lock her knees together and clench her jaws, so that people around her would not detect any sign of how she felt inside her body and between her legs. Sometimes her body would simultaneously convulse with sadness and sexual pleasure the moment a man dropped through the trapdoor. At the moment of death she wondered if he would experience a postmortem erection. Sometimes they did and she would often walk with the body back to her cellarroom. The folds of her pussy slick with fresh cream from her waking cunt, while wondering how soon she would be left alone with the body so that she could decide what to do with the come that would have oozed out of his dick...

With their hanging, she was no different. She carefully scanned their faces as they looked into the crowd. They both noticed her, but said nothing. For some reason they both looked stunned from the moment she shared herself with them in the gaol and with what she'd now done to their genitals, but she knew that they would not open their mouth in protest once they were on the scaffold. The stunned look on their faces also included one of mild resignation. They just didn't seem to care. She smiled in satisfaction that the tight pants she put them in did little to hide their apparatus. None of the crowd seemed to mind, especially the women old and young, who appeared to notice it more than the men did. She indicated the executioner to remove their gags. After a lengthy pause, with subtlety, she blew the men a soft kiss each and gave the signal...

In the soft candlelight of her cool cellar-room, she squeezed the soapy sponge lightly and placed it on Raymond's bare, hairless chest. She carefully removed the tight-fitting pants and drawers, emptying the contents into a waste bucket. The pants went straight into the basin of hot water and soap. She reached for the sponge and slowly squeezed the warm water through his hair, washing away the sweat and dirt and man-grease. She moved downwards gradually, washing and cleaning him thoroughly and with an expert eye. She carefully wiped the lips but avoided his protruding tongue, fighting off her desire to either kiss him deeply or straddle and rub herself ferociously on his face.

Across, on the other side of the bench she could see Raymond's older brother. He had already been cleaned up and his state had not disappointed her. She looked down from his bare belly, fondly eyeing the noose and the tiny slipknot that she'd perfected to maintain and preserve the young man's full erection. She knew how to tie it up so that when he fell, the sudden rush of blood would reach the upper half of his shaft and remain there. The knot was also designed to contain the hanged man's ejaculate, if he managed to quickly achieve it. She had perfected that slipknot technique on the cock and it never failed her once the man was aroused.

During the cleaning, she had lovingly given every part of his body her undivided attention and now she was to continue this process with Raymond. Her sponge followed down his sternum, wiping clean the dust and sweat. She loved washing down a male corpse. The silence of the cellarroom and the stillness of the men it contained. She could sit for hours with them and watch. Other times she couldn't help but kiss them, stroke them fondly after completing her task of cleaning them properly. She also spoke to them, breathed in the smell of their freshly-cleaned, lifeless bodies.

The presence of death intoxicated her, brought her kneeling to her own sexuality and passions. With a dead man inside her she could come so fully and ferociously, it would leave her weak and trembling. On exceptional nights like this one, with two male guests in the house, there would often be fireworks. Sometimes she felt the need to close the door to the cellarroom, but nobody would have heard her anyway.

After her long bath, she looked at herself in the mirror. She wondered if there were other women out there who felt like she did, but she always kept her desires to herself and the many dead men that she had completely loved and sated herself with. She knew they would always keep their secrets after she'd loved them and she vividly remembered each of them. Each body so distinct in its own creation.

She did wish that she could have kept one of the brothers downstairs alive, however. She thought as she gently rubbed her full, pale breasts. To make one a private assistant to assist her in seeking deep fulfillment with his dead brother. The hangman's wife sat back on her bed and lifted her legs as she thought details of this delicious thought.