The Next Day
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, 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."