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Noose-Bulletin reporter Marybeth Carmen interviews Clint Mondy, US "Sexecutioner of the Year" seven years out of the last 20, and 3 times worldwide SotY.

MH note: Mondy is an American lynx in his early 40s, just over 6 foot 2, trim, very self-assured.

Transcript:

MH: Tell us a little about yourself.

CM: I am a professional sexecutioner. I have a Master's degree in snuffology, magna cum laude, from DolcettUniversity, and my Sexecutioner's certificate, with honors, from GallowglassVocationalAcademy. And I should add that I really enjoy my job.

MH: What made you decide to become a Sexecutioner?

CM: Well, the most obvious part is, you don't go to Dolcett U unless you're into snuff, and especially asphyxia. I knew that asphyxia snuff was my "thing" even before I started high school. My Senior year I applied to five different snuff colleges. When I got my acceptance letter from Dolcett U, I sent in my registration form and first year's tuition by return mail.

MH: I hear that DU is really tough.

CM: Yeah. Less than half of the freshman class graduates. Slightly over a quarter of the students drop out and go to easier snuffversities, or to a conventional college. And another quarter get snuffed for various reasons -- flunking out being the most common. But I was always in the top tenth in my major, top quartile overall, so my chances were a lot better than most. Of course, there was still the possibility of getting chosen for a lethal demo in class, but well, I guess I was lucky.

MH: Can you give us a quick description of your job?

CM: My job is killing people by depriving them of air, and making them enjoy it. That sounds like it's all physical -- put a noose around their neck and drop them, or squeeze their neck shut with my hands -- but it's actually psychological. People have an inborn fear of death, an instinct to survive no matter what. I have to quiet that fear, then find out what they really want, then give it to them. It's a good job, it pays well and there are lots of perks. I get a lot of different clients: male, female, cis, trans, intersex, queer, whatever. Different requests for sex and method. And different reasons for hiring me.

MH: What kinds of reasons?

CM: Sexecutioners classify clients into four types: Mandatory, Medical, Slaves, and Volunteers.

MH: Mandatory, that would be people who have been sentenced to hang for non-violent crimes, right?

CM: Yes. "Hanged by the neck until dead."

MH: And Medical?

CM: Furs with incurable diseases. I think 90% of your readers know one or two furs with cancer or some other horrible disease who took an overdose of pills. Which works most of the time. But sometimes they end up in a nursing home, where anthros making not much more than minimum wage tend to their bodies until something breaks inside.

And sleeping pills aren't exactly sexy. Come to me or any other sexecutioner and you can have whatever you want. It's usually affordable -- not real cheap, but almost anyfur in the middle class can pay my fee. And I have discount plans for those who are in a bad situation and short of money.

MH: I guess. What about "slaves"? How do you handle those

CM: That's sub-furs who are in a 24/7 D/S relationship. Their dominant decides to end the relationship, but the sub doesn't want to be "freed" and the Dom-fur doesn't care to do the deed himself. They come to me to "take care" of the sub. Most of my slave sexecutions are in their 20s or 30s; older people don't get slave contracts.

MH: You said volunteers. People actually volunteer to be hanged or strangled to death or whatever?

CM: Yes. Two subtypes, actually,. One is the "goodbye, cruel world" type. They just can't or don't want to cope with living any more. One final orgasm and goodbye. I don't get many of those, thankfully. Most of my volunteers are really into sexual asphyxia and decide that they've done all the living they really want to. They want a glorious final exit. These are likely to be creative, and prefer the late evening, around bedtime. Tuesday night seems to be the most popular for these, don't ask me why. All ages, from 18 to mid-70s.

MH: How do you choose the method?

CM: Whatever the client wants, subject to my two inflexible rules.

MH: What are those?

CM: First: I only do methods that involve asphyxiation. Want to be shot? Stabbed? Beheaded? Make an appointment with somebody else.

Second: If the client is a male, I will accept a handjob or a blowjob, but I only give handjobs. With females it's almost anything goes, except that I'm never the bottom.

As far as the method, it's whatever the client wants (except the mandatories), subject to Rule 1. And the same thing goes for the sex: client's choice, subject to Rule 2.

MH: I imagine you have some specialized tools for your trade...

CM: Not "some." "A lot." Some are obvious, like nooses. Some are less so.

MH: For example?

CM: Gallows, nooses. ropes, scarves, strangling cords

MH: More than one gallows?

CM: Two in my workroom -- a tall one for longdrops and an autohang for slower hangings. And a portable one I can set up in somebody's backyard or wherever.

MH: Go on...

CM: Things to stand or sit on. . A thing like a birdbath, but deeper. Plastic bags. An inflatable pool -- I can do a drowning just about anywhere. Weight plates from one pound to forty-five pounds.

MH: I see what you mean. A lot of tools and bondage equipment.

CM: Yes.

MH: Can you describe a typical week?

CM: A typical week in my business? That's a contradiction in terms. But ... one week last month I had one of each type. It started on Monday with a medical customer, a 26-year-old vixen, I'll call her Iona. She had stage 4 breast cancer. It's not common in femmes that young, but it does occur. Her choices were not very appetizing. Radiation would leave burns in a place no woman wants burned and a 4% chance of 5 years survival.. Chemotherapy, with all the misery involved in that, would give her a 10% chance. Or she could combine the two. That would mean even more misery and give her a 15% chance, maybe. Or she could do nothing, and die in about 3 months, with a lot of pain, vomiting, and other unpleasant symptoms.

Iona chose none of the above. She had a fantasy of getting cock-choked while giving me a blowjob, ending her dying -- or at least losing consciousness forever as I came down her throat/ She called me in the morning and I explained the facts of life to her: cock-choking is incompatible with the in-and-out motions needed for a successful blowjob. She paused, then agreed: "Well, whatever is closest. I leave the details up to you."

We made a "date" for that evening. When she arrived I showed her the setup.

She nodded, touched the handcuffs -- real police issue -- but asked about the weird-looking ring. I explained: "It's cuir-bouilli, leather boiled in wax. It protects my cock in case your jaw muscles go into spasm as you lose consciousness.

"Ooh! Yeah, I don't want to hurt you. Just me..."

"Okay, then." We both took our clothes off. She was a real looker: a small nose, nice red lips, luxurious fur, good-size tits that didn't sag at all, flat belly. It added up to a very attractive package.

I went into the bathroom, opened a drawer in the vanity, and injected a drug into my cock that would let me stay hard even after cumming.

MH: Really? Wow!

CM: Heh! I'm glad they sent a femme to interview me. A male would be cringing about now. Tell your readers not to worry: it hurt about as much as pinching the web between your thumb and forefinger, and only for about two seconds.

We spent a good 15 minutes "making out" -- kissing each other here and there and the other place too. I licked her shaven pussy until she begged me to stop. She knelt down on the cushion I'd provided, and I tied her ankles to her hips. I clipped an oxygen and pulse sensor to her left index finger and told her, "Go ahead."

She wrapped her right hand around the base of my cock and pulled me into her hot, wet mouth, then started sliding her lips and tongue up and down. The sensation was wonderful. As I got close to orgasm, she slowed down but added little flicks of her tongue along the underside.

"Getting close," I told her.

She sped up, with lots of tongue-work. "I'm going..." I said, then screamed and erupted in her mouth. At last I couldn't stand any more and pulled away while she swallowed.

I picked up the ring and slid it onto my cock.

"Open."

She did. I grabbed her head and slid into her mouth. I pushed all the way in, and adjusted the ring so it was between her teeth. I stayed that way, my cock blocking her airway, while she tried unsuccessfully to breathe.

A minute went by. A minute and a half. She started struggling to pull away, jerking her neck muscles back and forth, to the left, the right, trying to get free, but I kept a tight grip on her head.

After about four minutes her mouth spasmed closed, but the ring protected my cock from her teeth. She stopped struggling somewhere around six minutes. I watched the sensor while I held her head.

A few minutes later the sensor's alarm went off. I glanced at the readout: Oxygen saturation at 60% and irregular heart rhythm. Two minutes later there was no pulse at all. I pulled out.

There was a small puff as the trapped air in her lungs came out, but that was it.

I spread some lube on my cock, rubbed myself frantically for about five minutes, and came in her mouth one last time. I wiped her face clean, then picked up my cell and called the phone number she had given me. "Ready for pickup," I told them, and gave my name and address. Two men showed up twenty minutes later and took her body away.

MH: Wow! You really do live an interesting life.

CM: Yes. I love my job!

MH: And the next client?

CM: That was Tuesday evening, a lemming volunteer. Remember what I said about Tuesday nights?

MH: Yes. And it's in my notes.

CM: She called in the morning and made an appointment for that evening. Her husband had introduced her to the joys of sexual asphyxia. Here's how she described it: "We were having sex, missionary, and he put his hands around my neck. It turned me on, and I moaned a little. He squeezed just a little, And then harder, so I could hardly breathe. I wriggled under him and I came so hard! If I'd had enough air, you would have heard my scream two blocks away. After that I always wanted to be strangled during sex. I always came so hard! After a couple of years even that wasn't enough. I asked him to waterboard me, but he didn't want to. He just wanted to play with asphyxia. The idea of fucking a corpse turned him off. I did some web research and talked to him, and we agreed to call you.

She phoned me and made an appointment. She wanted several of her closest friends to watch, so I set out some armchairs in a semi-circle near the bondage-bed.

When she arrived, I seated the guests, then got down to business. I started with the usual foreplay: kissing, necking, groping her titties, undressing her and me, tweaking and kissing her nips, caressing her here and there and, well, just about everywhere. I put a jug of water on the bedside table, tied her spread-eagle to the bed, and put a pulse sensor on her finger. Then I then laid a scarf over her mouth and nose.

I checked with a finger. She was dripping wet. I slid into her and poured a little water onto the gauze, then started fucking her, slowly and not all the way in. She struggled for air, and eventually got some as the scarf dried out, but I poured more water. We continued this game for several minutes, then I started fucking her in earnest. I poured the water more frequently, leaving her less time to breathe. After a few more minutes, I just kept dripping water on the scarf.

She tried to pull free of the ropes, get out from under me, anything to get air. She writhed and struggled, but her tail flicked like she smelled fresh strawberries and her cunt clamped down on me like a vise. It took all the strength in my hips to pull partway out and then ram into her again.

I eventually came inside her. All her muscles were tight but she wasn't moving. I checked her carotid pulse -- her heart was still beating but she was out. I poured more water, to the point where it dripped into her mouth and nose. She was breathing water, but there was no cough reflex. I pulled out slowly, still dripping water on the scarf. I checked her pulse again after a minute. Gone.

I looked at the guests. Of the two men, one had a wet spot on his crotch. The other was still making out with the femme next to him, rubbing each other frantically. He came within a few seconds, and she yipped in orgasm about a minute later.

I kept the scarf wet until the sensor showed a flatline, then I filled out the paperwork and called the mortuary.

MH: Wow!

CM: Yeah. It was Wow! for me, too. And for her. I could tell by the way her cunt rippled, but also her face. When I took the scarf off there was this totally satiated look.

MH: What next

CM: A mandatory: A raccoon who was arrested after she rear-ended another car, then blew .24 on the breathalyzer. This was her third conviction, and with an "at fault" accident it was an automatic death sentence. She made an appointment for Wednesday afternoon. Like many of my clients, she wanted a last orgasm, but left the details up to me.

I had two stools set up under a dangling noose. I clipped the pulse-oximeter to her left index finger. Then I kissed her lips for a good five minutes, then gave some attention to her cheeks, eyelids, earlobes, and the sides of her neck. When she was breathing hard, I started undressing her, one item at a time. As I removed each item, I caressed the fur that was revealed: the insides of her elbows when the sweater came off, her cleavage, then flicking her nipples with a wet finger. Then her feet, her knees.

I tied her hands when she was naked, then helped her up onto one of the stools. I got onto the other one, then slipped a noose over her head and around her neck. I got down, took the second stool away, then pulled the rope taut and tied it to a cleat on the wall.

I kissed my way up her legs and licked her slowly until she begged for more. Then I sped up, licking faster and faster. I slipped two fingers into her, then three, still flicking her clit with the tip of my tongue. She screamed and I tipped her stool over. I kept her "entertained" with a finger on her clit while she kicked. After she stopped kicking I looked at the display. O2 sat 89%. A couple of minutes later it was down to 73% and no pulse.

All part of my day's work. I certified that she'd been hanged according to the law and sent her body to the Coroner along with the paperwork.

MH: I notice you didn't mention cumming that time.

CM: One of the secrets to being a sexecutioner is rationing your orgasms. Especially for us males: you can only cum so many times in a week. I can fake it if I have to (except when they're giving me a blowjob: there's no convincing substitute for the taste of semen), but I prefer not to.

MH: Did you "do" a slave that week?

CM: Yes, that's why I chose that week to tell you about. She was a grey squirrel. Her Dom, a 6 foot tall coyote, would have been happy to hang her or strangle her, but she wanted more. As he explained it:

"She wanted me to strangle her slowly. As in taking at least 24 hours to die, and preferably longer. I put my tie around her neck and pulled gently, but she lost consciousness in less than half a minute. Even pulling the tie so gently that she could still get enough air with just a little extra effort, she was out like a light before I'd gotten properly started."

"Yes. It doesn't take much to block the blood flow to the brain"

He nodded. "I tried using my hands, but I couldn't keep the amount of pressure right. Either I'd squeeze too hard and she'd be unconscious in less than five minutes, or not hard enough and she'd tell me so."

"I think I can solve your problem." I reached into a drawer and got a special rope. It was threaded through a ¾ inch wooden ball. "Recite a poem or something," I told her. Then I put it around her neck with the ball in the soft spot above her Adam's apple,and pulled until she couldn't talk any more, just a quiet rasp. After about a minute, her hands came up and grabbed the rope, trying to loosen it.

"Will that do?" I asked.

"Yummm!!!"

"She'll be wanting some sex with that?"

"Yes," the Dom answered. "She wants both of us to use her in every hole, as many times as we can manage."

I nodded. "Right. I think we should start with her mouth -- she'll have a hard time giving a good blowjob once the rope gets tight."

"Yeah."

She looked at me. "How do you want me, sir?"

"I think the basic. I'll lie down on the bed and you can have fun with my cock."

"My favorite!"

I took off my clothes and got on the bed. She lay on top of me and slowly kissed her way down from my mouth to my cock. She started slowly, pleasuring me without trying to make me cum. After about five minutes she sped up a little, then faster and deeper, using her tongue for maximum effect. It took her almost fifteen minutes to make me cum, and I was screaming out loud by the time she was done.

MH: A real pro, huh?

CM: As far as I know she never charged for it. But the Dom told me afterward that he often had her pull a train. Sometimes she had cocks in her mouth, cunt, and ass at the same time.

MH: Yum!

CM: Thinking about it turns you on, huh? She drained me dry, swallowed, then smiled. By this time the Dom was naked. She knelt down in front of him and gave him a blowjob that left him barely able to stand up.

"You ready now," I asked her.

She nodded.

I put her on the bed, put the rope around her neck, and started adding weights. "Let me know when it gets uncomfortable."

"Yes, sir."

I had seven pounds of weight at the free end when she said, "That feels about right."

I put straps across her shoulders, underneath her tits, across her waist and her hips, but left her hands and legs free.

MH: Sounds like a lot of fun.

CM: Yes. for all three of us. Every couple of hours I added more weight to the rope. We each had her cunt and her ass that day, and he fucked her mouth that evening, cock-choking her.

MH: You have amazing stamina.

CM: Viagra helps. So does watching her struggle to breathe.

MH: So then...

CM: I took a couple of weights off to let her sleep comfortably.

I woke up in the morning and checked in on her. She was still sleeping, and her O2 was 93. I mixed up some waffle batter and made myself a Belgian waffle, topped with strawberries and whipped cream. The smell of food woke her up and she was hungry. I made another waffle, then removed most of the weights and fed her a bite at a time. Then I put everything back to before I eased the tension at bedtime.

The Dom showed up a little later and fucked her cunt. I let her rest a few minutes, then fucked her ass. And every hour I added another couple of pounds.

Around 1PM her O2 saturation was down to 86. I fucked her in front one last time, then he took her rear entrance.

She lasted until almost 4PM. The pulse monitor was screaming at us, so I disabled the alarm and just watched her struggle. Her face slowly turned purple , then blue. Her struggles slowed down, then stopped. I looked at the pulse display. It was irregular but still going. We sat and watched her until she flatlined. I added an extra 20 pounds and waited 5 more minutes just to make sure. Then I let him take her body away and arrange the funeral.

WARNING: MALE DEATH AND M/M SEX FOLLOWS

MH: Is there one execution that stands out? That makes you proud of your profession?

CM: Yes. It was a mandatory, a red panda. He was caught at the Canadian border with 10 grams of heroin. You can buy it over the counter in Maple Leaf World, but it's still illegal in the US, and anything over 1 gram gets the death penalty.

He'd bought it for his sister, who had an advanced case of Eliason's Disease. Severe myalgia -- pain in the long muscles -- and no effective treatment except opioids. Meditation helps, but you can't spend your entire life in Lotus Position. And you know what happens to any doctor who prescribes long-term opioids.

CM: Yes. We've reported on that issue several times.

MH: He pled guilty and was sentenced to be hanged. He came to me rather than risk the tender mercies of the state's official hangman. He wanted to be fucked good, then hanged while he came.

CM : Oh, but...

MH : Right. Ass-fucking isn't among the services I normally provide males. What happened to him seemed so unfair that I made an exception. Ummm... I guess it didn't hurt that he was kind of smallish: the top of his head was level with my chin and he was slim and not over-muscled. Anyway, we took our clothes off and I led him to the autohang. I tied his wrists in front -- he'd be able to rub himself but not reach his neck -- and put a pulse sensor around his left wrist.

I put my hands around his dong and squeezed it until it started to swell, then I rolled it back and forth between my palms until it was good and hard. I spread some lube on it and rubbed it slowly until he started to drip pre-cum. Then I walked behind him, put the noose around his neck, and adjusted it to be snug. I spread the lube on his tailstar and my own cock and slid into him.

A sharp indrawn breath told me he hadn't been quite ready. "Shhh..." I whispered in his ear. "It's all easy from here on." I kissed the back of his neck, then breathed warm air on his right ear. "Just tell me when you're ready."

I kept kissing his ears and neck, occasionally breathing warm air on them.

"I'm ready. More than ready."

I pulled partway out, then pushed in again. And again. I wrapped my hand around his cock and slid it up and down in time with my thrusts.

After a few minutes he started moaning. Then a slow indrawn breath every time my hand crossed over his frenum. I thrust deeper and faster; I wanted to finish before he did.

"Yes," he whispered. And again with each thrust. And "Yes, yes, yes..." I took my hand from his cock and grabbed his hips, moving in and out as fast as I could, pulling almost all the way out, then thrusting deep into him.

"Yes! Cum inside me, please!" he cried. I rammed in as hard as I could, cumming deep inside him. I stayed there for about 5 seconds, then slowly pulled out. I pushed the autohang's "up" button for just a second. The rope pulled up and the noose started to dig into his neck.

"I can still..." He paused, sucked in air with a choking noise.

I spread a little more lube on his cock. "You do the rest. I'll time the noose for you."

He nodded about a half-inch, wrapped one hand around his organ and started rubbing. I let him do that for about a minute, then touched the button again. He pulled in a strangled breath and rubbed faster. I let him pleasure himself until his hand sped up, then held the button until his feet were six inches off the floor.

"Go for it," I whispered.

He did. rubbing as hard as he could. I put a finger in his hole and rubbed his prostate. After about fifteen seconds he made a quiet gurgling noise in his throat. A few seconds more and white semen came from the end of his member, spurt after spurt after spurt. His face relaxed into a smile as his feet waved randomly. The spurts slowed down, then stopped. His hands fell as far as the ropes would let them, his fingers and toes twitching.

A few minutes later even that stopped. I grabbed a mirror off the table and looked at his face: his pupils were dilated and he stared fixedly into the distance. The pulse meter showed a flat line. Then I signed the execution form and phoned the coroner to pick up the body.

MH: His family didn't get the body?

CM: The Coroner has to certify the execution. Then the body is returned to the family, if one can be found. He'd already bought a gravesite and made funeral arrangements, so the family was able to grieve over him. CMNote: Off the record, for City Editor's eyes only

I asked Mondy about the vic's wife. It turned out that he had taken over supplying her with painkillers. He moved her into a "mother-in-law" on his property and had her sign an execution contract, specifying a drug overdose as the method. Three times a day he visited her and gave her the maximum safe dose of morphine in her hip. That would keep the pain down at the barely noticeable level

This is technically legal. Mondy explained it to me: a sexecutioner can give the client a "taste" of what the execution will feel like, and there is no limit on how many times this can be done. But he wants us to keep this confidential lest the government change the laws.

On the record again

CM: I explained about my rules.

"I know," he told me. "Just... let me feel you in my mouth, give me a handjob, and hang me. Make it quick, please -- I'm not that much into asphyxia."

I ran his card and we made an appointment for that evening. He showed up with three friends who wanted to watch. We got naked and I led him up the stairs to my gallows, weighed him, measured his neck. He knelt in front of me and sucked me until I was good and hard. That made him hard, too. I tied his hands, positioned him on the trapdoor, put the noose around his neck, and adjusted the slack for a longdrop.

I coated my hands with lube and started rubbing him. Slowly, prolonging his pleasure, until he begged me to "just do it." I put lube on my other hand and started rubbing his nipples while I jerked him faster and faster. He moaned, writhed, then screamed as he came. I pushed the button and he fell, a little over 6 feet. We all heard the crunch as the noose broke his neck, but his cock was still spurting, went on for nearly another minute.

I called the mortuary service he'd chosen and they took his body away. And I was happy for him, that I had given him the last pleasure he wanted.

MH: You mentioned the mortuary. Do you ever go to the client's funeral?

CM: I did that a couple of times at first, but the family was uncomfortable. I was the man who killed their father, mother, child. And the man who fucked him or her. Now I only go if I'm specifically invited. And I leave if I sense resentment or discomfort at my presence.

MH: I see. I think. Thank you very much for your time and candor.

CM: You're quite welcome. And give my best regards to Wheeler. She's still City Editor, right?

MH: Yes. I'll pass it on.

Closing note:

After the interview, I contacted US Sexecutioner's Association to find out how they chose "Sexecutioner of the Year." Here's what the society's Secretary told me:

We get a list of sexecutions from the local Registrar of births and deaths. Our interviewer takes a random sampling of those and contacts the relatives. Sometimes they'll refer us to the deceased's friends.

We prompt people to get their memories. How long did the sexecution last? Did the client seem to enjoy it? Did the sexecutioner take time to explain what was going to happen? We do this every couple of weeks so the memories are still fresh when we do the interview. We also talk to people who use our referral service. Sometimes they invite one of our specialists to come as a "friend," so we get direct observation of the candidate's technique and attitude.

The interviewers get together at our headquarters in Chicago and compare notes. It takes about three days, and at the end of that time we have near-unanimous agreement on which sexecutioner should be named.

--30--