The Next Morning
I sat at one of the computer hutches in the library, resting my cheek on my left hand, as the video on the campus intranet began playing.
For the first few seconds, the screen showed an empty private room in the Party Pavilion. Then Runner appeared in the doorway, holding Jimmy Pellis by the hand.
I bit my lip anxiously. I wished I'd been able to tell Runner what I read in Rochelle's and Jimmy's faces while we were still in the main room, but the opportunity had never come up. On the screen, I could see, even more clearly than before, what Jimmy would want from Runner, and suspected it was not behavior that would come naturally to the steenbok.
I watched Jimmy now, as Runner turned to face him. Jimmy's eyes ran up and down Runner's body, his mouth open, his eyes wide. I knew what I was looking for, and helplessly wished I could tell Runner, the image of Runner on the screen from fifteen hours ago...
"Take off your clothes, Jimmy." Runner's voice coming from the screen startled me, coming so close to what my own voice was saying automatically inside my head.
The otter scrambled to comply, ripping off his tie and thrusting it into his coat pocket (there, thought so), peeling off his coat and the rest of his clothes and dropping them on the floor. Runner stood with his arms folded in front of him, a small smile on his face. I was slammed by an intense deja vu feeling, and struggled to identify the source of it. Runner had never been alone with a guest before, so I was completely mystified by this feeling.
Moments later, Jimmy stood before Runner naked, with a huge fleshy rod projecting slightly upward in front of his crotch. He looked pale, swaying as if he might faint. Runner's smile grew. He turned around leaning forward from the waist slightly to emphasize his butt. He put a hand on his right buttock and asked. "Do you want these, Jimmy?"
That's it!! I thought. That movie!! The one Runner, Zuchter and I watched a couple of weeks ago. Runner is acting out a scene from the movie!
I watched as Jimmy nodded rapidly, whimpering softly. I mouthed Runner's next line. "What are you going to do for me first, Jimmy?" The steenbok's voice wrapped itself sensuously around Jimmy's name.
Now I knew where Runner's behavior came from. But a new thought left me even more amazed. Yes, right, Runner is copying what he's seen on TV. But it's exactly the right thing! This was the need I had read in Jimmy, the interaction he wanted with perhaps the hottest fur he had ever been alone with. Whether something about Jimmy had reminded Runner of the movie, or whether he had read the otter's desires and searched his memory for something that fit, either way he had reacted to Jimmy perfectly. Very few First Year students would. And he'd had far less instruction than a First Year would have had by the time of his first party.
Jimmy stammered, "I - I don't know." He didn't seem to have seen the same movie. I wondered whether that was good or bad. At least it would make the scene seem more spontaneous to him. And probably no less memorable.
Runner, still with that smile, snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor. Jimmy looked at the floor and, uncertainly, dropped to his knees in front of the steenbok, which turned out to be the right thing.
I knew what was coming next, and smiled. Jimmy stared up at Runner, nearly drooling, and Runner started to sway his hips sensuously directly in front of Jimmy's face, his fingers playing with the waistband of his boxers. "These are so uncomfortable," he purred. "Would you take them off for me? — No, not with your hands," Runner went on, stopping Jimmy as he began to reach up. "You want to touch me with your hands, don't you? If you make me happy first, you can touch me." I guess Runner didn't recall some of the unfamiliar words in the script of the movie ("You have to earn it"), but had understood the essential idea from following the action.
Jimmy, breathing raggedly, looked at Runner helplessly. "But how...?" He pantomimed pulling down Runner's boxers, as if to say, I need my hands.
Jimmy was being considerably more dense than the actor in the movie, but Runner didn't miss a beat. He bared his teeth and clicked his upper and lower teeth together, a pantomime of his own apparently inspired by Jimmy's.
Jimmy gasped as he caught on. Nervously — visibly shaking — he leaned closer to Runner's hip, pressed his face against it and closed his teeth around the waistband. He could only manage to pull it down a few inches. Then he knee-walked to Runner's other side and, again with his teeth, pulled down the waistband from there. At last he worked it down far enough that the boxers fell to the floor. Runner casually kicked them away with one foot.
Runner undid his vest then, folded it carefully, and laid it on a chair. He unbuttoned his shirt and slowly pulled it off. His sleek, antelope body slowly gyrated in an almost hypnotic dance. Runner threw the shirt beyond Jimmy, his arms still upraised, continuing the dance.
Jimmy watched him swaying naked just inches away, and could barely breathe.
Runner lowered his arms now, still swaying, and ran his hands down his torso to his hips, then his buttocks, with his eyes closed. "I feel so grimy, Jimmy." I recalled Runner having to ask what "grimy" meant. As closely as Runner was following the script, he kept remembering to replace the movie character's name with "Jimmy." It was a marvel to see.
Runner looked directly into Jimmy's eyes now. "I want you to lick me clean, all over. Then you can touch me." He pointed to his feet to indicate a starting place.
Perhaps it was the camera angle, but Jimmy's erection looked still larger than it had been at first. That's probably getting pretty uncomfortable, I thought. But I was sure Jimmy didn't care. He followed orders, licking the top of Runner's left foot, and running his tongue gradually up Runner's leg, moaning with his arousal. If this lasted very long, he would have an astonishing case of blue balls.
Runner made Jimmy detour around his crotch ("That's for later"), but did allow him to kiss his nipples. Jimmy rose to his feet, and moaned more loudly, Runner caressing the back of his head, holding him close. Jimmy raised his hands to feel Runner's chest fur while he sucked, but Runner pushed them gently away with the backs of his own.
Reluctantly, it seemed, he continued upward. As he got to face level, Runner took hold of his head, tilted his face up, and kissed him, hard and deep.
It looked as though Jimmy nearly fainted at that point.
Runner broke off the kiss. Locking eyes with Jimmy, he pointed downward. "Now finish the job."
Jimmy dropped back onto his knees, licking Runner's cock eagerly, moaning continually. Runner grasped his head more firmly than before, pushing deep into his mouth. Jimmy had to pause frequently to catch his breath. Once again Runner pushed Jimmy's hands away as he touched the steenbok's thighs. At last Runner stiffened, quivering, threw his head back, and came down the sailor's throat. I was familiar with Runner's orgasms; he wasn't faking.
After Runner got his breath back, he murmured, "You've been a good boy, Jimmy." Runner pulled Jimmy up to his feet again, turned him as he walked around him and gently pushed him back toward the bed. "Lie down." Jimmy lay on his back, his erection pointing straight up, hard and long enough to make a more than adequate tentpole. Runner spread some lube on his tailhole and knelt on the bed, straddling Jimmy. He positioned his ass directly above the pole. Then he lowered himself onto the Jimmy's erection and took him inside..
Runner started moving, sliding up and down Jimmy's maleness. In a hoarse whisper, he said, "Hands, Jimmy, use your hands now. Use everything."
Jimmy reached out, seeming to want to touch everything at once, stroking Runner's thighs, his hips, and especially Runner's buttocks. Jimmy moaned in pleasure as he caressed them, kneaded them, ran his hands all around them. He gasped each time Runner hit bottom on his maleness, moaning in between. Runner bent forward, his mouth and tongue finding Jimmy's. He gathered Jimmy's upper body in his arms and pulled them together, chest rubbing against chest.
I was staring at the screen, my mouth open, breathing hard, rubbed the crotch of my shorts. I saw Jimmy spasm, his sudden cry muffled by Runner's mouth against his, as he erupted into Runner. Runner spurted at almost the same moment, enjoying "both pleasures." They both held each other tightly, then both slowly relaxed as the orgasm waned.
Afterwards Runner raised himself slightly, gave Jimmy one more light kiss, and crept forward along his body so he could rest atop him with Jimmy's face against his chest. They both lay quietly, Jimmy with his hands cupping Runner's buttocks, until a pinging tone signalled that their time was nearly up. Raising up to give Jimmy one more kiss, he began getting dressed. Jimmy, as if in a deep trance, did the same.
I glanced at the clock and realized I needed to get to Holden's and Hamish's room for a hanging practice session. But first... I would have to stop by my own room first for fresh briefs and shorts.
"Wynn!" Hamish greeted me at the door of their room. Hamish and Holden were both out of their clothes already, and Hamish eagerly handed me two lengths of rope.
Holden said with a grin, "We want to show you what we've worked out."
I waited while they set the nooses around each other's neck — they liked to do that themselves — and then I tied their hands behind them with the ropes Hamish had handed me. I pulled the lever and stepped back, watching the two brothers hang.
Holden bore Hamish's weight first. Their lips touched for a light kiss, and then Holden, raising his thigh between Hamish's legs with obvious effort, lifted Hamish by the crotch several inches, enough so that he could kiss Hamish's nipple. Letting Hamish sink down again, and kissing him on the lips again, Holden relaxed his legs to let Hamish take over supporting his weight. Hamish then lifted Holden in the same way, enough to briefly kiss Holden's nipple, then lowering him again. They went through a second cycle, then Hamish signaled for me to raise the platform.
Holden, face glowing, breathing deeply, looked down at me. "Did you ever do that with Maverick? Tell us you didn't! We wanted to see if we could come up with something new!"
I shook my head slowly, my eyes wide. "No, we never tried that. I don't think it really occurred to either of us. I'm not sure we would have done it. You've got an advantage in being lighter than either of us; as long as your legs are strong enough, you can manage it. The only thing is, you look like you're really straining. The audience likes it better very smooth and natural."
Hamish nodded eagerly. "Oh, we know! We want to keep working on it to get a lot smoother, and we're doing some new exercises to build up our thigh muscles."
Holden added, "And the butt. You can really feel it there."
I laughed. "I'm sure. You tire more quickly too, don't you? Is this going to take away from the total time of the program?"
Hamish responded, "It would if we had to do a show right now..."
Holden continued for him, "...but we're going work on that too. If we can make the transition smoother, that will also help with the breathing..."
Hamish finished the thought, "That and the muscle strength together. We just need to keep practicing it."
I nodded. "Okay. Now take another couple of minutes, and then I want to see your other moves. Without the new one, for now."
Both nodded, and Hamish spoke. "Wynn, I wanted to ask you..." He stopped, and bit his lip, his smile suddenly a little shy.
I was about to prompt him to go on, but then was able to read it on his face. I smiled, deciding to make it easier for him. "You want to sleep with me tonight?"
Hamish blinked in surprise. "How did...? Oh yeah." He grinned. "I have to get used to that." He knew about the expertise of Hanging Boys in reading body language, but not much about how it was done. "So it's okay?"
Holden broke in, "Runner can stay with me, unless he already made plans with somebody else."
I reached up to put my hand in one of Hamish's bound ones. "Of course. I was hoping I could get a chance to get to know you better."
Hamish beamed at me. "Great!"
I backed away. "Okay, get yourselves ready. I want you to start with the chest bumps, and go from there."
The boys both nodded, and closed their eyes, getting their breathing back to normal.
I was just opening my door when I heard a bark to my left. I turned with a smile to welcome Puppy, and my jaw dropped. I stared as Puppy came bounding toward me: his headfur was now bright pink.
Puppy began licking my leg, and I squatted down to put my face in range. Stroking Puppy, I looked up to see Jordan peeking around the corner, grinning. "So how do you like it?"
I stammered, "What... how...?" He blinked hard. "How did you get him to sit still for it?"
"He wanted it that way."
I stroked Puppy's hair, looking like so much cotton candy. "He told you that?"
Jordan nodded. "Well, pretty much. We were going by the salon, and Monroe was coming out. He'd just finished getting his hair turned blonde — you know how he changes it a couple of times a year. Puppy saw him and kind of started dancing around, barking. Not mad, you know, the happy bark. He knew who Monroe was, but he was giving Monroe this really puzzled look, and he really seemed fascinated with the new hair color. Then he ran up to the salon's full-length mirror and started looking at himself really intently, like he thought his own hair might be a different color now too."
Puppy was very familiar with his own image in a mirror by now. It had been Elton's idea that if Puppy could see that he looked like all of the boys around him, he might realize he was anthro as well, and perhaps would think that he should be able to do what the others could do — including speaking. It was clear that Puppy quickly learned that the image in the mirror was himself, and he enjoyed looking at it. But so far there had been no sign that he'd been inspired to try to imitate the boys' vocal sounds.
Jordan continued, "I was thinking he might like it to be another color, so Monroe and I took him to the library and brought up a boy's face on the computer screen, and started changing the hair color. I wasn't sure at first if Puppy caught on to what the idea was, but at least he kept watching. Then Monroe started getting silly and tried some really goofy hair colors, like lime green, sky blue. When he got to pink, Puppy started barking and making these really excited whimpering sounds, seeing this boy with pink hair. So we took him back to the salon. He was really sweet through the whole thing, so I knew he knew what they were doing. And you should have seen him looking at the mirror when they got finished. He touched his hair, then he gave his excited bark. Then as soon as Gwen took the gown off him, he bounded. He's been showing it off to all his friends." Jordan laughed.
I squatted in front of Puppy, put my hands on either side of his face and looked into his eyes. "You like that, Puppy?" I ruffled Puppy's hair, very short but nicely trimmed like my own, but bright, glowing, almost fluorescent pink.
Puppy barked excitedly.
I grinned up at Jordan. "Wonder if he'll drag one of us back to the salon to do it again when he starts seeing dark roots."
Jordan laughed again. "Probably."
I thought back to the painting at Ted's house, including the puppyboy with every hair on his body dyed green. I looked between Puppy's legs. "Wonder if he'd want his sheath and balls pink too."
Jordan looked at me in surprise. "We never thought of that. I should get to studying, though. Test in physiology tomorrow."
I shook my head. "Oh, I didn't mean right now. There's no hurry." I waved to the departing Jordan, opened my door and let Puppy precede me inside. Puppy ran quickly to the mirror I set down at floor level for him a week ago. Puppy often examined himself, but never so happily as now.
I grinned. As rarely as Puppy demonstrated people-behavior, it was funny to see him showing as much vanity as any five other boys combined. "Lunch, Puppy?"
Puppy turned and barked at the familiar word.
I grabbed my food card and a leash for Puppy. I had made it a rule that any boy taking Puppy to the caf should keep him on a leash there, so Puppy wouldn't help himself to interesting-looking food on another boy's plate. Despite not officially being a slave, Puppy wore a new leather collar for attaching the leash. Puppy was very accustomed to the arrangement — in fact, he sometimes picked up the leash in his mouth as a sign he was hungry. He padded alongside me toward the caf. He seemed more eager than usual, no doubt wanting to show off his hair.
I returned cautiously to the library after lunch, suspecting... yes, Runner was there, at a table near the new section of childrens' books. Runner was sufficiently absorbed that he didn't notice me coming in. Normally I'd have walked over to see what Runner was reading, starting a discussion full of questions from Runner, but I didn't want Runner looking over my shoulder while I reviewed his second bedroom session at last night's party.
The computer was equipped with headphones. I made it to the computer undetected, and sat down to watch the video unnoticed.
The video resumed from the point I'd left off viewing earlier. I would have fast-forwarded through the interval of Runner dressing in his slacks, shirt, and vest and brushing his fur, but I watched the usually uninteresting process with fascination. It was impressive that Runner seemed so comfortable with brushing his fur into shape, a skill so recently learned, but... well, that's just him.
When I saw Runner's final step of preparation for Rochelle's visit, I gasped, then looked across the library to see if Runner had heard me. I gaped at the screen. I'd been concerned that Runner's skillful handling of Jimmy's needs might have been a coincidence, that Runner might have decided beforehand to treat every male bed-partner based on that one movie. Instantly that concern evaporated. Runner had pulled the toy drawer, which I'd shown him just yesterday, completely out of its cabinet, and set it on the edge of the bed in plain sight.
I'd known Rochelle would want the toys but, as with Pellis, I hadn't managed to say anything about Rochelle's desires to Runner. But Runner, somehow, had known. And Runner had realized Rochelle wasn't a member, and wouldn't have known the toy drawer was there unless it was made visible to her. So he had put it out there to be seen. He'd done it for Rochelle in particular. He'd known Pellis didn't need the toys.
I wondered: are all Island boys like Runner? His intelligence, his eagerness to learn, his sensitivity to the thoughts of others... the last of these really stood out to me as I watched the video. I didn't harbor any suspicions that Runner was literally reading minds, in the commonly understood sense of somehow sensing brainwaves, especially since all fully-trained Hanging Boys had that same skill. Many outsiders did perceive what Hanging Boys did as mind-reading, but it was nothing more than watching for the outward, physical signs that internal thoughts painted on the face, the body. I'd learned it along with my classmates. But with Runner, the skill seemed innate. We had given Runner some quick lessons in the last few days, in preparation for the party, but Runner had demonstrated the ability long before that, with no training at all. Could all of the boys Runner grew up with do the same thing?
I remembered, then: there was evidence that Runner had stood out, apart, in that environment as well as this one. At the age of five, or thereabouts, Runner had already been beating teenaged boys in a game of thoughtful strategy, that game with stones in circles that he loved so much. (And no boy at the Academy so far had beaten him at it either.) Somehow Runner's mind ran at full speed, at peak efficiency, all the time, his mental focus going beyond anything I'd ever seen — even in Maverick, who had set the previous standard I'd judged from — and none of the boys Runner had grown up with had matched it. Runner, after all, had understood the need to escape from the control of the Island men and had found a way to accomplish that. If all of the Island boys were like him, they would have broken free and taken over the island long ago.
Runner's sensitivity to body language had grown more accurate and powerful since he'd arrived at the Academy; but it was just part of a larger phenomenon.
My attention was drawn back to the video screen by Rochelle's arrival.
Runner turned to face Rochelle, with his head down, his eyes looking at the floor, his hands clasped behind his back. I realized that Runner's posture was again imitating a scene from a movie we'd watched recently.
Rochelle looked Runner up and down, a small smile on her face. "Man, if only I'd known on the boaboat."
Rochelle looked to her right, suddenly. "Where's...?" She saw the empty space where the toy drawer had been, then saw the drawer itself on the bed. Her smile widened. "Okay."
I blinked, then remembered Rochelle had just spent an hour with Jordan. Jordan had showed her the toy drawer.
Rochelle fished around in the drawer and withdrew a wide belt with leather wrist cuffs. "Take those off." She gestured at his clothing.
Without looking up, Runner responded in a small, almost whispery voice, "Yes, maam," and slowly, with the same sensuous swaying of his hips as before, undid his vest and shrugged it off on the floor. Then he did the same with his shirt, and finally the slacks.
Rochelle made a sound halfway between a grunt and a groan. In a slightly strangled voice, she said, "Undies, too."
"Yes, maam." Runner hooked his fingers under the waistband on either side, and writhed sinuously as he pushed the boxers down his leg, looking almost as if he were a snake rising up out of them. His cock was already hard, pointing directly at Rochelle. I groaned and shifted in my seat; I was going to need to change my own clothes yet again. I could usually watch videos from party sessions clinically, but this was different. This was Runner.
Rochelle, unable to wait any longer, quickly stripped out of her own clothes. She fastened the belt tightly around Runner's waist, then buckled his wrists into the cuffs. To complete her control of him, she chose a leather leash from the box and clipped it to the back of Runner's "Slave Boy" collar.
A fleeting thought ran through my head: I hope Marcus is watching really closely. Then I remembered that this entire session had taken place the previous night, and Runner, obviously unharmed, was now sitting across the library from me reading a book.
Turning to face Rochelle again, with his head still down, Runner said, "Please do what you want with me, maam. I belong to you." A line from the movie.
Rochelle looked around, and chose a narrow chair with no arms. "Sit," she gestured to it.
Runner, exuding gratitude for being issued a command, said eagerly, "Yes, maam," as he sat down.
Rochelle got some ropes out of the drawer, and tied Runner into the chair: each ankle to a front leg, a rope around his chest and another around his belly. She tied the leash tightly to the back of the chair, forcing him to keep his head up or strangle.
Looking at Runner on the screen, I could see the inner battle he was waging. He really wanted to look down, both to indicate submissiveness and for the pleasure of being strangled. But Rochelle obviously expected him to keep his head up, so he did.
The caracal straddled Runner and grabbed his erection. Holding it up, she rubbed it against her opening until it was wet. Then, groaning, she slowly lowered herself onto his maleness, and began moving slowly up and down on it.
Runner moaned quietly each time she lowered herself onto him. I was sure he was enjoying the experience; I'd learned to read him very well during the last few weeks. At last, Rochelle gave a sigh and a series of soft yipping noises, and Runner sighed as he came deep inside her. She stayed impaled on him, draping herself over his chest, before straightening with a satisfied sigh as he shrank out of her.
When Rochelle stood up at last, Runner used another line from the movie — "May I clean that for you, maam?". He made licking motions with his tongue, making his proposed method of cleaning clear.
Rochelle's eyes opened wide. "Uhhh... uh-huh."
Runner licked and caressed Rochelle, using tips Marcus and I had given him. Soon she was ready to go again...
I discovered later that Jordan had needed nearly ten minutes to figure out that Rochelle would be interested in the toy drawer. There was no possibility he had somehow passed the word on; Runner had been occupied with Jimmy during Jordan's entire session with Rochelle.
That Night
I snuggled against Hamish in bed, enjoying our post-lovemaking warmth. Hamish was as adept at kiss-licks as his brother. The practice had spread quickly around the school following Holden's arrival, but no one did it quite as well as Holden. Except Hamish. I felt another tingle in my cock, just from remembering.
I thought Hamish might have drifted off to sleep, until I felt him wriggle slightly against me to get more comfortable. I whispered, "You doing okay, spending a night without Holden?"
Hamish whispered sleepily, "I'm good," before coming awake more fully. "I miss him, of course. Being without him for a night is almost like when I spent a year away from him. There's... such a big part of me missing. But I know I need to do stuff like this." He suddenly sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry, that came out so wrong! I don't mean I'm with you now because I feel like I have to be. You've done so much for both of us. Fixing it so we can be in the same class, and teaching us to do shows together. That's going to be so great. I love you, Wynn! I was just... well, I meant something more general. There are parts of being a Hanging Boy that we have to do individually. We both want to be the best Hanging Boys we can be, more than anything."
I gave him a squeeze. "You don't need to apologize. I know what you mean. As soon as I got to know Holden, I knew how... central you are to each other. The way you can't be whole without each other. I know what it feels like to love someone with your whole heart, and to be loved back the same way — I've had that, more than once — but it still falls short of what you and Holden have."
The subject seemed to cue something in Hamish's mind, something that I felt he'd been reluctant to ask, fearing the answer. "Wynn, the Dean wants us to put on hanging shows together at alternate Second Year and Third Year parties, and he'll auction us as a pair at the end, because he's thinking we'd bring in more money that way, but when the First Year parties come along, he wants us to do what all the other boys do. Hosting members one-on-one, by ourselves. He said he needs to make sure we can handle bedroom duties individually. We understand that, and we're okay with it, but..."
I realized where this was going. "You're afraid when you graduate you'll be sold separately? That he's getting you ready for that?"
Hamish gulped and nodded, his head brushing my chest. "He says he wants us to be able to do anything any Hanging Boy can do, and satifying our owners and their guests in bed is part of it. But is that for just-in-case, or could he really want to sell me without Holden? If I'm sold by myself, I'll do the best show I know how to do, but..."
I knew that Hamish couldn't bring himself to put it in words — the emptiness of what should be a Hanging Boy's final triumph, if he had to do it without his brother.
"I think he knows he has something special in the two of you. I'm sure he'd want to... make sure of using you the best way he can."
"Like we could do a terminal pair hanging? Wouldn't he need to be able to get more money for that one hanging than for two separate ones? Would somebody pay that much?"
I thought it over. "Anybody who knows beforehand what you're capable of. Like a member who's already seen you. They'd know."
"Oh, like with Maverick..." Hamish interrupted himself with a gasp and suddenly sat upright. "Could it be just like Maverick's show? Holden told me all about that. Maverick did his show here, and made way more money than any Hanging Boy ever, because all the members knew what they'd see! We could do that, couldn't we?"
I sat up beside him and grinned. "Oh, sure, that'd be perfect. We could talk to..." I frowned. "It's too early to ask the Dean, I think. He hasn't even seen you do one show yet. You'll have to talk to him later, after you do that. I'll be gone."
Hamish bit his lip. "But you're so good, getting him to do things! Holden's told me about all the things you've made him do."
I laughed. "I never made him do anything. I make him want to do things. You just have to know him... Look. I can tell you what you need to know. It's not really all about money. It may look like that sometimes, but that's not it. He will do anything — anything — to make the Academy a better place. Taking in more money is part of that, but just part. If something will make the shows better, if something will teach the boys more, he wants that. Anything like that. The Academy is his life. I've understood him, because I've always felt that same way. And you and Holden do too. If you want anything from him, you need to show him what it will do to help the Academy. Think about it in those terms — only in those terms. Then talk to him."
Hamish's eyes were aglow. "This is that kind of thing, isn't it? Something unique, something the members have never seen before. Something they'd want to be part of, that they'd remember for years. They'd pay to see that, like they paid to see Maverick hang, so there's money in it, but it also builds the Academy's reputation! Right?"
I grinned. "Exactly."
Hamish threw his arms around me and squeezed me tightly, his lips finding mine for a long, hard kiss. In seconds we were both moaning, our hands roaming each other's bodies.
Next Morning
The caf was beginning to clear out by the time Hamish and I got there. At a table in the corner, Marcus and Zuchter were just finishing, and Puppy was licking up the last of a bowl of fruit salad, his favorite breakfast. Puppy saw me, and sprang upward and jerked at the leash. He looked reproachfully at Marcus for holding him back. I came over and hugged Marcus and Zuchter, then knelt down to hug Puppy and receive the usual excited face licks.
Zuchter grinned. "Everybody loves his hair like this."
I laughed. "I'm sure. Have Holden and Runner been in yet?"
Marcus shook his head. "Haven't... oh, there." He pointed, as the two boys walked in.
Hamish got there first, running across the room from the serving line to throw his arms around his brother and give him a long kiss. I hugged Runner, and had barely touched lips with him when the speaker in the room crackled to life. "Wynn Cameron, please come to the Dean's office."
I blinked, and finished kissing Runner. "I'd better go see what he wants."
Holden, holding Hamish's hand, said, "We'll wait for you."
I bit my lip. "I don't know how long I'll be. I'll try to get Tina to let you know if it's a long meeting. I don't know what it's about."
Tina directed me into the office, and I entered, feeling a little nervous. Usually I had some idea what might be up.
At least the Dean was smiling as he directed me to a seat. The Dean went directly to the subject. "I watched the videos of Runner's sessions at the party. Very impressive."
I nodded. "Yes, Sir. I was pretty amazed myself."
"I can see you prepared him well..."
"Several of us worked on it, Sir, not just me."
He nodded. "How did you let him know what approach to take with each of the sailors? I've also reviewed video from the main room, and I didn't see you take him aside and speak to him in the middle of the party. Some sort of prearranged hand signals I missed?"
I shook my head and opened my mouth to speak, and was suddenly overcome with laughter. Aware of the Dean's puzzled look, I worked to get hold of myself. "Sir... I know you can read whether I'm telling you the truth or not, but you're going to have a hard time with this. I didn't tell him anything about them, in particular. We did give him a lot of examples beforehand of different positions and things different femmes liked, to supplement what he's already learned from movies, so he had different formats to choose from, and we did give him some tips on reading sexual interests. But nothing specific about Ms. Bailor or Mr. Pellis. There wasn't really any time to do that, with everything going on."
The Dean stared at me for a long time, and finally said, "What?"
"He figured it out on his own. He's been doing stuff like this more and more lately. Reading us, I mean. It seems to come naturally to him."
He was silent again for a time, and at last managed, "Indeed." He leaned forward. "The generic lessons you gave him... Were they really as detailed as it appears they must have been? Spoken scripts, and so on?"
My earlier laughter bubbled up again as a brief giggle. "He didn't get that from us. I could show you clips of the movies they came from."
The Dean sat back, doing the characteristic tapping with the pen he was holding. "I'll need to think this over. I believe I'll watch the videos again, with this new information in mind."
"Yes, Sir. I was just thinking, to give the whole thing some sort of context... Runner is just very..." I searched for a word. "Unusual. Special. You're probably thinking this is all very odd, because so many things suggest Runner was born to be a Hanging Boy, in a place where they don't have any. And somehow, here he is now, at the Academy. That seems to stretch the laws of probability, but I don't think that's quite what's going on. He wasn't born to be a Hanging Boy in particular. He was born with so many special abilities — and I'm sure we haven't even seen all of them yet — that he could become anything he wanted to be, and really excel at it, whatever it was. It just turns out that he saw me practicing hanging, so he wants to be a Hanging Boy. And so he's here."
He nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll accept that. At least I can't argue with it. I don't know enough yet."
I smiled. "You'll have years ahead of you to get to know him, Sir. I think that time will be very valuable, to both of you. You'll be able to give him what he wants most of all, making him a Hanging Boy, and he'll give you back everything he can, which is a lot."
The Dean leaned forward, with an air of ending the interview. "Thank you, Wynn. For the information." He smiled. "And for bringing a jewel back with you from the island."
I grinned. "Always happy to help, Sir."