Two Months Later
I laid my briefs neatly atop my shorts and shirt on the bed, then I stepped up onto the hanging platform. An equally naked, visibly excited Holden faced me. Marcus tied my hands behind me, his fingers moving magically fast. No surprise there: Marcus had a lot of practice tying Zuchter. Zuchter was tying Holden's hands, while Holden's eyes were fixed on mine. Holden was almost dancing with eagerness to get started, barely able to wait as Zuchter slipped the noose over his neck and tightened it. "Can I try some moves I was thinking about?"
I shook my head firmly. "There's plenty of time for that later. This first time, I just want you to get a feeling for the basics." Holden had remained more or less patient during the weeks of strengthening his neck enough to hold our combined weights. But now that I thought him ready for a pairs hanging, he wanted to do everything at once. I went on, "There are things that are different from hanging by yourself. Balance is a big part of it. When your thighs are squeezing mine, it's not just so you can lift yourself. You also need to use them to keep your upper body leaning toward me. If you start to tip away from me, pushing upward just leans you back farther and doesn't relieve enough pressure on your neck. Concentrate on getting a feel for the balance. And remember not to relax your thighs after you finish breathing. Keep them tight against mine, because I have to push against you so I can breathe. Okay?"
Holden sighed. "It's a lot to remember. It'll get automatic eventually, right? Like regular hanging?"
I smiled. "Sure. In a few days we can try some moves, and by that time you'll just be thinking about them, not the process."
Holden closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he opened them, still focused on me. "Ready."
I nodded, said, "You breathe first," then looked down at Zuchter, holding the lever. "Let each of us do three breathing segments, then bring the platform back up." Zuchter nodded, waited a few seconds, and pulled the lever.
Moments later, both Holden and I dangled, wriggling at the ends of our respective ropes. I automatically turned slightly and pushed my right leg between Holden's. At first Holden seemed to try using his left leg instead, but quickly sensed my movement and thrust his right leg between mine. I should have clarified that beforehand. I clamped my thighs around Holden's right leg. It felt odd to be doing it with someone more slender than Maverick. But Holden seemed to have a feeling for what he was doing. I felt Holden's legs tighten around my right, and felt the increased pressure on my neck as Holden lifted himself. Moments later, I gave Holden's thighs a double-squeeze to signal that I needed air. As the pressure from Holden slackened, I began lifting myself up, and gratefully sucked in a few lungfuls of air. Then came the signal from Holden, so I let myself down to start the cycle again.
Midway through my second breathing segment, I sensed Holden beginning to tip backward, and felt Holden's hips slap against mine as he tried to get his balance back. I waggled my left foot, signaling Zuchter to raise the platform.
As soon as the platform supported him, Holden stamped his foot on it. "Damn it!"
I shook my head. "Holden, it's okay. Maverick and I both did that a few times at first."
Holden's eyes flashed. "I won't do it again. I promise. I know where I went wrong. Can we try again?"
I nodded. "Take a couple of minutes first, to let your breathing get back to normal. And cool down a little. You can't do this when you're mad."
Holden gave ne a tiny smile. "I'll be okay. I'm just not used to screwing up a hanging."
I smiled and rubbed my cheek against Holden's, as much affection as I could display with my hands tied. It would help calm the ocelot. "This is something new, Holden. Give yourself a break."
Holden sighed, closing his eyes once more, not speaking for about fifteen seconds. He opened them again at last, smiled, and said, "Okay."
I nodded to Zuchter, who pulled the lever again.
Holden seemed more sure of himself this time. He seemed to start sensing that I needed a breathing turn, seconds ahead of my signal. I also found myself starting to sense Holden's needs. The transitions were becoming smoother.
I felt the familiar tingling return, different from normal hanging — more intensely erotic, sharing it with another person in intimate physical contact. This was to lovemaking as standard hanging was to masturbation. It was not as intense as it had been with Maverick; my fondness for Holden couldn't come close to matching the depth of my love for Maverick. But I knew, suddenly, that Holden and I would make love later. We had only had sex once before, the time I wanted a first read of Holden's abilities prior to his first party. This would be something different, I sensed.
On my third breathing segment, just before Zuchter pushed the lever back, Holden suddenly turned slightly and planted his lips against mine. I wasn't expecting it this soon, but I'd kissed Maverick often enough in mid-air to go along with the move, moving my lips against Holden's soft ones. It gave me a second locus of arousal, complementing the one between my legs.
I stood as I felt the platform come up under my feet. Holden's lips clung to mine just a second longer before breaking it off.
I smiled at Holden, who now had an ear-to-ear grin. "Remember what I was saying about no moves?"
Holden blinked, still grinning. "I didn't think that counted as a move. I just wanted to see what it would feel like when I kiss Hamish while we're hanging. So I can think about it tonight."
I was suddenly stunned by an insight, seeing a level of intimacy that even Maverick and I hadn't reached. But Holden and Hamish would. The two of them, already two halves of a single person, will feel the degree of merging that is possible when hanging together... I shivered as my mind imagined such an intensity of feeling.
Holden frowned. "Wynn? You okay?"
I took a deep breath. "Oh, yeah. I was just... remembering." Yeah, I thought, he'll buy that. No need to tell him what I was really thinking about. He'll find out soon enough.
Holden bounced on his feet. "If I reminded you of Maverick, I guess I must have been doing it right. Can we do it again? Please?"
I laughed, tickled by Holden's inexhaustible enthusiasm. "A little later, but we need to rest. Let's take about twenty minutes..." I shook my head at Marcus, who had started untying my hands. "No, you can leave that. Just get the nooses off so we can sit awhile."
As Zuchter removed Holden's noose, the ocelot said, "I'm already getting a feeling for it..."
I nodded. "I could tell that."
Holden's grin returned. "So can we try one little move next time? I was thinking I could twist a little and rub my chest against yours."
It was on the tip of my tongue to remind him again that there was plenty of time over the coming weeks, but I laughed instead. Holden's excitement never failed to be infectious. "Okay, but not until the last segment, okay? I still want to focus mainly on the basics for now."
Holden nodded eagerly. "Okay!" He hopped down from the platform, graceful as always despite his tied hands.
I lay with my eyes closed, my skin tingling from Holden's kiss-licks on my belly-fur. I couldn't take much more without pouncing on Holden, but I wanted to prolong the buildup as long as I could.
We had my room to ourselves for the night. Shaw, his hanging just a week away, was spending the night with Wallace and Riley.
I twitched suddenly as the seeming electrical bolt ripped through my body, the accumulation of erotic tension spilling over all at once. That was as much as I could take. I wriggled down the bed to bring my face even with Holden's, covering the ocelot's mouth with mine for a long, moaning kiss. Holden moaned as well, wrapping his arms tightly around me. I kissed my way down his fur until I found his erection, then took it in my mouth. He pulled at my shoulder, and I moved until he was able to reach my cock. He reached down and started playing with it, his hand was wet, oh yes. We kept this up, floating together on the river of want to the eventual waterfall of orgasm.
My breathing returned slowly to normal afterward. I smiled and gave Holden a softer kiss. Holden smiled back, and said huskily, "I love you, Wynn."
Not needing to think about it, I responded, "I love you too, Holden."
Holden looked at me hopefully. "Could you and Hamish make love sometime? I don't want him to miss this."
I blinked. Holden's thoughts were never, at any time, far from Hamish. I was amazed, again, at the commitment to hanging so strong in them that they could agree to such a long separation for the sake of it. I grinned. "Of course, Holden. I don't want to miss it either."
One Week Later
I could easily hear the anticipatory buzz of conversation punctuated by laughter from the other side of the curtain that hid the backyard hanging stage. I finished tightening the noose around Shaw's neck. He hadn't even started hanging yet, but his erection was already visible. The rabbit's fur gleamed in the sunlight, little sparkles from the powder dusted onto it. His eyes, as with every other Hanging Boy I'd known, had that glow of the Big Day. With an open-mouthed grin of excitement, he whispered to me, "I just want to say thank you, one more time. Thank you. Thank you. Okay, that was two more." He giggled.
I kissed him, and whispered back, "I've always considered us even. I got to room with Maverick, and I owe you so much for making that possible. And don't try to tell me again you wouldn't have reached this show without me. You were always going to be one of the best Hanging Boys ever, and nothing could have stopped that."
"Well then, thank you for being such a great roommate yourself the last couple of months." He was about to go on, but his eyes suddenly widened at the sound of footsteps on the stage in front of the curtain. "I think it's time."
I gave him one more kiss, and whispered "Have a great show." I jumped down from the platform and retreated to the back of the stage, taking up a parade-rest posture, with the heart monitor held behind me. I was dressed in an ensemble that was basically black pajamas, with full-length pants and a short-sleeved shirt with a very low neckline. It was all in executioner's black, though I would not be pulling the lever to hang Shaw. It would allow me to disappear into the background of black curtain at the rear of the stage, so that all attention could be focused on Shaw. Sid and Bill, our bodyguards for the show, stood on either side of the stage, standing motionless in black suits.
On the other side of the curtain, Gary Blair, the host for the party cleared his throat. The crowd gradually quieted, Gary said, "I'm glad all of you could be here today. As you know, I've planned a special event here today before dinner."
He went on, "Anyway, most of you have met our guest, but let me have him introduce himself anyway." With that, he pulled on the curtain cord, drawing it aside to reveal Shaw. The revelation, as always, was accompanied by gasps. Several of them had already seen him naked in bed, beforehand, but this was different. There he was atop his platform, a living, nude, golden statue of a rabbit in the sunlight. It was as if he were ten feet tall, it was stunning.
Shaw beamed at the crowd of about thirty, as the gasps and whispers died out. "Hi! I'm Shaw, and I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to hang out with all of you. But at least I'll hang for all of you."
As the laughter subsided, he went on, "Okay, does everybody have their numbered tickets? Does anybody not have one?" Some members of the crowd reached into their pockets, some nodded. None spoke. Shaw went on, "Okay, we've got three prizes to give out. The first is for first choice part of my fur — anywhere on my body. While Mr. Blair holds the bowl with numbered slips of paper, my friend Wynn will reach in and pick one out. Wynn?" Shaw turned to look at me.
Choking back a laugh, I stepped forward, reflecting on the wide variety of ideas among people who bought Hanging Boys. I'd never seen a party anything like this. As Blair held the bowl toward me, I reached blindly into the bowl, fished out one of the slips of paper, and held it up so Shaw could see.
Shaw squinted. "Okay, uhhh... thirteen. Right?" I nodded in confirmation. There was a squeal of delight from a femme who was either the girlfriend or wife of a male who was holding up his hand with a grin. The male came up to the stage and stepped up onto it, showing his ticket to Blair.
Blair patted him on the back. "Well done, Davey. Oh, here." Blair pulled a black marking pen out of his pocket. "You'll need this. Just pick out a section and outline it."
The man named Davey blinked in surprise. "What, right on him?"
Blair grinned. "Go on, mark your territory, Davey."
Shaw looked down, smiling. "You can come up here with me if you need to."
Looking slightly embarrassed, Davey stepped up onto the platform beside Shaw. Out of the corner of his eye, he must have seen Bill, the bodyguard, watching him warily. To Shaw, Davey said, "Uhhh, okay to touch?"
Shaw nodded. "Sure, just don't push me off, of course."
Self-consciously, Davey ran his hand over the back of Shaw's thigh, then up over his buttock. Shaw twitched slightly and giggled. Shaw said to him, "That's fine, if that's what you want, but really, anywhere."
Davey smiled, took a deep breath, reached up and caressed Shaw's lush chestfur on the left. Shaw laughed. "Yeah, I thought so. If you want it, go ahead and mark it."
Davey uncapped the pen, and slowly outlined the left side of Shaw's chest. Giving the crowd an uncertain smile, he hopped down from the platform, to laughter and applause from the crowd, and a shout of "Yes, Davey!" from his girlfriend/wife.
As Davey jumped down from the stage, Blair raised the bowl again, and looked up at Shaw.
Burying a case of giggles, Shaw said, "Okay, the next prize winner gets to cut my head off after I'm dead. Show them, please, Wynn."
I stooped to pick up sword from the stage floor, then stepped forward. "This is one of our Hanging Academy traditions. The winner should wait until we cut Shaw's body down, then bring the sword down right here... could I have that marker?" I accepted it from Blair, and made a dotted line across the back of Shaw's neck. "Just swing it down hard in a circular arc — I demonstrated the move — and be ready to get a little blood on your clothes." I smiled and reached for the bowl, turning my face away again, and pulled out another slip, holding it up for Shaw.
The rabbit gestured, and I held it up a little higher. "Okay, five. Who has..."
The answer became obvious as a young man yelped and covered his face with his hands. Taking his hands down to reveal a grin, he came forward and jumped up on the stage.
Blair nodded happily to him, "Okay, Malcolm!"
Malcolm turned to me, hesitating. "So what do I need to do?"
I smiled at him. "Nothing, yet. But hold this." I handed him the sword. "You can stand back there with me during the hanging, and I'll let you know when to make the chop." Malcolm nodded nervously and retreated to the back of the stage where I had been standing.
Shaw was almost bubbling over with excitement. With a grin, he said, "Okay, now we come to the big prize — at least that's my opinion." More laughs. "Get your tickets ready, because the next winner gets to hang me. Wynn?" He waited as I reached into the bowl one more time.
Shaw squinted again. "Okay, the winner is..." He paused, letting anticipation build. "Eighty-one!" He frowned. "Wait, there can't be..." Then he laughed. "Wynn, you've got it upside down!"
An excited male voice in the crowd said, "Oh, eighteen?" I nodded, and the male pumped both fists exultantly and ran up to the stage.
Blair led the applause. "Way to go, Judd!"
The boy grinned happily, and turned immediately to me as the expert. "Okay, what do I do?"
I rested my palm on the lever. "When you're ready, just pull this back toward you." It occurred to me that Judd might find the task a little more difficult when the time came. In a low voice, I asked, "Have you snuffed anybody before?"
Judd nodded. "My older brother. We hanged him at home at his thirty-fifth birthday party. Of course, it was nothing like this, with so many people and..." He indicated the platform. "...fancy equipment. I just pulled the bucket out from under him."
I smiled at him. "That must have been great." In a still lower voice, I said, "Just do it when you're ready. You don't need to ask him. As soon as you pull it, back off out of the way so everybody can concentrate on Shaw."
Judd nodded again, his face growing serious as he prepared for his official duties. He grasped the lever firmly, and in seconds, the crowd grew very still. Judd stood still for several beats, a smile curling the corners of his lips. Shaw had his eyes closed, breathing deeply, slowly, evenly.
In pin-drop silence, or as near as it gets to it outdoors, Judd gave the lever a firm pull, and quickly backed away. Shaw began sinking, and the rope grew taut and soon pulled him aloft.
Shaw was now fully erect, more than half of his cock sticking out of its sheath. As soon as he established his kicking rhythm, he began his performance with his own strength: his desperation stretching/wriggling. This drew oohs from the crowd, then the familiar gasps and aroused moans as he cycled through the now-standard choreography, including Holden's new move. Judd was watching wide-eyed and open-mouthed. I smiled to myself. Now Judd can see the difference between an amateur and a trained professional. I immediately apologized to myself for the thought. Even in the privacy of my head, I didn't want to insult the memory of Judd's brother. His snuff had no doubt been exciting in its own way.
Even in just these first few minutes, I could hear the groans of approaching sexual climaxes. Shaw must have heard the sounds too; he seemed now to be concentrating on the moves that brought the greatest reaction.
Twenty minutes later, the audience now enthusiastically applauding, Shaw spasmed in his last orgasm, and spurted semen all the way up to his chest. He gave a few final listless kicks, and was still. The rabbit's body was still twisting and swinging from his earlier maneuvers, but that was gradually dying out. I watched him carefully, holding the heart monitor, though only to confirm the judgment of my own experienced eye as to the moment of death. I was aware of Malcolm, standing tensely beside me, waiting for my cue.
The thought crossed my mind that every young adult seeks out signs of his or her own maturity, having spent nearly their entire lifetimes regarding themselves as kids and wanting to embrace their new promotion to adulthood. That's part of the excitement I feel at these moments, I told myself. When I see a friend my own age hanging dead, about to be turned into fur, I know I'm an adult, not a boy. I can have what Shaw has just had, the fulfilling end every prey is entitled to. And I'm ready for it, just as Shaw was ready for it. I have to wait for it, but it will be here soon.
I glanced at the heart monitor; Shaw was gone. I signaled Sid and Bill, and the three of us climbed onto the platform. Sid pushed the lever to raise the platform. When it reached Shaw's dangling feet, Sid and Bill lifted him up, and I removed the noose. We laid him on the platform, then lowered it to the stage again. I caught Malcolm's eyes and gave him an encouraging go-ahead gesture.
Malcolm made no move to emerge from his background position against the curtain. He stammered, "I just... I just...?" He made a brief chopping motion with the sword, and gave me a questioning look.
I smiled at him. "Go ahead. He won't feel it, I promise."
"Oh, it's not that. I mean, I know he's dead, but..." He gestured vaguely at the crowd. "They're not."
Malcolm's girlfriend was giving him encouraging hand gestures. But Malcolm seemed terminally shy, unwilling to be the center of attention of a crowd of people in a party mood. I touched the boy's upper arm gently. "Do you want me to do it? I've done it before." I glanced toward Blair, who was within earshot. He snorted and nodded, smiling.
Malcolm grinned happily. "Oh, would you?" Eagerly he handed me the sword.
I shrugged, walked forward, and raised the sword. Looking over the crowd, I grinned. "You guys ready to see Shaw give head?"
Everyone shouted, "Yes!"
I hoped the Academy cleaners would be able to get the bloodstains out of this outfit. I brought the sword down. Sid offered me Shaw's head, but I held my hand up, palm toward him, mouthing, "Wait."
I turned to Malcolm. "You want to hold it up for everybody?" I asked softly. He nodded about 1 inch, and I gestured for Sid to hand him Shaw's head. Malcolm wrapped one hand around Shaw's headfur, and lifted the head high in the air. The crowd cheered and applauded once more.
I breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the door to the student area clicked closed behind me. As far as I knew, I didn't need to leave the grounds again until my own hanging — which not only made that event feel tantalizingly close, but also meant I could stop thinking about Andrew. Possibly I would never need to think about Andrew for the rest of my life. I hoped.
Early as it was I felt like going straight to bed. I was a little tired for sex, and hoped Marcus would understand. My three students would be taking turns spending nights in my room while the other two slept in their own room in the Second Year dorm.
I opened the door to my room, blinked, and choked back a laugh. Marcus wasn't there, but Zuchter was.
The stallion was kneeling beside the bed, along its long side, bent over it, his upper body resting on the bed itself. He was tied to the bed by about eight ropes. He couldn't move, he was blindfolded and gagged. And naked, of course.
His waist was circled by a wide, multicolored ribbon, tied in a big bow in the small of his back.
Beside his hip, on the edge of the bed, there was a big jar of Vaseline.
At the sound of the door opening, the stallion raised his head, the two inches that he could, facing blindly in my direction, and mmmmphed something unintelligible.
I felt my tiredness slip away from me in the same way my clothes did as I shrugged out of them. Marcus knew exactly what I needed tonight.
I knelt behind Zuchter, untying the bow and removing the ribbon. I ran my fingers through Zuchter's mane, feeling him shiver, hearing his moans of anticipation. I spent a few minutes giving Zuchter wet kisses along his back, down to his buttocks, and licked my way down Zuchter's thigh.
When I judged the moment was right, I touched the tip of my very hard cock to Zuchter's tailhole. With a high-pitched squeal, Zuchter's whole body tensed, and he tried to thrust his hips back to bring me inside. I teased him with it a moment longer, then pushed it in slowly. It slid into Zuchter almost frictionlessly, and he made a low grunting sound that expressed both satisfaction and need.
I leaned forward, and reached around Zuchter to play with his bellyfur. I kissed Zuchter's neck softly, and teased his nipples. Then I started thrusting. As Zuchter's moans became more rapid, breathy, and higher pitched, my own excitement and anticipation rose as well. When I felt my climax nearing, I reached down and slapped Zuchter's cock a few times. That was all it took, he screamed into his gag and gave out spurt after spurt of semen as I came deep into his ass.