I stood with the noose around my neck, holding both of Maverick's hands, feeling Maverick's buttocks rubbing against mine. We could hear the rising hubbub of conversation through the curtain around us as the club members gathered. My heart was fluttering with excitement. Maverick and I had done nine shows in the last three years, but this, our tenth, was special.
The noise level dropped suddenly, and I took a slow, deep breath. The curtain would rise soon. I rubbed the back of my head against Maverick's, and murmured a quick "Love you," to which he responded, "Love you."
Outside the curtain, I heard Jack clear his throat, and begin the introduction. "I want to welcome all of the members here tonight, as our First Year students host their first party." During the last year, Maverick and I had begun appearing at parties for other classes. Our class no longer hosted its own parties, of course: we were graduates. "Later, at the end of the evening, the First Year class will proudly present Tony Cermont, who will be hanged for your entertainment. But now we have an addition to the usual program, one that we present from time to time. I believe all of you know, by now, that this feature will not end in death, but I'm sure you won't fault the stars of our show for that. Ladies, gentlemen, performing together for the final time..." Jack gave special emphasis to the word, "...the Hanging Academy, and its graduates, are happy to present Mr. Wynn Cameron and Mr. Maverick Sadler!"
As the curtain was drawn upward, I buried a smile at the honorific applied to my name — as if I were a free anthro. I let go of Maverick's hands before they became visible, and crossed my wrists in front of my crotch. My hands were not tied for this performance. My only restraints were two silvery chains, each running from a metal cuff around one wrist to connect to a similar chain around my waist. As I moved, the audience would be able to see that the chains were too short for my hands to reach my neck. Maverick and I had some freedom of movement, but it was important that we still couldn't save ourselves.
The audience took in a collective breath as Maverick and I were revealed, our bodies bare and glitter-powdered for the spotlights.
I liked to sweep my eyes across the onlookers on my side of the cage, before clearing my mind for the performance. In addition to the club members in attendance, and the First Year boys who would be hosting them in private sessions following the auction, all of the remaining living graduates were there. Students in the other classes were not allowed in the party pavilion tonight, but I knew that Marcus and Zuchter were watching through the small grill overlooking the party room.
I also saw Holden, standing near the front of the crowd, next to Shaw. Holden's eyes were wide, trying to take in everything at once, and he nodded as Shaw pointed something out to him. Then Holden pointed to something else, leaning toward Shaw with a question. Holden was dressed for the party in a bathrobe-shaped thing of semi-transparent green that ended at the tops of his thighs. It was held up by an elastic band across his chest, leaving his arms and shoulders bare. The top few inches were opaque across his chest, but still thin enough to be dimpled slightly by his nipples. His belly was visible behind the gauzy fabric, already showing taut abs from his workouts in the gym. So were the thong briefs in darker green. His legs were bare, and he stood in green felt slippers. The overall effect was that he appeared ready to surprise his lover with a very intimate evening planned for the bedroom. Holden had picked out the outfit himself, and I couldn't imagine improving on it. His reddish headfur was mostly swept back behind his ears. He looked both adorable and magnetically sexual.
I was surprised to see Ted Bloom, also near the front. I hadn't seen Ted at any previous parties, even though he'd been a club member for nearly a year — because of buying Larry. Ted had an odd look on his face — "dumbfounded" was as close as I could come to describing it. I wondered whether it was merely surprise at seeing Maverick and me, but his reaction seemed to go beyond that.
The crowd hushed still further now, as the overhead lights were dimmed, leaving only the spotlights from four directions picking out Maverick and me in the center of the room.
The crowd disappeared from my perception. There was nothing but the touch of Maverick behind me, the feel of the platform under my feet, and the soft caress of the rope around my neck.
I started the script, growling furiously, "It's your fault we were caught! And now we're going to be hanged for it!"
Maverick, behind me, snapped, "my fault?? You told me the courtyard was clear of guards!"
I replied angrily, "It was! You should have had time. Why were you so slow? It's your fault for not running faster!"
Maverick snarled, "You got me into this. Did you ever really love me?"
"The assassination was your idea! And I did love you! With all my heart!"
"I loved you too — Oh no!" This was the final line of dialogue, spoken in reaction to the beginning of the descent of the platform.
I kept breathing steadily and deeply, then I felt myself lifted in the air by the noose. The last bit of nervousness faded away as I snuggled into my comfort zone, suspended by the neck. We had rehearsed this performance many times. My body knew what to do without further thought.
Maverick gave me the first bump — suddenly contracting his stomach muscles to force his buttocks back. They banged hard against mine and sent me swinging forward. My pendulum swing brought me back in contact with Maverick, and I gave the jackal a hard butt-bump of my own.
The crowd laughed, understanding that two angry lovers, unable to continue fighting in words, were now battling physically with our posteriors.
As Maverick swung back again toward me, we interlocked ankles. I pushed downward, tensing my leg muscles to lift myself. The tension in the noose eased, and I took several breaths, then relaxed my legs. That signaled Maverick, and he tensed his own leg muscles, pushing upward to take his own turn at breathing. The audience wouldn't notice this trick, their attention would be caught by each of us slapping the other's hands away.
Each of us now caught the other's hands in his own, interlacing fingers, and now things changed. The audience could see the change in our postures, as if each of us was remembering how much the other meant to him.
We now took turns lifting the other by arm strength alone, while the focus of the audience was shifting back to our feet. I let the inside of my right foot brush upward against the back of Maverick's leg, in a very intimate way — only to stop and straighten my leg quickly, as if remembering that I was still angry at him. Maverick now mirrored that move, his foot briefly caressing my leg before, again, suddenly stopping, pretending he had meant nothing by it. The audience, again, laughed appreciatively.
During my next turn at breathing, I turned my head to the right, as if trying to look behind me at Maverick, and then suddenly faced front again, with a tiny headshake — no, we are not lovers anymore. Maverick did the same when it was his turn to breathe. I repeated the headturn, holding it longer this time, and more slowly turning it back to the front, then closing my eyes, and clearly mouthing the words, "I love you." Then Maverick did the same.
And now it was time for our most difficult move. I let go of Maverick's left hand. I lifted my right foot, pressed the sole of it against Maverick's synchronously upraised left, and both of us pushed. This swung us slowly into grand, opposite circles around our joined hands until we were facing each other. The fronts of our bodies came together gently and we looked into each other's eyes. We had spent more time working on this one move than any we had ever done before. It wasn't enough just to turn to face each other. It had to be as poetic, as graceful, as it was physically possible for it to be.
I allowed my attention to wander to the audience for a moment. The loud gasps told me it had gone perfectly.
Slowly, each of us raised his right thigh high up into the other's crotch, feeling it squeezed there. The first part of the program had been very difficult, with several intervals during which neither of us could breathe — it taken all of our aerobic conditioning to make it through. For the next segment, breathing would be easier, relying only on alternate thigh-squeezing and lifting, and one of us would be breathing at a time.
Each of us put his hands on the other's hips and pulled him closer. We kissed, putting our arms farther around each other. Then we let our hands roam to as many parts of each other's body as we could reach. We held the kiss, rocking our hips in rhythm.
In previous performances we had always had our hands bound, either behind our backs or around each other's waist. Now, even with the chains, we were able to make unfettered love to each other in mid-air.
I didn't need to keep concentrating now. All my movements now were perfectly natural, a combination of my years in the noose and my love for Maverick. Surrounding sounds were filtering into my conscious mind; I could hear the mingled moans and gasps of audience members getting excited by our display.
I gave Maverick's thigh a quick double-squeeze, to signal that we should start our final new move of the program. This was the reason we needed our hands free. I grabbed Maverick by the waist and he did the same to me. He grabbed my squirrel cock between his thighs, and pressed his against my belly. We kept our chests and our lips pressed tightly together. I used my arms to lift myself up to breathe for about 2 seconds, then relaxed while Maverick took his turn breathing. To the audience, it must have looked like we were just rubbing our chests against each other — and Maverick's lovely jackal-dick against my belly. At the same time, we rocked our hips, sliding my cock in between Maverick's thighs. I was in heaven, hanging by my neck while making love to Maverick.
I listened to the sounds now, the choked gasps of orgasm from the audience: they brought my own excitement to a higher level. In other circumstances, without hanging, Maverick and I could have kept each other at this level for nearly an hour, but our time was limited: even with the lifting trick we weren't getting enough air. We had to cut our lovemaking short. I felt the pleasure in my cock build into a fire inside me, hotter, hotter... and released at last, spurting my cum between Maverick's warm, furry thighs and onto the platform. At nearly the same time, I felt ripples under Maverick's hot fur against mine, then a warm wetness against my belly; Maverick had also climaxed.
I let my legs slowly fall, my body go limp My hands slid apart and slipped away from Maverick's waist. Then I caught both of Maverick's hands in my own as our bodies separated, keeping that one contact with my lover after death. My field of vision darkened, and I thought for a moment I was fainting, but it was just the curtain rolling down around us.
I did, in fact, nearly faint just as the platform came up underneath me to touch my feet, but I had enough energy left to support my weight. I could breathe freely now as the pressure from the noose slackened, and I shook my head from side to side to loosen it still further, as Maverick did the same. Jack was with us on the platform now, removing the nooses after determining that both of us were capable of standing. As Jack unlocked our handcuffs and waist chains, I heard the sounds from outside again, applause louder than I had ever heard before.
I hugged Maverick tightly and kissed him, then we reached for the robes that Jack was handing us. I was just getting the robe around me as the curtain rose again, and we stepped out of the cage and waved, grinning, at the crowd. We turned slowly to face all sides as the applause increased in volume. We were intentionally slow pulling our robes closed, making sure the audience could see Maverick's semen on my bellyfur, and the last drops of my own dripping from the end of my slowly shrinking penis.
I smiled as I walked toward my private room, holding Ted Bloom's hand; Ted had outbid everyone else at the auction, paying the highest price Maverick or I had ever fetched. It had gone over eleven thousand by the time the last other bidder dropped out, and it was the first time my sale price had ever topped Maverick's.
Ted looked very distracted, all the way to the room. I suspected Ted was wondering how to act in this situation. I kept smiling at him in an attempt to be reassuring.
On reaching the room and closing the door, Ted seemed even more agitated. I was feeling a little uncertain at the vibes I was getting from Ted, so I sat on the bed, still robed, trying read what Ted wanted. At last I gave up. "Mr. Bloom..."
Ted turned and looked at me. "Oh, no. Ted, please." He did manage a tiny smile. "I do feel as if we're old friends, in a way."
I smiled again. "There is that. Okay then... Ted. Would you like..." I frowned. Ted had resumed pacing. "Ted, anything you want, we can do that. You own me for the next three hours."
Ted sat abruptly in a chair, facing me. "I just needed to get you alone so I could tell you something. It might be important."
I was completely at sea now. "You just paid all that money because you wanted to... tell me something? Ted... I'm really grateful for whatever it is, but you could have just written to me here, anytime you wanted. For free."
Ted waved away my concern. "Don't worry about the money. It's nothing. And it's about something I didn't know until a few minutes ago. I mean, I knew it, but I just found out it related to you."
I moved close enough to take both of Ted's hands in my own. "Just tell me, okay?"
Ted looked up, his lips pressed together, his expression saying how-do-I-start-this. "I never knew your last name until tonight, when that boy said it just before your show started. Are you Andrew Cameron's brother?"
I let go of Ted's hands and sat bolt upright, my eyes wide. "What about Andrew?" I felt a surge of adrenaline. Did Andrew put Ted up to buying me at the auction? But... Ted was here. He hadn't handed me off to Andrew.
Ted sighed, seeming relieved. "I can tell I was right about him. And you." He paused, once again seeming to try to organize his thoughts.
I tried to get my breathing back to normal. Whatever this was about, there didn't seem to be any danger right at this moment. "How do you know him?"
"Well... this goes back to just after that first meeting here, at the Academy, with Larry. You and Maverick were there, of course, and it was you who gave me the name of that contractor for building the dungeon. I don't know, maybe that should have told me something.
"Anyway, I did contact the contractor, and while were were discussing the sale, the agent gave me the names of some previous customers in the area, and suggested I talk to some of them. He was pretty insistent that if I heard the kind of endorsements their 'satisfied customers' gave, I'd know I was working with the right company.
"So, I did talk with three of them. One of them was Andrew. I'm not sure if you... well, do you know about that dungeon he's got? He showed me around it."
I nodded, remembering, trying to push away the memory. "I've seen it."
Ted shuddered. "So you know all about what he was planning. Well, he showed me all its features, and told me it was for his brother. I'd been thinking he said the name Quinn, but tonight, when I heard your full name, it all came back to me, and I knew he'd said Wynn. And I knew his brother was — you were — a slave somewhere, but he didn't say where. That was the problem, he said. You were out of his reach, because he couldn't just buy you from your current owners, not for this purpose. It just all came together for me tonight: brother — Wynn Cameron — slave, whose owner wouldn't sell to him — Hanging Academy... I mean it's all so obvious now.
"He said he had a plan he was working on, and eventually he'd have his brother — you — down there to... play with. Wynn, I am so sorry I didn't put this together earlier. Last year, when I first met you, I hadn't met him yet, and then I had the whole Quinn/Wynn confusion. If I'd just asked myself later how you'd heard of that contractor, I might have put it together, but..."
I took Ted's hands again. "That's not important now. Whatever his plan is, he hasn't done anything about it yet, so you're still in time. The important thing now is, did he say anything about what his plan might be? Any details?"
Ted shook his head. "Nothing at all useful. But even with this little to go on... Wynn, something about him really creeped me out."
I choked back a laugh. "Tell me about it."
"I mean, this was really a serious thing to him. He struck me as a guy who gets what he wants, and would work hard for it if he had to. And as a guy who is very careful, and he'd wait until he had the foolproof plan worked out. I left thinking, that poor brother."
My mind was spinning. If Andrew did somehow find a way to snatch me... of course, he wouldn't do it personally. Someone would be hired to do it for him. But to keep me there afterward in that dungeon, which was the first place the police would look for me, that wouldn't make sense... But wait — did anyone even know it was there? Did Dad even actually know Andrew had that dungeon? I wasn't sure. What would prompt the police to consider that there might be such a place on Andrew's property? Especially if there were no fingers of evidence pointing to Andrew's guilt to start with?
As far as Andrew knows, I realized, his dungeon is still a safe place to put me.
And it's not! Andrew has no idea anyone at the Academy is onto his plan!
Does he? There is at least one person connected to the Academy who did know about the dungeon, and he was sitting right in front of me. "Ted, did you tell him you were buying a Hanging Boy for your dungeon?" If Andrew knew Ted would be discussing his own dungeon with the Academy, the very place where his brother was a student, a brother who might meet Ted and hear about Andrew's plan from him... If Andrew knew there was a connection between Ted and the Academy, he'd have to think his secret might be blown.
Ted shook his head. "Remember, I was trying to keep the whole Zeke scene down to people who really needed to know. And here was this Andrew Cameron fellow, young, good looking..."
Maybe to people who don't know him, I thought.
"...obviously with a lot of money. It didn't seem too unlikely he might even know Zeke personally. I had no idea what circles he moved in. So I kept mum about just what my own dungeon was for." Ted frowned as another thought struck him. "Oh, I meant to ask, is Preston Cameron your father? I was going to ask Andrew, but somehow I never got a chance."
I nodded. Ted must be thinking about where Andrew's money might have come from. "He's our dad, yes."
"I met him once, at a party. He seemed... I don't know, kind of cold." He suddenly looked horrified with himself. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I just wasn't thinking for a second, about you being his son."
He seemed about to apologize further, but I cut him off. "It's okay, really, I know how he is." Despite the seriousness of the situation, I nearly laughed; I suddenly remembered Father making an identical characterization of Ted.
So what now? I wondered. Do we tell Andrew we know about his planning? No. It's better if he doesn't know. If he takes me, it's obvious where I'll be, and I'll be found there quickly. But if he finds out we know as much as we do about his plans, he'll change them. It's safer not to tell him. The Dean may think otherwise, but I think he'll see it the same way.
Nothing had yet happened, on those occasions when I had left the grounds. Maybe the situation hadn't been right. Maybe the snatch was still in the planning stages. Maybe it had been abandoned altogether — though I thought that was the least likely possibility. Knowing Andrew.
For now, all I can do is tell it all to the Dean, and he can figure out how to be extra-careful in the future. I have to leave the campus sometime, at least for my own hanging if nothing else. But that's months down the road.
Maverick is hanging in five weeks, I reminded myself. I'm absolutely not leaving this building until after that. No point in taking chances. I don't have to worry about this now. I'll tell the Dean, and he can take care of safety measures.
I gripped Ted's hands more tightly. "Thank you, so much, for telling me this. It really means a lot to me, that you were thinking about me. And we're going to take this very seriously — trust me on that. I know Andrew a lot better than you do, and you were totally right to be... creeped out." I moved slightly closer to Ted, and smiled. "You not only own me for three hours, you've got me really grateful too."
I pulled gently on Ted's hands, and for the first time, felt Ted's sexual responses come on-line, as if Ted was suddenly conscious that he was alone with a boy with both the training and the obligation to satisfy his every sexual wish. I had no problem, now, reading that Ted wanted me to initiate the intimacies.
I reached up and softly stroked Ted's neck and cheek, then leaned forward to kiss him, a very soft touch of lips to lips. I could feel Ted's breath whisper past my ear, suddenly more rapid than a moment ago.
Ted lay on his back, his legs off the end of the bed, his feet on the floor, his clothes long since discarded. His breath was slowly returning to normal.
I was also naked, kneeling on the floor in front of Ted. I looked up from between Ted's thighs and licked the last few stray drops of Ted's semen from my lips. I smiled. I'm glad I knew that was coming. That and the scream. "Do you want me to wash off my facefur a bit, or not? If we kiss right now, you're going to taste yourself."
Ted laughed, and reached toward me. "That's okay. Just come up here with me."
I got up onto the bed and crawled forward until I was beside Ted, and wrapped my arms around him, snuggling up against him, my head on Ted's chest. I giggled. "I had an unfair advantage. I already knew some things you like."
Ted laughed again, relaxed now, and used a finger to play with my hair. "I won't tell anybody you cheated."
I looked up and kissed Ted's chin. "So tell me how L... Sorry, how Zeke is."
Ted's eyes lit up. "That's okay. For you, he's Larry. And he's just great. They really did a wonderful job with him. Thanks for telling me about that company." He giggled, a little self-consciously. "I have him in sort of a secret extra bedroom. The maid doesn't get to clean in there. When I get in the mood, once or twice a week, I go in there. He spends his time hanging by his neck — I had them reinforce that part of him, to make sure the strain is no problem. When I spend the night there, I either leave him up, so I can see him hanging up there when I wake up, or sometimes I take him down, and untie his hands, so he can sleep with me. I can close his eyes, and when I wake up with him in my arms, he looks so sweet and peaceful. I guess I like that because I feel like I really own Zeke." Ted blushed. "You don't think that's too weird, do you?"
I blinked in surprise at Ted's worry. "No! Not at all. I know Larry would love that so much. Believe me, I saw how much fun he had playing that role for you, because he knew it would do so much for you. And for him to be able to keep on playing it... Remember, I told him I was going to suggest it to you. He was really happy about it then, and I'm sure he is now."
"Good." Ted put his arms around me and hugged me.
I wriggled a little farther up the bed and kissed Ted, then slid my leg between Ted's. I let my hands roam up and down Ted's back. Going to go much slower this time, I thought to myself.
Tony had put on a very cute show for his hanging. He was a game show contestant, with blonde headfur of course, answering quiz questions from his roommate Rene as the "host" of the show. But the bat's answers were ludicrously airheaded. When Rene told him he'd lost, he pouted "You mean you're going to hang me?" That was his silliest response of all considering he'd been standing there the entire time with his hands and wings tied and a noose around his neck. Renee had pushed the lever, and Tony had done a creditable job for a First Year with just two months training, kicking for five minutes, doing some of the special moves all of the boys were working hard to learn. He hung motionless at last. And Renee signaled Bruno to take down Tony's body, cut his head off, and send him to the furrier, I was standing next to Maverick and still holding Ted's hand. I turned to look for Holden again. Holden had been the last of the hosts to return to the pavilion, and had stopped just inside the door as the presentation of Tony began. I thought Holden looked as excited as I'd ever seen him, bursting to tell me something, but not wanting to interrupt the show. As soon as it was over, I saw Holden rushing toward me, beaming, his shirt uneven, which meant he'd gotten dressed in a hurry.
Before I could even say Hi, Holden burst out, "You guys were so great!! I know I saw it all in practice, but watching you do it for real, in front of everybody..." He stopped, momentarily speechless, shaking his head, his mouth open. He giggled suddenly. "I was trying so hard not to start dribbling, right before, you know, going back to the bedroom, but I just... Oh Wynn, Maverick...", he looked back and forth between us, "Now I know how hard Hamish and me are going to have to work, to get anywhere near that good! Wynn, really, can we do it? I mean, anything like that?"
I looked at him seriously. "Holden, you can do it if you believe in yourselves as much as I believe in you."
Holden practically flung himself at me, gripping me tightly. "That means so much to me! We won't let you down, Wynn! Or you, Maverick." He shifted his hug to Maverick, who laughed, hugged him back, and kissed Holden's cheek as the ocelot let him go.
Suddenly Holden looked past my shoulder, and exclaimed, "Oh, he's leaving already! Bye, Benjamin! Thank you!" He waved and blew Benjamin a kiss, which he returned with a laugh as he went out the door.
I looked at Holden, eyes bright with delight. "You met Benjamin! That's really great!"
Holden turned back to me, nodding vigorously. "He was so much fun. And he didn't... well, you know him, I guess." Holden was speaking carefully, as there were still guests within earshot, including Ted. Holden laughed. "I told him about Hamish, and how much I miss him..." Holden, still grinning, suddenly wiped a tear away, "And he told me to close my eyes, and imagine Hamish was right there with me. And I did, and it seemed so real!" He put his hand over his mouth, blushing slightly but still laughing. "I came so hard."
I laughed too. "I'll tell you later, about the first time I met him. The shows Maverick and I do... that was all sort of his idea. In a way."
Holden goggled at me. "Really?? Yeah, I'll have to hear about that."
I grinned. "And I've got to hear more about the rest of your night."
Holden laughed again. "Oh, it's all been such a blast! This is all so cool..."