I sat at my desk in my room, looking over my returned test paper to see what I'd missed. I was reasonably satisfied with my score of 98, but each student in the Anatomy and Physiology class was required to turn in a short report on his errors, saying what the correct answers should have been. On my paper there was a red mark against the name I'd written next to one of the muscles on a diagram of the chest and lungs. I smiled and shook my head. I'd remembered not feeling sure about that one.
I didn't know most of the other boys' scores, but I'd seen Maverick, sitting two seats ahead in the row to my right, put his paper into his notebook with a smirk — not before I'd seen "100" written at the top. I'd been able to see some other scores for nearby students, a couple in the low 90's, a few more in the 80's. I sighed with relief. I was used to scores like this in school, but had been worried that I was entering a different level of competition.
I looked up as Sumner came into the room. By the look on Sumner's face, something was wrong. "Sumner? Okay?"
Sumner sat abruptly on his bed and pulled out his own test paper. I'd seen Sumner color slightly when the paper had been handed back, but didn't know him well enough to be able to tell quite what the reaction meant. His feelings were more on the surface now.
Sumner handed the paper to me, and brushed at his eye. He seemed to be fighting to keep from tearing up. "I've never got scores in school like that before."
A large number of red marks jumped out at my eye as I looked at the paper. The score at the top, 72, didn't seem that bad, but then a lot of the questions, especially the multiple choice part, had seemed fairly easy. At least to me. "Most boys I knew in high school would be happy with a score like that."
"I'm not most boys! I always got A's! High school was always just easy stuff. I hardly even had to study for it! I read all the material for this, but it's not sticking." A tear did manage to escape Sumner's brushing finger and dribble down his cheek.
I'd been wondering if something like this was coming. Sumner did indeed spend time studying, but I never saw him marking up the book or taking down notes while reading. Or flipping back and forth to try to connect ideas together. I suspected high school might have so easy for Sumner that he hadn't learned to study. Studying came naturally to me, but one thing clear about Sumner was that he had a hard time making himself do things his heart wasn't in. "Well, look, it's just one test. It's kind of a new environment here. You'll get used to it."
Sumner looked really unhappy. "We've got that Chemistry test tomorrow. I'm just not getting that at all." He took the test paper back and threw it down on the bed. "I don't get why we need to take Chemistry anyway! We're supposed to learn to hang, not do experiments in a chem lab!"
"Well, I guess the way I'm seeing it is, our lives depend on chemicals. Especially when we're hanging. I think we can probably get a lot out of learning what oxygen is and how it works in our bodies." I stopped as Sumner shot me a sour look.
I thought a moment about how to word the offer. I didn't want to just say "Want me to help you?" because I didn't want to sound superior. And Sumner couldn't be used to needing that sort of help. "Ummm... I'm kind of confused about those last chem assignments, too. If we worked together we could help each other."
Sumner looked up and brushed his eyes again. "That... yeah. That would be good." He looked yearningly at the rope hanging down from the ceiling ring. "Could we practice hanging first? I'd feel better after I do that."
That would relax Sumner. It did seem to be the only thing that really made the boy happy.
I closed the door of the room — most of the boys did that when they practiced hanging — and hunted for the handcuffs while Sumner discarded his uniform. Sumner looked really attractive when he was naked, but I certainly wasn't going to force myself on him. I hooked the platform out from under the TV with my foot, and centered it under the rope.
I followed Sumner up onto the platform and put the rope around his neck. "We only get to do it for sixty seconds," I reminded him.
Sumner nodded that he understood.
I started to get hard moments later, as Sumner lost contact with the platform and began to kick. I did my best to ignore it. I'd practice hanging later. I've got to help Sumner first. He needs that a lot more than I need to have some fun.
There was a knock at the door. "Hold on!" I called out, keeping my eyes on Sumner. I wondered if Sumner had seen Maverick hang yet. I decided to wait until later to tell him about the things Maverick had been able to do.
My watch beeped, and I raised the platform. Sumner sighed yearningly as I loosened the noose. He'd want to do it again before we went to sleep. More than once, probably. I intended to take at least one turn, but studying came first.
I went to see who was at the door. It was Larry. "Wynn, want to come watch 'Headhunters'?" It was one of our favorite TV series.
I ducked out into the hallway with Larry and pulled the door closed. "I'll try to get with you guys later, but I need to help Sumner study. He's kind of worried about his grades," I whispered.
Larry nodded. He whispered back, "See you in awhile." He kissed me and trotted back up the hall.
I went back into the room, smiling. "Feel like a little fun with chemistry?"
Sumner laughed. Hanging had really done him a lot of good. "Okay. Let's use my book." He sat at his own rarely-used desk, waiting as I pulled my desk chair over. "I'm really not getting the stuff about electron shells in the atoms. I mean, what are the shells supposed to be made of? I thought atoms themselves were what everything was made out of."
I sat down. "Well, they don't mean the shells are something physical. It's just a way of thinking of it that helps explain what the electrons are doing..."
I started carrying my tray toward the table Larry and Leo were sitting at in the caf, but stopped when I spotted Maverick sitting by himself. I sighed heavily. It's worth a try.
Maverick looked up as I reached the table. He didn't look too welcoming, but I was resolved. "Mind if I sit with you?"
Maverick shrugged, and pulled his tray back slightly to make room for mine on the other side.
I looked for an opening. "How are the eggs?"
Maverick looked down as if actually examining them. "Scrambled."
Okay, enough of that. "I can tell you're not big on small talk, so I'll just say it. Could you go a little easier on some of the boys in class?"
Maverick looked surprised. "Me? What did I do?"
"It's... Oh, you know what I'm talking about. Those little snorts and shaking your head when somebody asks a question in class. I know it hurts Sumner, and I'm sure it makes the others feel bad too."
Maverick gave a short laugh. "Well, when they ask stuff like 'If the protons all repel each other, why do they stick to each other in the nucleus?' what am I supposed to do?"
"You know that's not a dumb question!"
"Yeah, if somebody hasn't read the assignment. It talks about that right in there."
I shook my head. "You know everybody's working hard. We're all trying to learn a lot of new things all at once. You just don't have to be... nasty. If you're not happy with somebody's question, just let it go."
Maverick put a forkful of eggs in his mouth. "I could tell you that you don't need to keep being nice to everybody all the time."
"That's not something I do because I feel like I have to. I'm just being the way I am."
Maverick nodded. "Well, there you go. So am I."
I searched for some way to get through. "You know how hard the school works to try to make sure everybody learns something from everybody else. You're so good at all of this — all of this. You could raise all of us to a higher level if you'd try to help. Laughing at everybody just pushes them down."
He took a bite of a sweet roll. "You're not as bad as the rest. You've got some good moves when you're hanging. Why don't you help them?"
I tried not to react to the compliment. "That's the point! I do! At least I try to."
Maverick smiled. "Guess they don't need me then." He finished the sweet roll.
I stared at him for a minute, then gave up. He stood and picked up his tray. "See you in class." Maverick gave me a vague wave.
I went over to sit next to Larry. I felt soiled, like I did after talking to Andrew.
Before I could say anything to Larry, I noticed Jack had come up and squatted next to me. He put his hand on my shoulder. "Thanks for trying, Wynn."
"For the record, it didn't accomplish anything."
"Some things need to be done anyway." Jack patted my shoulder and went back to his own table.
I stood beside my mailbox and pulled my one-month report card out of its envelope. I couldn't help feeling a little nervous, even though I knew my grades would be good.
The card showed my grades for the first month of classes, including hanging practice, as well as a score based on the time spent on my exercise program at the gym. At the bottom was an overall average, and a class rank. Wow!! I was number two in the class! I felt elated that all my work was paying off.
I didn't need to ask around to figure out who was number one.
I was almost floating back to my room. I can handle the Hanging Academy! I'm one of the top students!
I noticed the door to my room was slightly ajar. Hope Sumner's in there, I thought. And I hope he got some good news.
I entered the room and just stopped.
Sumner was there, on his bed, pressed back against the corner of the walls, his knees drawn up, gnawing nervously at the back of his hand. Tears were running down his cheeks.
Sumner's report card lay on the bed, out of its envelope.
I closed the door of the room and walked toward him slowly. "Sumner? Are you okay?"
Sumner seemed to hunch farther into himself, and shook his head.
I wasn't sure what to do. I nodded toward the card. "Do you want me to look at it? Or not?"
Sumner nodded his head briefly, more tears welling from his eyes.
I sat on Sumner's bed and picked up the card carefully, as if it were a snake that might or might not be dead. I knew where to look first.
Sumner's class rank was 55, out of 58. He was in the bottom five.
From the bottom five, this month and every second month from now on, one of the five names would be chosen at random, and the chosen boy would be hanged at a class demonstration. This month's demonstration was scheduled for tomorrow.
I squeezed onto the bed next to Sumner and put my arm across his shoulders. He seemed to melt against me. "Sumner, it probably won't be you. You know that. Look, after dinner we'll figure out what to do to bring your grades up higher. Okay?" I tried to get Sumner to look in my direction. "Okay?"
Sumner looked at me for an instant and then away. I looked at the card again. "I mean, one thing we could get higher right away is your gym participation. You just need to start logging more time on the equipment. You know you can do that."
Sumner shrugged, sniffling. "S'boring."
"I know, Sum. I get bored too. But it helps make us what we want to be. Our bodies have to be perfect. We're Hanging Boys!"
"I know, I know." Sumner pounded his fists on his knees.
"And then later we can work on some assignments together. I don't mind, really. It helps me too." Long gone was any pretense that Sumner and I were at the same level academically. Sumner could see through that easily by now.
Sumner sighed. "Thanks, Wynn."
I was about to go on when the announcement speaker in the room made a slight crackling sound. We were used to that. It preceded announcements made to all the rooms.
This one seemed strange, though. It was Gil, one of the two "dorm parents," graduates who acted as immediate supervisors for the First Year boys, and he was speaking very softly. "I need to see Sumner Fennel in my room, please." I was pretty sure the announcement hadn't gone to any of the other rooms.
Sumner let out a gasping breath. "Wynn? Come with me?"
I reached up and stroked Sumner's headfur, the first time I'd done anything remotely like that. "Sure. Look, this probably doesn't mean anything. They'll tell you it's not you. They'd have to tell all the candidates, no matter what. They wouldn't want four of them worrying all night for nothing."
Sumner managed a smile. "Yeah." He scooted toward the side of the bed and took my hand. I didn't think he was going to let go of it anytime soon.
Gil and Brian were recent graduates helping out as dorm parents. They shared a room just around the corner from the First Year dorm hallway. Gil opened the door when I knocked. He looked a little surprised to see me, but nodded slightly when he saw Sumner beside me. "Sumner, come in. Do you want Wynn to come in with you?"
Sumner nodded, and squeezed my hand tighter.
The room was larger than a student room, and had a table with chairs around it in addition to the usual dorm furnishings. Brian was already in one of the chairs, his leathery wings folded up, resting his chin on the backs of his hands, his elbows on the table. Sumner and I took the seats nearest the door; Gil sat across from us.
I studied both boys' faces before either spoke, and my heart sank. Gil lowered his red prick-ears and broke the silence. "Sumner, I think you already know what I'm going to say."
Still silent, Sumner nodded again. A new tear rolled from his eye, following the tracks of the others.
Gil sighed. "I know it can't feel very good, being the first. Every boy here has dreams of going much farther than this. But I want you to know that you'll be doing a great service to the Academy. And I promise that your body and your fur will be treated with all of the honor and dignity you've earned by serving the Academy." He stopped, waiting for a response from Sumner.
Sumner nodded once more and said in a tiny voice, "Thank you."
The fox paused for several seconds, then went on. "The demonstration is scheduled for 11 am tomorrow. Would you be ready by then? It could be postponed as late as 8PM if you need more time to say goodbyes."
Sumner shook his head slightly. In that same tiny voice, he said, "No, eleven is okay."
Brian added, in his counter-tenor voice: "We'll be up early tomorrow. If you have any requests for who you'd like to have speak at your service, or who should get any particular parts of your pelt, please let us know." He looked at Sumner sympathetically. "Okay?"
Gil spoke again. "Do you have anything you want to ask now?"
Sumner shook his head.
The bat asked quietly, "Do you want us to leave you alone for awhile?"
Sumner took a deep breath, and shook his head. "Could I go back to my room now?"
Gil reached out and held Sumner's other hand. "The Academy will always remember you, Sumner."
Sumner said, "Thank you," again.
I knew it would be my job to get Sumner moving. I stood up, giving Sumner's hand a very gentle tug upwards. I looked at both Gil and Brian. "Thank you. I know that was hard."
Gil gave me a small nod and blinked back a tear of his own.
Sumner was standing, now. I rubbed one shoulder against Sumner's, and whispered, "Let's go, Sum."
Back in our room, I closed the door. Sumner let go of my hand and sank onto his bed in a fetal position.
I shook my head. We can't have this.
I sat beside Sumner on his bed, and put my hand on his shoulder. "We're hanging boys, Sum. We're all ready to be snuffed. It's what we're for"
Sumner shook his head against the bed, and said in a tired voice, "It's not that. You know it isn't. I'm as ready to die as any boy. It's just..." He ground his palms against his eyes. "I never failed at anything before!" The tears were flowing freely now. "I was always one of the top students. It came so easy. Too easy, I guess. I didn't know how to handle it when it got hard."
I let my roommate cry for a minute. Then I put my arm across his shoulders and started tugging on him. "Sit up, Sum. Sit up for me."
Sumner slowly sat up on the bed, not because he wanted to but because he had, at this moment, very little will of his own. If I wanted him up, he'd be up.
I moved around to kneel between Sumner's legs. I put my hands gently on either side of Sumner's face. I wanted Sumner's full attention — wanted to be so directly in front of him he couldn't look anywhere else. "Sumner, listen to me. You are not a failure. You know there were over three hundred boys who applied for admission this year. Only sixty-five of us got in. You're the cream. When the cream comes to the top, some of it gets drunk first. But you are part of that cream."
That brought a tiny smile. It vanished quickly, though. "Then why do I feel like a failure? I'm the first one out. I barely made it through a month!"
I saw Marshall's head out of the corner of my eye. I closed my eyes for a moment, drinking in the inspiration Marshall always gave me. I opened myself up to Marshall.
Suddenly I saw beyond the surface of Marshall's head. To what lay underneath. Within.
I opened my eyes and looked at Sumner again. "You know, just because you're here, just because you earned your way here, just because you're an Academy boy, you get something that goes beyond what most preymales ever dream of."
Good. I seemed to have Sumner hooked. "What's that?"
"You know for almost all prey, the biggest thing they can have, the thing that can make them happiest of all, is knowing that their pelts will be used, worn by the people they love the most. Not every prey-anthro gets that, but it's what we dream of. You have more than that."
Sumner's eyes went wide. "What is it?"
"Every boy in our class will carry a piece of your headfur for the rest of their lives, as a memento of you, but... we'll also have you in our heads. And I don't just mean we'll remember you. We will, of course. But the knowledge we have, the training we have, everything that makes us what we're trying to become — part of that will be what we learn from you, from your hanging." I took my hands off Sumner's face and touched my own head with them. "You'll be part of my cloak, and you'll also be part of my mind. In the most important part. You'll be part of my identity as a Hanging Boy."
Slowly, the corners of Sumner's mouth twitched upward. He said, softly, "Yeah." He sighed then. "I still just wish I could have... you know, put on a show. I know what you're saying, but... you understand what I mean, right? I love hanging, but there's more to it than just that."
I swallowed my instinctive response that Sumner had already done a show, something I suspected few of my classmates could say. That would just remind Sumner of his lost dreams of reaching a higher level...
"You were Jansen before. What if you could be again?"
Sumner looked lost. "What?"
"Tomorrow, what if it could be more than just a demonstration in front of all your classmates? What if we put on a show for them? That show. You already know all your lines. You could write mine down for me."
Sumner's wide-eyed stare matched mine. I hoped Sumner was following me. I relaxed as Sumner's lost look slowly turned to excitement. "Yeah! Yeah!! Let me think if I'd need anything... wait!" He frowned. "They wouldn't let us do that. We can't mess around with a demonstration."
"We wouldn't have to mess with it! Once you're up in the air, would you act any different? I mean, when you're hanging, you'll try to do the best you can no matter what, right?"
Sumner nodded excitedly. He fingered his lip, thinking. "In the play, I wore kind of a ragged robe, almost like a toga, that they ripped off me just before the hanging."
I laughed. "I've seen something like that. But..." I tried to think how we could get an appropriate prop on short notice. "We can make do with a bedsheet. Anything else?"
"Wynn, really, what if they don't let us?"
I jumped off the bed and grabbed Sumner's hand, almost yanking him toward the door. "Let's ask Gil and Brian."
We pounded down the hallway, almost knocking down one of the boys who was just coming out of his room. After we rounded the corner, Sumner himself pounded on the dorm parents' door. "Gil? Brian?"
Gil opened the door in a hurry. "Is there a fire? Why aren't the alarms going?"
Sumner laughed. He blurted out, the words almost running together as one, "Gil Wynn and me want to put on just a quick little show before the demonstration it'll just take a few minutes please can we do that?"
Gil stared at him as Brian came up behind. "Could you go through that again, a little slower?"
I said, "Gil, we have just this little short show from a play we want to put on, just before we do the demonstration. It won't take anything away from the demo. Like the kind of show you'll put on when you're sold, only scaled down. Please?" I gave both boys my most winning look.
Gil looked at Brian, neither of them knowing what to say. Finally Brian said, "Let me call the Dean."
Sumner and I returned to our room, holding hands again, giggling. The Dean had said yes.
Sumner ran for his bed and waved me over. "We still have to plan some. I'll write down some lines for you, like you said."
Again, seeing Marshall's head reminded me of something. "What about your headfur?" I remembered Bailey putting Marshall in "prince" mode, like it was yesterday. "Did they do anything to it for the play?"
Sumner shook his head. "Not really. Just regular me."
I laughed. "Well, you had to go back to school the next day. But you're a prisoner. Your headfur should be really short. Prison cut."
Sumner nodded emphatically. "Right! Wynn, you cut it. Make it look really raggedy, like they didn't care how they cut it."
I started toward my drawer for some scissors, but stopped. "Wait. We can't make it look ugly. Your head is going to be in the Hall of Honor forever!"
"Oh yeah!" Sumner sighed, grinning. "I didn't want to end up there, but it sounds really good right now." The Hall of Honor was inside the secured area — it was maintained for the students, so they could see the boys who had gone before them and given their lives for the school. The head of every boy who had been hanged at a demonstration or at a party was displayed in the Hall, each in its own separate niche, each niche with special lighting that was never turned off. His name was engraved on a plaque, with the date he died, and there was a drawer underneath containing handwritten notes from students in remembrance of him. Every boy in the school had visited the Hall, many of them more than once.
"Let's do this, then. In the morning, we'll go to the hairdresser." The school maintained a permanently staffed hair salon, which became very busy just before parties. Luckily, there was no party this week. "They can figure out just how to do it."
Sumner nodded again. "Yeah! Oh, this is so..." Sumner stopped and blinked several times, looking at me intently. He reached out and put his hand on my hip. "Wynn, you're the best roommate anybody ever had. You've done so much for me, even before today, and I think maybe I've kind of taken you for granted a little. I want... maybe you don't want to. You've never said." Sumner's hand was lightly stroking my waist now. His face was lightly flushed.
The way Sumner was rubbing my hip, accompanied by the look in his eyes, left no doubt what he meant. I felt a flush spreading through my body. My desire for Sumner was nearly overwhelming. Nobody in my class but Maverick had made me feel that way before, and with Maverick the feeling was tainted with repulsion for the boy's personality. "Sumner, I thought you said you didn't like doing it with males."
The mouse shook his head, his eyes never leaving mine. "You're not a male."
I laughed. "I always thought I was."
Sumner leaned closer. "You're just a person who's very special and happens to have a squirrel's tail and a cock." His flush grew deeper, and his voice came out quavery and husky. "Now that I know how much you care about other people, about me, it doesn't matter that you have a dick instead of a pussy. This is my last night, and I want to make love to you. I want to see you, and hear you, and feel you, and smell you, and taste you, and nothing but you, all night long."
I smiled, breathing in quick, shallow sips. Slowly, I peeled the shirt over my head and dropped it on the floor.
Sumner grinned, his mouth wide open, and pulled off his own shirt
We fell toward each other then, giggling as our arms battled momentarily to see whose could get around the other first. We held each other tightly, our chests pressed together, open mouths locked together and moving against each other, making soft moaning sounds. We necked, hands feeling each other's shapes, for a long time, but I knew what he needed. I bent my knees until I could get at his nipples, and started kissing them. After a while, he said, "Me, too," and pointed at my bed. I lay down and he reversed over me and started kissing my nipples, while I continued working on his. After maybe ten minutes, he said, "More, please?" I slid off the bed and knelt on the floor, kissing my way down his belly while I unzipped his shorts. But when I got to his center, I skipped over it and started licking his inner thighs, starting at his knees and working my way up.
I started licking his cock, listening to his moans. When I thought he was ready, I took him between my lips and sucked him, showing him that my mouth worked just as well as a femme's. He'd been without sex for a month, so it only took 2 minutes for him to come. I swallowed it all.
Then he wanted to do the same for me, but I pushed him away. "Wait, it will be better when you're hot again." We pushed the two beds together and cuddled on them, stroking each other's bodies and occasionally kissing.
We had stopped giggling long ago. It was almost hypnotic, being so close to each other. There came a time when he wanted to try, and I told him, "If you get turned off, or you start gagging, just stop. There's lots of other ways to have fun." He nodded, slid down, and started licking me. Then he took me in his mouth. He wasn't very good at it at first, but it didn't really matter. Just the fact that he was willing was a joy to me. I coached him in how to use his hand and mouth in sync, and put a hand on the back of his head to show him the right speed. I kept him slow for a long time, wanting to prolong this. But eventually I couldn't stand any more, and I sped him up and came in his mouth. I gave him a tissue to spit it into.
We cuddled some more. Time went by, minutes? Hours? We stroked each other. He wanted another go, so I got some lube and spread it on his cock. "I may not have a pussy, but I have something almost as good." I lay down and raised my legs, and he propped himself over me. I guided him into me, and it was so good. He took a long time, and I came when he did.
After that, I suggested we just keep each other partly aroused without actual sex. We cuddled and played with each other's bodies. I could feel his body touching mine, from our heads where we lay cheek to cheek, all the way to our intertwined feet. This would be one of my favorite memories of my entire life.