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A storm began to form in the distance in Manhattan, New York. The three narrators, Nathan, Provost, and Hangman felt soft droplets of rain begin to fall onto their heads. "We should head under the Gallows for cover!" Hangman exclaims. "Those clouds over there seem pretty dark and spooky..." The executioner points at the dark storm clouds culminating over the city. "Fine. Let's go down, shall we?" Provost glares at Nathan as he speaks, then adds: "Unless we hang this spy, and go home?" Upon this remark, Nathan widens his eyes; "I'd prefer the former, thank you." The three trekked down the stairs of the Gallows, and sat beneath the wooden platform. They sat onto the wet grass as the rain began to pour down harder. "It's crazy that it just started storming! A few stories ago it was fine out!" Hangman murmured, looking up at the platform's underside. "But the Gallows is quite sturdy. No need to worry about it falling on top of us!" Nathan's eyes gazed over at Provost who had a perturbed expression on his face.
"What's wrong, Provost? You seem more annoyed than usual." Nathan spoke calmly as he watched Provost's face turn to slight surprise. "Nothing. Just the weather. It's very odd." The Gallows's platform was small, and the dry land beneath it was even smaller. As a result, the three men were squished beside each other like sardines. Nathan was in the middle, with Hangman and Provost by his sides. Provost coughed as Nathan leaned up against his shoulder and side. "Hale." Provost muttered, looking away. "Ever heard of personal space?" The spy apologized as he moved over to Hangman's side.
"There's not a bunch of space here..." Nathan murmured as a loud bang erupted from a thunder bolt. "God!" Provost flinched at the noise, instinctively hugging Nathan. Hangman stared as he chuckled: "So much for personal space, eh?" Provost quickly removed himself from Nathan. "That does not count! It was the damned thunder's fault!" The Provost Marshal shouted, clutching his fists. "You were hugging me really tightly, Provost." Nathan snickered as he watched the man beside him blush madly. "I was startled!"
Hangman began to laugh: "Yeah, yeah Provost! As if you'd be startled by some thund-" Another loud bang causes Hangman to cartoonishly hop into Nathan's lap like a startled dog. Provost stares blankly at Hangman, then begins to speak: "I don't suppose a story could be told in conditions like this." Nathan shakes his head. "Unless you guys don't mind the thunder interrupting every few seconds-" Another rumble from the thunder finishes Nathan's statement. Hangman, still sitting in Nathan's lap, sighs. "What do we do now? I'm dying from boredom over here." A strong gust of wind causes him to start shivering. "God it's cold!" The executioner moves his body deeper into Nathan for warmth as Provost silently judges him.
"Oh please. There have been colder and more dreary days." Provost scoffs as he looks at Nathan's face. "Why are you flustered, Hale?" The marshal's dark brown eyes glare at Nathan's icy blue ones. Nathan's cheeks are a warm red hue, and beads of sweat form along his face. He looks down at the man in his lap as he tilts his head to the side. Hangman is partly grinding against the spy's lap as he tries to keep warm from the storm. As a result, Nathan bites his lips as he awkwardly looks at Provost.
Provost's mouth is agape as he realizes what Nathan is experiencing. "Are you-!?" He exclaims, looking at Nathan's lap where Hangman is seated. "Huh?" Hangman looks back at Provost, "What did I do?" Provost shakes his head: "Not you! The spy!" His finger points at Nathan, more specifically, his crotch. Confused, Hangman looks down at the lap he's sitting in. He then sees a bulge amongst the fabric of Nathan's pants. "Woah- wait..." Hangman looks up at Nathan, who's now looking away with an embarrassed expression. "You're turned on by this?!" Hangman exclaims as he watches Nathan bite his lip harder.
Nathan soon finds the courage to speak. "I, well..." He shifts in his seat, his arms tied behind his back. "You freak!" Provost chuckles teasingly as he leans in to Nathan's face. "Getting an erection from the man who's going to kill you!" He laughs, covering his mouth whilst doing so. "It's not my fault that he's grinding up against me like that!" Nathan sputters out, flustered. A look of guilt appears on Hangman's face. "Oh man, I'm sorry Mr. Hale... I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Hangman slowly leaves Nathan's lap and returns to his seat beside Nathan. After doing so, Nathan sighs as he looks down at his crotch. His penis is still erect and is refusing to go down. Provost smirks, "I didn't realize that you were so... sensitive to something like that!" He then adds: "As expected of a filthy spy."
Nathan groans as he moves his legs to try and cover his boner. The marshal looks at his expression, it seems evident that Nathan isn't fully used to getting an erection. "Do you-" Provost pauses, examining Nathan's face as he look at him: "Do you want some help with that?" He seems genuinely sincere as he speaks. Hangman looks over at Nathan before adding: "I can't let my victims die without feeling satisfied in life." Nathan opens his legs and stares at his erection. He speaks softly: "I'd... like that." Provost's face returns to normal as he positions himself closer to Nathan. "Fine then. Let's try this."
His hand reaches out to touch Nathan's cock, as he moves he looks at Nathan's expression to ensure that he's fine with it. Nathan winces as Provost touches his penis, but soon relaxes when Provost gently massages it. "I'd like for you to get in your knees." Provost orders, then directs his voice at Hangman, "You can hold him upright and help stroke it." The executioner nods as he helps Nathan get into a crouching position on his knees. Since Nathan's arms are tied behind his back, he needs support in the front to maintain the proper position. Provost begins to pull down Nathan's trousers, and rubs the man's hips with his hands. As he does so, Nathan lets out a soft moan. "If you could be gentle, that would be great..." Nathan mutters under his breath as he feels Hangman's glove grasp his cock. "I know what I'm doing." Provost smirks. The man then spits onto his right hand's fingers, lubricating them. Using his left arm, Provost holds Nathan's ass in place.
Provost begins to pull and squish Nathan's ass to help stimulate him. Meanwhile, Nathan lets out a moan as Hangman starts stroking his dick. The marshal's left arm trails up to Nathan's chest and abdomen, his fingers groping his pectorals and nipples from beneath his clothing. "Ah!" Nathan exhales, biting his lip after grunting. "Be a good boy for me, Nathan." Provost murmurs as he continues stimulating the spy. Hangman leans his head upwards to kiss Nathan's neck as he keeps on stroking. Soon enough, Provost begins to push his right hand's fingers into Nathan's asshole. Doing so, Nathan whimpers. On a rhythmic beat, Provost pushes his fingers inward and outward of Nathan's ass. As seconds pass, Nathan calms down slightly from the sensation. Hangman starts stroking at a faster pace, and precum starts to drip from Nathan's tip. Upon seeing this, Hangman leans down to lick it up. "Ahh... fuck..." Nathan groans in response to the soft wetness of Hangman's tongue on his cock. "Hang...man..!" Nathan exclaims as he suddenly feels Hangman's teeth touch the tip.
In one full push, Provost shoves most of his fingers into Nathan's asshole. Perfectly preparing it for his dick. "You're being so good, Nathan." Provost hums into Nathan's ear. "Just a few more pushes..." His left hand's index finger trails along Nathan's exposed chest. Hangman's lips surround Nathan's dick as he uses his hands to stroke it. Slowly, Provost pulls down his trousers to reveal his penis. He aligns the 6 inch dick against Nathan's hole, and gently pushes it inside. "Ah! Fuck..!" Nathan yelps as Provost moves his hands to Nathan's waist, holding him still. "God!" Nathan moans, looking down at Hangman; who is now sucking on his dick. The rain begins to pour down more violently as thunder rages in the background.
With careful and passionate thrusts, Provost grips onto Nathan's waist. The spy's back arches involuntarily. It's clear that he's reaching his climax. Soon, the thrusts match the rhythm of the rain pelting against the gallows. "I'm almost done, Hale." Provost grunts out, hugging Nathan from behind. Nathan only replies with a moan of pleasure. The thrusts soon slow for a moment, as Provost releases into the spy. Following suit, Nathan ejaculates into Hangman's mouth.
"Haah... ha..." Nathan breathes out tiredly, looming his upper body over Hangman. The executioner's lips part from Nathan's penis, with semen dripping down onto the grass. Provost pulls his dick out of Nathan's asshole, and wipes some of his semen off of Nathan's ass. Hangman eventually swallows, and lets out a sigh of satisfaction. Nathan murmurs: "God..." Hangman helps pull up Nathan's pants as Provost pulls up his own. The marshal sits down beside Nathan, using his hand to caress the man's cheek. "Was that... up to your standards?" Provost says, his voice tired yet happy. Nathan nods his head. "Oh my god... yes." Provost tucks a strand of Nathan's blonde hair behind his ear. "And you?" He asks Hangman, now lying against Nathan's chest. "I'd say that I'm no longer bored!" Hangman chuckles, then slowly closes his eyes.
Tenderly, Provost kisses Nathan's cheek and Hangman's forehead. He then leans against Nathan's side. In the distance, the rain starts to stop, and the clouds turn white. "Perfect timing! The sky's getting clear!" Hangman hums, pointing in at the sky. Nathan smiles before saying: "Thank you... you two..."