Chapter 3

Miranda was still naked after her time in bed with Dad. She licked her lips and adjusted the drape on Dad’s ammunition bandoliers, then stood on her tiptoes to give him one last, lingering kiss. Dad, armed with a rifle similar to Andrew’s but sporting a bayonet with a small clear plastic button on the point, returned the kiss eagerly. Miranda put her arm around Dad’s waist and escorted him to the tent entrance. “Could you ask Beth to come in here now? And tell people I’ll need...” He paused in thought. “ ... about forty minutes to get ready, and then I’ll signal for you to come back in.”

Miranda waited a few seconds after he’d gone. This time I stayed hidden until she turned and beckoned me. Her face was glowing with excitement. “This is it, Amy! Time for the big deal!”

“Yes, but why are Andrew and my dad dressed like that?”

Miranda grinned. “There’s usually kind of a show built around the hanging. This one’s called the ‘Princess Scenario.’ It’s kind of cute, you’ll see.”

Beth came into the tent, giggling. She looked excited as well. “Everybody’s whispering about those outfits Mr. Cameron and Andrew have on. Are we ready to go, Randi?”

Miranda nodded. “I told Preston about forty minutes. That gives us lots of time, but we better get started.”

Beth unzipped her leather jacket and let it fall to the ground. Underneath, she had on a black leather bra that made her breasts very prominent. The cups were joined by a thin strap, so all her cleavage was visible. I gasped: Beth looked sensational. She took off her dark shades for the first time since I met her, and hung them from that thin strap between her breasts.

My eyes had been drawn to Miranda when we first met, so I hadn’t paid too much attention to Beth. But now I noticed Beth’s choker said, in block letters much less fancy than the script stitching on Miranda’s, “Beth - Property of the Hanging Academy.”

Miranda saw me watching and said, “Beth is kind of the executioner, though Andrew’s actually going to pull the lever. The black outfit and shades are part of the persona.”

Beth grinned. “There were a few times in the last few years I felt like executing you. Here’s my chance, finally.”

“You’ve known each other a long time, huh?” I asked.

Miranda smiled in Beth ‘s direction as her “assistant” approached with a handful of items, including a glittering tiara. “We’ve been roommates, right from the first day. Sometimes students change around, but we never did. We graduated at the end of last summer, but we stayed on as teachers until we could get sold. We’re still sharing a room.”

Beth nodded. “I’ve got my gig scheduled for next weekend. Steve’s going to be my assistant.”

I suddenly noticed the vibes passing between Miranda and Beth. “Should I go? You guys probably want some alone time.”

Miranda smiled and shook her head. “That’s really sweet of you, Amy. But we said our goodbyes this morning. We knew there wouldn’t be a chance to make love after we got here.”

“You’re lovers too?”

Miranda smiled. “Most roommates end up that way. You just spend so much time working together, studying together, and being partners for hanging practice. You look out for each other. You literally trust your roommate with your life when you’re practicing.” He laughed. “All the rooms have two small beds when you first move in. You can request that they replace them with a single larger one. Most of us end up doing that by the middle of the first year.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to bring this up, but I had to ask. “You must ... lose a few students along the way. Aren’t there accidents sometimes?”

Beth had put down the tiara and, with a look of serious concentration, used her finger to tease out a lock of Miranda’s hair just behind the temple. She gave it a few twists and pulled it straight back along the side of the blonde’s head, securing it in place with a couple of hairpins.

Miranda answered, “There weren’t any accidents during our three years there, and none of the teachers mentioned any—at least none of the kind you mean where somebody dies or is seriously injured. We have a lot of safety rules, and we stick with them. But a lot of the students don’t finish for various reasons.

“How many do finish?”

“About...” Miranda stopped and thought, as Beth styled the other side. “It’s around forty percent, I guess.”

My eyes opened wide. “Less than half graduate?”

I was impressed with the transformation taking place. The hair arrangement suggested a laurel wreath, but without flowers. It gave Miranda a look that was both innocent and regal; she looked like a lovely maiden picking flowers in a meadow, or like a young woman about to make her debut at a society gala.

Miranda nodded. “There are about sixty students in each entering class. Just twenty-four to twenty-eight graduate.”

“What happens to the others, then? I don’t think I’ve heard of any Hanging Academy dropouts walking around.”

Beth carefully settled the tiara on Miranda’s head, and attached it with three clips at the bottom.

Miranda smiled and shook his head. “There aren’t any dropouts. All of the students either graduate or are hanged.”

Beth said, “Hold still, Randi.”

“Sorry, love.”

“But I thought you said there aren’t any accidents.”

“Right. It’s not from accidents. But every two months there’s a demonstration for the whole class. The five trainees with the lowest grades have their names put in a hat, and one of them is hanged for the demonstration. Then the rest of the class discusses his performance.” Miranda looked directly into my eyes. “Do you understand why, Amy?”

I blinked once, then the answer came to me. “You have to see some actual hangings, all the way to the end. There are some things you can’t learn any other way.”

Miranda beamed. “Exactly right!”

Beth finished with the tiara. “See if that’ll stay on there, Randi.”

Miranda shook her head, tilting it both ways, trying to dislodge the tiara. “Yeah, that’s on there.” She shook it again, briskly. “It’s not getting any looser. We’ll leave it like this.”

Beth nodded and returned to the satchel, retrieving two lengths of silky-looking rope. She wrapped one around Miranda’s waist and tied a knot in it in front of Miranda’s stomach, leaving one long loose end hanging down most of the way to the floor.

Miranda went on, “Oh, and the other thing is the parties. Every three weeks the Academy hosts a party. People pay for admission—that’s one source of the Academy’s income, besides selling the graduates—and the students take visitors, male or female, to private rooms to entertain them. Like I just did with Andrew and your dad. Three a night, usually. That contributes to two aspects of the learning process. Can you tell me what they are, Amy?”

I realized that Miranda intended to use his remaining time to make a student out of me. “Well...” I thought. “Obviously you learn more about sex that way. And...” It suddenly came to me, because I’d just seen such a vivid demonstration. “And...” I grinned and held up my little finger, twirling it in a circle.

Miranda laughed as hard as I’d ever seen him. “You got it! Learning how to read people and figure out what they want before they tell you. Like you saw me do. You learn a lot of that from studying about it, but there’s no possible substitute for actually doing it. Anyway, the reason I brought up the parties is, at the end of each party, one of the students is hanged. They rotate that among the classes, first year, second year, third year, using the same selection system as for the bimonthly demonstration. Of course, that’s what a lot of the visitors came to see, more than the sex.”

I looked deep within myself to see whether my determination to attend the Academy had been shaken. A day ago, what Miranda was now telling me would certainly have scared me off. Now I just felt a growing confidence inside myself. Only the students with the lowest grades were hanged before graduation. I had always worked hard for my grades. I could work harder still. Being with Miranda made me feel equal to any task.

Beth had finished with the first rope and bent down to retrieve the second. She hesitated, looking into Miranda’s eyes. “I need to tie your hands now, Randi.”

Miranda and Beth looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them speaking. Suddenly Miranda reached out and put her arms around Beth, drawing the other girl against her. “One more time.” They held each other tightly, leaning their heads against each other. For the first and only time in Miranda’s presence, I wished that I were somewhere else.

The two friends lifted their heads, looked at each other and kissed, holding the kiss a long time. They broke it off at the same moment; Miranda’s eyes were shining. Miranda said softly, “I love you...”

Beth responded, “I love you, Randi. Always.”

Miranda smiled and sighed. Then she lifted both hands. “Let’s get it done.”

Beth echoed her sigh, took the rope, and walked around behind Miranda. Miranda exclaimed, “Oh! Here’s something you can help with, Amy. Look in the satchel for a sponge and a bottle of oil.”

There weren’t many things left inside the satchel by now, and I found the two items right away.

“Okay, now pour some oil onto the sponge and start spreading it on my body. Everywhere. I need every square inch covered with it. Except my face and neck. Stop at the choker, but get everything under that.”

I tilted the bottle onto the sponge. “I don’t understand. Why oil?”

“You’ll see.”

I wasn’t quite sure, but Miranda fixed me with one eye and nodded firmly. So I started oiling her skin, starting at her feet.