Two Days Later
I looked up at Hamish on the platform, and nodded. "Okay, you ready?"
Hamish nodded excitedly. "I think so. Holden and I talked about it awhile after you showed it yesterday." Automatically he reached out to touch his brother's hand. Holden and I had demonstrated the technique of assisting each other's breathing during a pair-hanging yesterday. Hamish had looked on in absorbed concentration, and asked a lot of questions. "And I think I can handle the weight. I did all those exercises, hanging with the extra weights, like the Dean talked about in that letter he sent." He blushed. "I'm sorry, I think of it as him sending it, but Holden tells me you wrote it."
I nodded and laughed suddenly. "I assume the Dean found a way to word it so it didn't imply you were admitted already."
Hamish laughed. "Well, as far as the wording, yeah. I didn't know how else to take it, though. I knew it had to be connected with Holden being here, and something he wanted me to get ready for. Especially the hanging with the extra weights. Holden never got anything telling him to do that while he was waiting."
I smiled. "I figured you wouldn't be fooled, but the Dean was just covering himself. He didn't want to get some sort of general early admission policy started."
Both boys were naked, of course. That gave me another way of telling them apart, besides the newly-arrived glittery monograms attached to their collars. Both had identical reddish-orange bellyfur, but Hamish's was denser. There hadn't been time for electrolysis of the extra hair yet. Aside from that, Hamish's exercise program over the past year had kept his body looking essentially identical to Holden's. I remained on the lookout for subtle differences in habitual gestures or expressions that would help me distinguish them. There was still a touch of the familiar-friend-and-occasional-lover look on Holden's face when he looked at me that was absent from Hamish's, but that difference would fade away soon.
Each dropped a noose over the other's head, adjusted it and tightened it, and waited for me to tie their hands behind them. They kissed each other — their faces were already only inches apart — but postponed any further intimacies to concentrate on the business at hand. It was obvious that Hamish took hanging as seriously as Holden, and Holden set a standard that was hard to match.
I nodded. "Okay, Hamish, I just want you to get a feeling for the breathing itself. Like I said yesterday, Holden and I have worked out some moves, part of a routine, in fact, but we were just showing you the basics to start with. We can work on some choreography in a few days, once you've got breathing mastered." I gestured downward. "Hamish, move both of your feet just a few inches left. You'll be able to put your right leg between Holden's with less fumbling from there. While the platform is sinking, think where your knees are in relation to his."
Hamish nodded briefly, and I pulled the lever, starting the platform downward.
As soon as he lost contact with the floor, Hamish quickly reached out with his feet, but banged them against both of Holden's ankles. He knocked his right knee against Holden's left, but then managed to push his right leg between Holden's thighs and lock both his thighs around Holden's right.
On Hamish's first push upward, I saw a familiar problem arise. I quickly pushed the lever, raising the platform.
As soon as Hamish could breathe, he voiced an exasperated growl and stomped his feet on the platform. He looked at Holden with a pleading expression. "I'm so sorry, I can't believe I..."
Holden covered Hamish's mouth with his own, stifling the apology, and quickly said, "I did the same thing, the exact same thing, the first time. You have to get the balance just right. Push straight upward, and try not to lean back."
"It's just that I never screw up a..."
I reached up and stroked Hamish's hip. "Shhh, it's okay. Hamish, I know you can hang. But this is different. As you practice you're going to work out a new set of reflexes you haven't needed before. It just takes time. You saw Holden do it yesterday. You'll get there."
Hamish took a deep breath. "Okay. Can we try again?"
"Sure." I spoke softly, going for a calming note. "Close your eyes and stand there a minute. I'm not in a hurry. Just breathe for a minute. Tell me when you're ready."
Hamish breathed in and out a dozen times, then nodded. "Let's go."
I pulled on the lever.
Hamish pushed his right leg between Holden's again, much more smoothly this time. He lifted himself, took a few slow breaths, then felt Holden's double thigh-squeeze. He relaxed his upper body, and tightened his thighs still further to allow Holden to lift himself.
On Hamish's third lift, he twisted his upper body slightly to rub his chest against Holden's. Holden duplicated the move on his own third lift.
I pushed the lever. As soon as he could stand, Hamish hopped excitedly in place. "Okay, okay, I've got it now! Can we do it again?"
I laughed. The boy was just way too much like Holden. "After you rest about ten minutes. Your body's more fatigued than you know, right now."
"Okay." He grinned at Holden. After a quick kiss, they leaned into each other, their chins each resting on the other's left shoulder, rubbing their heads softly together.
I shook my head slightly. I've never seen lovers more in tune with each other. They always make complementary moves, always know what the other is about to do and what the other wants. Not me and Maverick, not anybody.
I had a feeling they'd be like that, I reminded myself. But expectations aren't much of a preparation for seeing it happen.
I paused at the door of Marcus's and Zuchter's room. Runner had spent the night there with Zuchter, while Marcus slept with me. I listened before knocking — I didn't want to interrupt if they were making love. It seemed fairly quiet, so I tapped at the door, and heard Runner's "C'min."
Runner looked up from his reading and grinned at me. I looked at the book: Shep's Day With Dad. I recalled that it involved a young boy spending the day with his father at work so he could see what Dad did for a living. He was sitting up on the bed behind Zuchter, his knees pulled up with the book propped on them. A squeeze bottle of chocolate syrup was leaning against his left shin, and Puppy was nosing at it while looking up at him hopefully. Puppy was whimpering softly, clearly a request to Runner to do something with the bottle.
Runner had woken me up early this morning while I was still sleeping in Marcus's arms. He'd asked to take Puppy down to this room, and now I could see why.
Zuchter was on his knees and face on the bed, blindfolded and gagged as he preferred to be, his wrists tied to his ankles, his ass high in the air. He was sweaty from recent exertion, and his thighs and crotch seemed slightly darker than normal. I pressed my knuckles against my mouth to keep from laughing, but several snorts escaped. I knew what had been happening, partly because I knew how much Puppy loved chocolate.
Runner closed the book, using his thumb to mark his place, petted Puppy and said, "Oh, okay." Picking up the squeeze bottle, he held it over Zuchter's upraised rear end and dribbled chocolate sauce over the Lippizaner's privates, concentrating mainly on his cock, where the sauce ran slowly down over his balls and inner thighs.
With a grateful yip, Puppy rose onto his four legs on the bed and began licking up all available chocolate.
Zuchter gave a high-pitched squeal, and started squirming spastically, his muscles uselessly straining, the squeal quickly turning into rapid, breathy grunts. As Puppy finished with the more easily-reached sauce and began lapping earnestly at Zuchter's cock, the grunts became sharper and briefer, timed with the rhythmic tensing of the muscles of his arms and legs as he got more aroused.
Puppy was nearly finished when Zuchter's leg and buttock muscles tensed one more time and stayed taut, quivering. His grunts rose in pitch and then held a sustained note while he spurted semen onto the (already much stained) bed.
Zuchter slowly slid down the far end of his climax, and found Puppy's attention less welcome. He squirmed, trying to push Puppy away from his oversensitive parts, but Puppy continued licking undeterred. At last the final bit of sauce disappeared. Zuchter was left alone to catch his breath, giggling in spite of the torment, his whole body now bathed in sweat.
That was just another facet of the gem that was Runner, his quick understanding of Zuchter's offbeat wants and needs. I shook my head, grinning. "Runner, could you take his gag out just for a minute? I need to ask him something."
Runner put his book down and laughed. "I think he's had enough anyway. That's his third time." Runner reached forward and began untying Zuchter.
As soon as he was free to move, Zuchter pulled out the gag and slipped off the blindfold. He immediately turned to Runner and threw his arms around him. "Thank you so much, Runner, that was great!" He gave Runner an affectionate kiss, then looked up at me. "What's up?"
"You're on monitor duty for the party Saturday, right?" The Second Years were hosting the upcoming party.
Zuchter nodded. "Marcus and I both did bedrooms last time."
"I was going to ask the Dean if it'd be okay for you to be assigned to monitor my room. I just wanted to check with you first."
"Oh! Sure. Have you got any extra signals?" There were standard hand signals the hosts used to alert their monitors to special needs. Occasionally host/monitor pairs worked out some additional ones.
I shook my head. "Just the usual. I'm not expecting anything weird. If anything I'm sure they'll be on their best behavior."
Justin Greene and his crew, the men who had rescued me from the island, were going to collect, at last, the remainder of the reward I had promised them.
Runner gasped. "Is that this Saturday? That's..." He frowned in thought, pulling out of memory what he had learned about the days of the week. "Is that three more days?"
I smiled and nodded. "Today is Wednesday."
"The sailors from the boat are coming to this one?"
I nodded again. "I need to get that done. There aren't too many more parties before I do my own show."
Runner gasped again. "Do you know when your show is? I thought you were going to find out later today."
"Oh, no, not yet. Not exactly, anyway. But I know it's going to be soon."
"Can I come to the party?"
I frowned. "Well, there's a place where you can watch from outside the room..."
Runner shook his head vehemently. "I want to be in the party. Wynn, I've never had sex with a femme before. Isn't that something I need to learn, if I'm going to be a Hanging Boy?"
I bit my lip. "Well, remember, you aren't really a student yet. That's still going to be awhile." I thought a little longer. "And most of the customers are male, so you might not get any female experience anyway."
Runner had a determined look on his face. "You said you were with femmes before you came here." He looked at Zuchter. "Zuchter, you did it too, right? Before you were in the Academy?" Zuchter nodded, and Runner looked back at me. "You said I need to learn as much as I can about what all boys do, because Hanging Boys know so many things before they come here. Isn't this one of those things? I've watched males have sex with femmes on TV, so I know what to do. But watching it isn't the same. I need to do it."
I made a mental note to suggest that the dean hire some professional escorts to teach Runner about M/F sex.
I was about to dispute how much Runner really knew about sex with the other gender just from watching television, but realized that wouldn't be at all helpful toward putting Runner off. The more Runner saw that he didn't know about a subject, the stronger his need to learn it became.
It would be futile trying to satisfy Runner's hunger for knowledge with anything other than real food. I couldn't promise anything for sure, but I said cautiously, "I'll ask the Dean if it's okay..."
Runner bounced off the bed with a huge grin, enveloping me in his usual tight hug. "Thank you, Wynn!"
Zuchter cleared his throat. "We can't really just turn him loose in a bedroom, right? He needs to know some things first."
I smiled at him. "You offering to help?"
Zuchter laughed. "Sure. It's the least I owe him after this..." He gestured vaguely at the chocolate bottle.
I grinned. "Okay. Start making a list of what we need to do."
Zuchter looked at the chocolate-stained bedsheet. "First thing is clean up a little."
That Afternoon
Sitting at the conference room table, I felt the excitement billowing inside me. I'd been to several of these meetings, more of them than most boys who come though here. Starting with the one for Leo. But this is the first time it's been for me.
I'd thought about asking Marcus and Zuchter to accompany me, but had decided against it. We'll probably have another meeting for contract signing, and they can come to that. The main reason I'd left them behind was that inviting them would have made it impossible to tell Runner that he couldn't come. And I needed Runner to be absent today.
After all this time, I really wanted to meet the Club member who had bought an option on my services. It would be someone I'd met, but I didn't yet know who, just that he was male. Someone who had decided far in advance that I was the Hanging Boy he wanted to buy, and had paid money to ensure that he would have that opportunity.
I saw the Dean look at his watch. "What time, Sir?"
"He should be here in the next ten minutes." The Dean always insisted that Hanging Boys be in the conference room, waiting, when a prospective client arrived. It assured the client that the boy was there to serve his or her needs.
I decided that meant we had time to get another issue out of the way. May as well do it now, I thought. This was one of the things I didn't want Runner present for. "Sir, could Runner participate in the party Saturday?"
The Dean looked startled. "I think for the present it's sufficient that he watch from outside the room."
"Sir, it really would fit in with what you want us to do with him. Aside from hanging, our most important duty is serving the Club members at parties. Runner himself pointed out that all of us knew something about inter-gender sex when we started here, and that helps all of us share a starting point. He'd be handicapped if he started as a student with zero experience with femmes."
The Dean rested his chin on his hand, his standard thinking-posture. "It's going to be a couple of years, I think, at least, before he reaches the point of being ready for admission. There's plenty of time."
"Yes, Sir, but two things. One is that I won't be participating in any more parties myself, after this one. I know the job of teaching Runner doesn't fall exclusively on me, but I think it's my duty to do as much as I can before I go. The second thing is, this party is special. The crew from the boat who rescued us are going to be there. They're here because I made a promise to them, and because I owe them so much for bringing me back here. But I'm not the only one they rescued from years of an empty, exhausting, painful life. They rescued Runner from that too, and he owes them the same way I do. He doesn't need to try to entertain members. I know he's not ready for that. But we can get him ready to give a guest a freebie. The guests will enjoy it, and he'll learn more from that than from anything we could tell him ourselves. He has to get some hands-on experience..." I grinned. "...so to speak. I'll take care of Captain Greene, and Runner can play host to Rochelle Pellis. This is the only way he can get that experience before he's admitted, without sticking a member with an inexperienced boy — and probably the only time the opportunity will come up."
The Dean was looking down at the doodle he was doing on a notepad. "So the understanding is that he'll service only the woman from the ship crew?"
"Yes, Sir."
"What happens if she doesn't want him?"
I laughed. "Are you kidding, Sir? You've seen him. And wait till you see him in a party outfit."
The Dean smiled, still doodling, and sighed. "You win again. How many is that?"
I laughed again, just as the door opened and Tina said, "Your two o'clock is here."
"Thank you, Tina. Show him in."
I stood respectfully, trying to keep a lid on my excitement as another this-is-it moment arrived. I gasped, my jaw dropping. "Benjamin!! It's you??"
Benjamin stopped in the doorway, blinked at the intensity of his reception, then smiled. "So you'd be willing to let me stage your hanging?"
"Absolutely! When do..." I worked to get a grip on myself. "I'm sorry. You should come in and have a seat." I gestured toward a chair at the table opposite me. Then I remembered that I was a slave, and winced. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be the one who says..." I covered my face, blushing furiously. "I'll shut up now." I sat abruptly. Benjamin sat down across from me.
It sounded like the Dean was laughing. I peeked through my fingers, yes, the Dean was rocking in his chair, his right fist pounding on the chair arm. Cautiously I uncovered my face.
The Dean was still chuckling. "I can't recall seeing quite that reaction before. Should I assume you're willing to consider being owned and hanged by Mr. Smith?"
"Consider? Of course I'd..." I shook myself, trying to get into a more appropriate businesslike attitude. "I guess we need to find out more details, right?" I was a little startled to learn Benjamin's last name after all this time. The subject had never come up before.
Benjamin smiled. "What would you like to know?"
I remembered, at last, the question that had been my top priority coming in. "How many boys can I bring with me?" It was always required that at least one other Academy boy accompany the one being hanged, to set the noose in place, but I was hoping for more than that. "In recent years we've been sending, ummm... two or three."
Benjamin nodded. "Three would be fine. There's enough room in the guest house, if they don't mind sleeping in the same bed."
Guest house, I thought. Cool. "Is that... do you mean three counting or not counting me?"
"Three in addition to yourself. More than that would get a little crowded."
Perfect! I thought. I turned to the Dean, my heart fluttering slightly. This would be the hard part, but I was prepared to argue for it until I got my way. "Sir, I'd like to take Marcus, Zuchter, and Runner." There was no point in asking if Holden or Hamish could be there. Back when he'd sent my letter to Hamish, the Dean had made it clear that he considered Holden to be subject to the rule forbidding any outside contact by First Years. Now that Hamish was here, that would apply to him as well. He had not, to date, said anything about Runner. I was prepared to argue that Runner needed outside experience in the mainland world, to become an Academy student and a Hanging Boy.
From the beginning, I'd dreamed of a hanging exactly like Marshall's. My vision of my hanging included a road trip to the beautiful estate of whomever bought me. But if the Dean refused to let Runner outside, I was prepared to give up that part of my dream and ask for my hanging to be staged on the grounds of the Academy. I didn't want one like Maverick's — I wanted to preserve the uniqueness of Maverick's very special send-off. But if necessary, I would wait for a buyer willing to have the hanging here. I'd made a promise to Runner, and keeping that promise took priority.
The Dean frowned at me. "You want to take Runner?"
"He's not a First Year, Sir."
"Well, of course he's not a student at all, but you know..." He trailed off, looking at me silently for a moment. Then he heaved a heavy sigh and sat back. "Let's assume I've finished saying why I don't want Runner leaving the grounds, and you've finished explaining why I really do. I think I know what you're going to say. We'll assume you've convinced me as usual. Let's move on." He made a resume-your-conversation gesture toward Benjamin and me.
I could barely think, now, for all the Yes! Yes! Yes! clamor inside my head. I turned to Benjamin with a huge grin. "Ummm... where were we? Oh!! I know! What kind of show do you want me to put on? You know about our various standard scripts, right? Do you want one of those, or will you have one of your own?"
"Ah. Well, I'm leaving that part to my son, Calvin. I'm staging your hanging for him, actually. At present I don't believe the plan really calls for much rehearsal in advance, or anything of that nature. If that changes, I'll let you know."
The parallel with my father buying Marshall for Andrew didn't escape me, but I could tell instantly that Benjamin's son was nothing like Andrew. Benjamin himself was such a sweet person, and when he mentioned his son he radiated nothing but pride... wait a minute. His son?
My brow wrinkled. I could always recall every moment of that first meeting with Benjamin three years earlier, including how he had adapted to his own sexual disability. "Benjamin, how could you have..." I stopped myself, just that much too late, and facepalmed. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me today."
Benjamin laughed. "Wynn, you know better than to worry about offending me on that score. True, I'm not at present physically capable of fathering children. But that wasn't always the case. Calvin recently graduated from college, and I wanted to give him a graduation present. You are the nicest one I could think of."
I laughed; I just couldn't be uncomfortable with Benjamin. "I think that is about the sweetest thing anybody's ever said to me." I decided to change the subject, and turned to the Dean. "Sir, did you know the whole concept of Maverick and me doing a pairs hanging for the members was originally Benjamin's idea?"
The Dean's eyes widened. "No, I did not." He looked at Benjamin. "I can't even begin to tell you how much I appreciate that."
Benjamin waved his hands self-deprecatingly. "I can't really take credit. As I recall, I merely asked Wynn to engage in a fantasy. Turning it into reality was all his doing. With Maverick."
The Dean smiled. "Well, in any case, thank you for setting that idea in motion. Now, when would you want to stage the hanging?"
Benjamin scratched his chin. "I can be fluid on that, but I should think I'll need about a month to get together a guest list, send out invitations, that sort of thing." He turned to me. "Does that give you enough time to finish whatever you need to do beforehand?"
I nodded. "Should we say four weeks from this Saturday? Hangings are most often on Saturdays, that's all I'm thinking. I'm hoping we can set a date now, so I can tell Runner."
Benjamin looked at me curiously. "Who's Runner? Oh, you were talking about bringing him along. That's an interesting name."
I grinned. "He's an interesting boy."
Benjamin smiled back. "Well, four weeks from Saturday it is."
Benjamin and the Dean discussed payment and contracts, but I barely heard them. I felt a fire begin burning inside me — one that I knew would not be extinguished until I myself was. I've got a date for my hanging!! The words ran in a loop inside my head, over and over. I wanted to jump up and down and cheer, turn cartwheels, do something silly. But I contained myself and sat there while the two of them finalized my sale.
On my way to Marcus's and Zuchter's room, I saw that the door to Holden's and Hamish's room was standing open. I was bursting to tell the news to someone. I would have passed by the brothers' room if a closed door had signaled their need for privacy, but the open door meant it was OK.
I stopped in the doorway, my mouth open to speak, but stayed silent instead to watch.
One of the First Year boys, Rhys, was hanging, his naked body squirming at the end of the rope. We were near the end of the year, so the First Years had been introduced to all of the standard moves and were becoming fairly proficient. A discerning eye would see the lack of polish in comparison with the more advanced students, though. And of course, they couldn't hang nearly as long.
Holden was watching Rhys intently, his chin resting on the palm of one hand. His eyes were intensely focused and barely blinking. I had seen that look in Holden's eyes before, but nevertheless I was stunned again by the resemblance to Maverick. Maverick was the only other person who had been capable of that depth of concentration on another boy's hanging. Hamish, standing beside his brother, was similarly absorbed, though his eyes seemed to move more, taking in different parts of the performance that Holden seemed to be seeing all at once.
Without looking, Holden reached for the lever to bring the platform back up. As soon as Rhys could stand, he asked Holden, just slightly out of breath, "So did you see anything?"
Frowning, his eyes now unfocussed as if he were replaying a video of the hanging in his head, Holden said quietly, "Well, I think you hold your elbows a little too far behind you, but that's just your own style. You've always done that, and I don't think it's really messing you up. But there's kind of an overall extra tension in you that I didn't used to see. When did that start?"
Rhys shook his head. "I didn't even know I had it. If it's there, it's not something conscious."
"So when did your hanging times start going down?"
"I guess... about a month ago."
Holden's frown deepened. "About when the classes on the Shaw Move started?"
I smiled. That was what the name the students had given to the desperate-looking downward stretching. Hanging Boys had always done it to some extent, but Shaw had turned into an art form — just as they called the hip-thrusting leg wraps the "Maverick Move." It was one of the ways Shaw and Maverick would live forever at the Academy.
Rhys nodded slowly. "I guess so. I thought I was doing it right. Monroe said I looked really good doing it." Monroe was a Third Year, one of the teachers for beginning hanging classes.
Holden said, "Oh, you are. You do. Except... I'm wondering if you're getting too much into the mind-set of the move. When we do the Shaw Move, we're pretending we're in a panic, struggling to reach something to stand on. I'm thinking... it's like you really believe that's what's happening. The tension I'm seeing has a taste of panic in it. Do you..."
Rhys suddenly nodded excitedly. "Yes! I've always... Well, I've always kind of fantasized about hanging, even before I started doing it. I've been talking to the other boys, and they do it too, but it seems like mine are more vivid, I guess. They're more focused on the excitement of it, I think, and I kind of get deeper into the story going on in my head. When we started learning the Shaw, I started getting that really desperate feeling washing over me." He suddenly looked worried. "Holden, the fantasy, the story, that's part of what makes this work for me. I have to have the fantasies. If I stop doing it..."
Holden waved his hand to stop Rhys. "No, I know. You've always been one of the most convincing boys in the First Year, and the fantasies you have must be the reason. But now they're getting in the way of something you need to do. Let me think a minute."
While Holden's wheels were turning, Hamish suddenly spoke up. "You can't drop the fantasy, but maybe you could just tweak it a little?"
Rhys gave Hamish a blank look, and asked, "What do you mean?" But Holden suddenly spun toward his brother. "Yeah!" He looked up at Rhys again. "Look, what if, while you're hanging, about to go into the Shaw, you see your lover riding in on horseback, in the distance..."
Hamish continued Holden's thought from mid-sentence, "Coming to save you. Just a few minutes away. You'll be rescued, if you can just hold out a tiny bit longer..."
Holden resumed, "You need to reach the platform so you can breathe, you can survive, until your lover gets there..."
Hamish continued again. "So that's the desperation, but it's hopeful, it's excited, you're going to be okay if you can just make it through. You wouldn't have that panic tension making everything stiff..."
Holden again. "Then when you go on to a different move, go back to whatever fantasies go with that. But always come back to the rescue image when you're doing Shaw."
Rhys's eyes were wide with excitement, and he bounced in tiny hops on the platform. "Yes!! I can see the whole thing now! Let me try it."
Holden grinned at him. "Okay, but take a few minutes, okay? You were just up there. I want you to calm down and get your breath back first."
I backed into the hallway, shaking my head. There it was again. For as long as I'd known Holden, I'd been aware that Holden and Hamish were so close as to be a single person in two bodies. I'd known it from what Holden had told me. But now I was getting to see it — in their physical intimacy, and now in their interaction with another person. I needed to let my mind boggle for awhile before trying to cope with more of it.
And the task the Dean had set for Maverick and me before our hangings, was done. The leadership qualities the Dean had seen in Maverick and me — especially the technical help that nobody but Maverick could give — had now been transferred to these four boys. I had already witnessed students, even a couple of Third Years, seeking out Marcus for his stylistic advice. And just now I'd seen Holden's ability as a troubleshooter, a talent Maverick had helped Holden strengthen during the first months he'd been here. I could see another way Maverick was living on, in Holden.
Hamish did not yet have the purely technical expertise that Holden did, to the point that errors in hanging form would jump out at him and identify themselves as he watched. But Hamish had the same insight as his brother into the frame of mind a Hanging Boy needed, to perform at his best.
Still shaking my head, I knocked on Marcus's and Zuchter's door. Zuchter invited me in.
I opened the door, took one step forward, and gasped as a wave of desire, a pure sexual need, swept through me. Set off by Runner.
Runner was wearing a sky-blue self-stripe vest over a pair of dark-blue slacks. The vest covered his nipples and navel, but it had a deep V that called attention to his impressively furred chest. The slacks were made of silk, and cut tight enough that you could see he "dressed left." He wore a very dark gray jacket over this, but it was pulled open so that it didn't cover much of anything. He walked toward the door, balanced on the balls of his feet like a martial artist. Marcus was directly in front of him, and I could read the question on Runner's face, "Am I doing it right?"
This was a different Runner than I was used to seeing. I could almost look at him as a stranger, and I worked to preserve that impression, letting the full effect wash over me. The impact was stunning. If what I was seeing now were a scene in a movie, the film would be remembered for decades afterward for this one scene of a beautiful male walking slowly toward the camera without speaking. Fans would argue about whether special effects had been used to augment his sensuality.
Runner stopped just in front of Marcus, and noticed that I was there. A sudden smile lit his face. "Wynn! I get to come to your hanging, don't I?"
I smiled back. "I told you that already."
"I know, but you weren't really sure when you said it. You are now."
I felt dizzy. Runner was reading me as if he had a direct connection to my brainwaves. I had seen him do the same with Hamish, when they first met. I had been in Hanging Boy training for three years, and I might be able to read faces and body language as effectively as Runner was doing it now, but Runner shouldn't be doing it at all. I wasn't sure when he'd started. I couldn't recall Runner doing it on the island, but I might have missed it. Maybe it was Runner getting to know so many people, so many faces on television and the movies he'd been watching. Reading people, I reflected, was very much a matter of focusing your senses on them and paying close attention. Runner certainly did that. But it was also a cultural thing, a result of shared knowledge and beliefs. Runner was learning more about the culture of my world every day. Maybe that was the key.
I forced myself back to present time, to hear Runner say, "I don't understand why people wear these." He was looking down at the elevator shoes he was wearing. "Why do they want to make it harder to walk?"
I smiled. "You're really doing it for other people, instead of yourself. It changes the shape of your legs, and makes you look taller. And when people look at you they get really... well, horny." Runner knew that word very well by now. "That's why we wear them at parties. We're supposed to be making people horny."
"When I get them in bed, can I take the shoes off?"
I grinned. "Oh, sure. By the time you get the person in bed, you can take everything off. Or a little before that, probably." I looked at Marcus. "Did you show him any videos of boys with guests in the bedroom?"
Marcus shook his head. "Was planning to do that later. Zuchter thought we should work on his entrance first. What do you think so far?"
"You showed him that walk?" Marcus nodded. "He's really picked that up well. Just a little wobbly with the lifts, but we've got a couple more days. The outfit..." I frowned at Runner's vest. "The style is perfect, but I think the color is more for Holden or Hamish. Have they got the exact same thing in black? Not coal black. A brownish black, I think. I want something that really brings out his fur color."
Zuchter answered. "They have it in a bunch of colors. We were going to try several different styles until one of them really popped."
I laughed. "This one pops just fine. I want to stay with it, but in the black."
Zuchter looked at the clock on his desk and gasped. "Oh, Marcus, we need to get going."
Marcus said, "Oh! Right." He turned back to me. "We need to get to class. Sorry, Wynn."
"No, of course, you go." I made a get-moving gesture, then said, "Wait. Have you had a chance to teach him about sex with a female yet?"
Zuchter had gathered up two books and a notebook, and Marcus scrambled to do the same. He shook his head. "Another thing for later."
"I'll do that then," I replied. "Doll?"
"Closet. It's clean. Clothes too. Lube in the second drawer of my dresser. See you, Wynn." He blew me a kiss on his way out.
To Marcus, following close behind Zuchter, I asked, "Where's Puppy?"
Marcus, backing out the door, said, "Jerry and Tate. I think they're going to keep him for the night. And yes, they've got a litter box in their bathroom for him." I insisted that anyone overnighting with Puppy take care of his physical needs. Marcus gave me a quick hug and ran out into the hall, closing the door.
I opened the door of Zuchter's closet and got out the sex doll. We'd always had a few so the students could practice sex with femmes, but this was one of the new, luxury models we'd bought out of Ted's gift. It was made by Full Body Associates, the skin cloned from an actual seal-girl. I laid it out on Zuchter's bed, and switched it on; the internal heater would bring it up to body temperature in a few minutes, and the sensors and muscle-simulators in all three orifices were live. Ooh! And it had a microphone attachment that would make my voice — coming from the doll's mouth — sound like a femme's. Cool!
The clothing was the sort of thing a middle class femme might wear to an evening party. Lacy black panties and padded bra, tight-fitting camisole, low-cut dress, nylons, high heeled shoes, scarf. They were in Zuchter's size, of course, but he was only an an inch shorter; I could wear them. I took the clothes into the bathroom and changed into them.
"I'll roleplay Rochelle," I told Runner when I came out. "Whatever I say about me, I'm saying it about the femme you're with. Okay?" Runner nodded. I went on, speaking more softly, "Now... you're going to hear a female voice coming from the doll..." I picked up the mic, "... like this. And whatever that voice says to do to 'me', you do to the doll."
I waited for Runner to nod. "Once you're in the bedroom with me, stay close to me. Ask me about myself — with Rochelle, you can ask what she's been doing since we saw them."
"Keep your eyes on mine. While we're talking, you could stroke my hip..." I waited as Runner reached out to touch the doll.
I put down the mic and spoke in my own voice. "We're going to undress each other. You can look away sometimes to see what you're doing, but remember to look back in my eyes. You should always look like you want to be with me more than anything."
"I do, Wynn." He was speaking softly, in imitation of the sensual tone I was using.
"No, not Wynn. Rochelle. Right now, I'm Rochelle. You want to be with Rochelle." Runner nodded. "Keep your lips just a little apart when you're not talking." Runner nodded again, his mouth slightly open. "Take off your jacket and fold it so it won't wrinkle. Lay it on the desk or a chair. That's right, keep looking at her as much as you can."
Runner took off his jacket, folded it, and put it on a chair. He only glanced away from the doll twice: once to make sure the jacket was neatly folded, once to locate the chair.
I took hold of Runner's vest and unbuttoned it. "Lift your arms up, so I can take this off you. Then unbutton my dress."
Runner fumbled a little with the unfamiliar clothing, but soon had it off me. I undid his shirt and slacks, pulled his undershirt over his head, and pulled down his BVDs.
I looked up at Runner's face. "Okay, I'm me for a minute, not Rochelle. Femmes like sex a lot of different ways, like you and I do, and mostly they involve different ways of stimulating this." I stroked the doll's genital area. "I'll show you one of the ways now, and some more later. And we, all the Hanging Boys, have learned how to tell which way a femme wants it without asking. We almost always get it right. In the next couple of days I'll try teaching you to do that, to know what she wants." I had a feeling that part would go easily.
Runner nodded eagerly. Another thing to learn!
"The foreplay — the stuff you do to get both of you ready — is a lot like what we do, with a couple of exceptions."
I picked up the mic and let my feminized voice come from the doll's mouth. "First, my breasts. They are sensitive. Not as sensitive as the nipples, but they can give me pleasure. Start by touching them."
Runner reached out and lightly caressed the doll's breasts.
"Stronger. More like the way you'd caress Wynn's chest." He rubbed his hands over the doll's breasts above the nipples. "Now put your hands under my breasts and hold them up. Gently at first... that's right." I made encouraging noises while he cupped the doll's breasts for a couple of minutes. "Now squeeze them, just a little. A little firmer than that. Ah... yes... like that. Another minute or so, then you can play with my nipples. Now, kiss me and play with my body just like you would with Zuchter's or Wynn's, except for the area between my legs."
I let him kiss and caress the doll for a while. Runner had already understood about pleasing his partner, and had learned more very quickly from all his new-found friends.
I put down the mic. "Stop for just a minute, then we'll get to her genital area." I took some of the lube and spread it liberally inside the doll's vagina.
"Now, lick your fingers to make them wet, and gently touch the outer lips — those folds of skin around her genitals..." I coached Runner through the process of getting a female ready for sex, including using a finger to check for lubrication and rub the G-spot.
"We're going to do male-on-top. Keep looking at my eyes, remember. Lips open." Runner had momentarily forgotten the latter. "Sit down on the bed..." I watched as Runner did so. "Caress me for a few minutes more." I waited while he played with the doll's breasts, thighs, and genital area. Then I spread the doll's legs wide. "Kneel between my thighs." I spoke softer. "Find the opening and position your penis there. Push forward slowly."
Runner made an "aaaah" sound as his cock slid into the doll's slippery hole. "That's right, that's a good sound, make that a lot."
I'd been concerned that Runner might be turned off by sex with a female, either because he was so used to other males, or because the doll wasn't a real anthro. I needn't have worried... he was plenty turned on.
"Start moving in and out of me, but slowly. Most females take longer to reach orgasm than males do. Kiss me occasionally, on the lips or the nipples whichever strikes you as better. Make it last. Listen to the sounds I make, they'll tell you when to speed up."
Runner smiled. "I'm glad femmes like to kiss too. I knew that from TV."
I grinned and whispered, "Everybody likes that." I gave little more in the way of instruction for awhile. Runner didn't need it, as the fire and excitement took over. I made appropriate noises into the mic, and eventually Runner sped up, pounding the doll hard, and eventually came inside her as I made appropriate squealing noises into the mic.
After Runner had rested, I showed him how to clean the doll for the next use. "Tomorrow morning I'll teach you how to do oral sex on a female."