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One Snow Leopard, Four Willing Victims
Author's Note: I want to commission some cover illos for my stories. If you are interested, and willing/able to draw hanging/snuff scenes, please see my journal entry: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/4194380/. Almost all my hangings are consensual, and the hangee should look like he/she is enjoying (or expects to enjoy) it.
Damien glided into the playroom and looked over his slaves. He was pleased with what he saw. Four young furs knelt naked in a row on the blue carpet, their hands resting on their thighs. They were partly aroused just waiting for him. The wall they were facing was mirrored, so they could all see each other. The other walls were done in a pale blue flocked wallpaper.
The snow leopard smiled hungrily. He was wearing a green silk robe, belted at the waist with a thick hemp rope, one end tied into a hangman's noose.
"You all know what's going to happen?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," they chorused.
"Does anybody want out?"
All four slaves shook their heads, and one gasped out "No," in a shocked voice.
He uncoiled a silk cord from his left wrist. "I'm going to start with William and go from left to right. That will give the rest of you time to prepare yourselves."
"I am ready, Master," said the raccoon.
Damien took a moment to admire William, his eyes dwelling on the thick gray fur, white & black face markings, and the thick, striped tail that he had often enjoyed playing with.
The coon sat up straight and tall as Damien walked behind him and wrapped the cord around his neck. He allowed just one word to escape his lips as Damien slowly pulled the cord tight. "Yesss...," he said, barely above a whisper, drawing it out long seconds until he could no longer get sound past the cord.
He remained kneeling almost half a minute before starting to writhe and struggle; even then, his hands remained on his thighs. After a while, his fingers started to dig into his thigh muscles, then his hands curled into fists. He had started out partly erect, but soon was pointing almost straight up as he started beating his thighs alternately. His eyes grew wide as his need for air grew. Little drops of precum oozed from the end of his cock. Then his back arched and he stretched his arms straight down until his knuckles brushed the floor. His eyes began to glaze over as he spurted thick gobs of raccoon cum just seconds before his hands went limp. His chest muscles continued to strain for air, though, and his back remained arched.
And then, gradually, those muscles went limp too.
Damien lowered the coon's body gently onto his back, leaving the cord draped loosely around the neck. He spent a few seconds admiring the raccoon's body, still erect — the sleek fur and wide-eyed stare.
Then the uncia padded over to Rafe. The smell of Damien's arousal filled the room, mixing with the scent of the raccoon's cum and musk from the three remaining slaves.
"Master, may I beg a last favor?" asked the otter.
"You may."
"Please, tie my hands."
"Don't trust your self-control?"
"No, Master."
Damien took a length of rope and tied Rafe's hands behind his back. He walked around the otter, looking over the dense, red fur and bushy tail, covering the hole that had given both of them such pleasure over the years. Then he took another silk cord from his wrist and draped it under Rafe's chin.
The otter sat up and held his head high as he felt the strangling cord against his throat. "Please, Master," the otter said.
Damien finished looping the cord around Rafe's neck.
"Please, Master," again, as Damien began to tighten the cord. And repeated in a choked voice, then in a whisper... and then silence. The remaining two slaves noticed that the otter's erection grew larger with each repetition of those two words.
Rafe began struggling within a few seconds, his hands fighting the bonds, his body writhing as he fought for breath. He struggled to escape the inexorable pressure of the silk around his throat, but his erection grew harder and thicker even as he struggled.
Rafe's struggles gradually slowed and he slumped down on his knees, then he went rigid, head high, arms stretched out straight down his back, hands clenched. Semen spewed from his cock, again and again until he finally went limp except for his chest. Damien held the cord tight until the otter's body shook once, twice, then slumped over in death. He laid the body out on its back with the cord around its neck like the first one.
Damien walked to Kimball and asked, "Do you want your hands tied, too?"
"I think it would be hotter that way, Master."
Damien gave the dog a sharp look. "Hotter?"
"I like to imagine I'm being executed by you, and in a proper execution the prisoner's hands are tied. So it will feel more real, and more exciting to me that way. Mmmmmmm... A traditional Chinese execution at the strangling post?" The spaniel was practically babbling. "A sturdy post, stuck deep in the ground; my ankles tied together behind it, and my wrists..."
Damien reached down and coated a paw with his precum, then offered it to the golden spaniel, who greedily started licking it off.
"You've always been pushy, kid" mused Damien. "I remember when you asked to become my slave, you were pushy even then, trying to set the conditions for your training.... Did you know that on three separate occasions I nearly gave up and sent you away as untrainable? I'm still not sure why I didn't, but there was something about you..."
The dog opened his mouth to respond, but the leopard touched a finger to his lips for silence.
"But over those months you changed. Not that you stopped trying to get your own way. But somehow it always worked out that 'your way' was a real turn-on for me. Even when I hadn't thought it would be... It's almost as though you were telepathic; as though you were reading my unconscious desires."
The cocker spaniel grinned saucily up at him, as if to say, "How do you know I'm not?"
Damien stopped to look over the spaniel. Ky's fur was golden, very thick and very soft; he was already erect and leaking drops of precum. The fantasy was turning Kimball on.
"OK. You want a Chinese-style execution? Stand up!"
The spaniel stood up.
"Stay!"
The leopard left the room briefly. He returned with a heavy pedestal table in one hand and a stout broom in the other. He turned the table upside down, set it down behind the spaniel, and unscrewed the base. Then he took the broom in both hands and broke the handle with a sharp snap that startled both slaves. Damien held up a sheet of paper in one paw and pretended to read from it.
"Kimball Spaniel, you have been tried and found guilty in a court of competent jurisdiction. It is the order of the court that you be tied to the strangling post, and that you there be deprived of breath until your soul has departed your body."
The leopard went on in a low voice, just loud enough for the slaves to hear, "The executioner brings you to the strangling post..." He took Kimball by the shoulders and maneuvered him to stand directly in front of the pedestal, "...and forces you to kneel in front of it." He pushed down until the spaniel was forced to his knees.
Damien grabbed the spaniel's paws and pulled them back around the pole. "...He ties your hands...and then your feet to your hands..." He pulled Ky's hindpaws around the pole, wound a rope around them, and then around the forepaws, pulling them down and forcing the spaniel to sit upright against the pole.
Kimball was panting and his pupils dilated as he listened to Damien's monologue and realized what was happening to him.
"...He throws a loop of thin hemp over your head..." Damien unwound another silk cord from his wrist and tied it loosely around Ky's neck and the pole. He looked in the mirror and saw that "little Kimball" was straining upward as if it would reach the ceiling, and producing a continuous stream of precum.
"Let it go, Ky, let it out," Damien said, and Kimball's cock erupted, spraying jets of cum onto the spaniel's belly, chest, and thighs — and also the carpet.
"Damn!" said Kimball, "I was saving that."
"Huh!" Damien chuckled. "No way you were going to be able to hold out. You were going to come as soon as I started twisting the stick." The leopard chuckled again. "This way you'll have at least one more, maybe two." He looked in the mirror again, and beckoned the last slave, a fox. "Clean him up, Brian."
The fox walked over, crouched in front of Kimball, and started licking semen off the spaniel's fur.
Damien continued talking, "He puts a stick through the cord and twists it to tighten the noose around your neck. And now is when you find out that your executioner is a sadist. He doesn't strangle you quickly, but instead leaves you just barely able to breathe." As he spoke, he inserted the remaining broom handle, about 4' long, into the silken loop. He twisted it until he could hear a loud rasp in Kimball's breathing.
Damien held the stick in his hands and watched while Brian licked the spaniel's fur clean. The fox combed Kimball's fur out with his claws where saliva had matted it down.
Damien knew from experience that Kimball would be able to survive a couple of hours like this. But Damien had other plans for the spaniel. He saw in the mirror that the fox had finished cleaning and grooming Kimball. And Kimball was erect again, from anticipation, from Brian's attentions, from the sensation of the strangling cord, or perhaps all three. The leopard gave the stick in his hands another full turn. The spaniel's breathing noises became louder and irregular. Now... Yes... use one slave to hurry things for the other.
"Hey, Brian, you want to help Kim along?"
"Master?"
The leopard pursed his lips and made sucking noises.
"May I," asked the fox, "Really?"
Damien nodded.
Brian crouched down again, wrapping one paw around the dog's cock and starting to work it with his lips and tongue.
In less than a minute Kimball's eyes were slitted in pleasure and his breathing was even more labored. Damien eased up a quarter turn; he didn't want this to end too soon.
The fox kept working on Kimball's erection, and in only a couple of minutes felt it start to swell. It wouldn't take much more... Brian looked up at Damien and received a nod. He sped up, sliding his lips up and down the spaniel's rod in a rhythm he knew would do the job. A few seconds later he was rewarded with the slightly bitter taste of dog cum. He swallowed it all, then began to slow down, finally stopping when the spaniel tried to wriggle away from his mouth.
Damien checked the mirror again. Even after two orgasms, Kimball's cock was still rock-hard. The leopard tightened a quarter turn again, forcing the spaniel into a losing battle with asphyxia. It took another minute, then Kimball's need to breathe started to win out over his sexual excitement. The spaniel started to writhe in his bonds, but he was tied tightly to the pole.
The leopard caught Brian's eye, "Pat a cake." The fox looked puzzled for a moment, then grinned. He slapped Kimball's erection with one furry paw, waited for it to bob back, then slapped it with the other. And again, and again...
Damien watched Kimball's eyes in the mirror, and saw when the need for pleasure started to fight with the spaniel's need for air. Then the leopard tightened the cord another half turn, waited a minute, and tightened it again.
Kimball's breathing sounds were soon choked off, and he twisted and writhed in his bonds even as his pelvis thrust forward, demanding the punishment that he needed almost as much as he needed air. Another minute... and a half... and the spaniel's cock spewed semen for the third time. There wasn't much, it was thick and ropy. The orgasm depleted the last of Kimball's reserves, and he slumped back against the pole. Another minute, the dog's body convulsed a few times, and it was over.
Damien laid Kimball's body gently on the floor beside the first two slaves. He turned to the fox. "Well done, Brian, well and bravely done."
"It was my duty, Master, and my pleasure. But if Master is pleased with me..."
"Go on."
"I would beg a last boon ."
"What boon do you wish?"
"I would die with my mouth full of your seed."
The leopard froze for a second, then looked again at the fox. "You cooked this up between the two of you, didn't you?"
Brian shook his head, trying without success to keep a smile off his face. "All four of us, Master."
"All of you?"
"Yes, master."
"That explains a few things. I was wondering why Kimball didn't offer to lift his tail for me. That was always one of his favorite things."
"Yes, Master. And that's why we lined up the way we did. You probably didn't notice consciously, but when you came into the room William sat up just a little straighter and a little quicker than the rest of us, so you would do him first."
"If you all cooked this up, why didn't you arrange things so you and Kimball were first? Then you would have had the sex you want and Kimball his elaborate fantasy, and William and Rafe would have had the pleasure of watching you two die before it was their turn."
"I suggested that arrangement, I'm ashamed to admit. But Rafe pointed out that saving the best for last would be more pleasurable for you. And when Kimball came up with his fantasy, we all knew he should be next-to-last. But really we all got our fantasy fulfilled."
"Hmmm??" asked Damien
"Rafe always wanted to think of himself as the unwilling victim, fighting his fate to the last. Once you tied his paws, that left him free to struggle as if he really wanted to escape."
"I see... And Will was always the iron man, the 'I can take anything you dish out' type."
"Yes. And Kimball wanted the elaborate ceremony of a formal execution."
"I... see... I'm going to grant the boon you requested, but I think that calls for a change of procedure: I'm going to hang you."
The fox stiffened, whimpered a few times, then yipped and whined as he spattered cum over his belly and thighs.
"What," asked Damien, "You have an objection?"
"Do I (pant) look like I'm (pant) objecting?" Brian asked.
"No, not really." Damien looked the fox over. "Clean yourself off."
Brian doubled over and licked himself clean.
"Follow me," the leopard ordered.
Brian stood up and padded after his master, out the door, across the grand assembly room, down a short hallway to a room he knew about but had never been privileged to see inside. It was a small room, less than 3 meters on a side, with a trapdoor in the center and a small column just to one side. Mirrors on all four walls, everywhere except the door. A short metal bar projected a few inches below the ceiling.
Brian looked around and felt his breathing and heart speed up as his cock started to rise again. This was the room where he would hang by his neck, a noose strangling him to death, his mouth full of his master's cum — and it was perfect. No matter how he twisted in the noose, he would be able to see his master in a mirror, and his master would be able to watch his face as he hanged. The thought was bringing him dangerously close to cumming again; he started blocking out a drawing in his head, a nice, commercial ad with nothing overtly sexual about it. His breathing slowed down, but he still had an erection so hard it was nearly painful.
A gesture from Damien, and Brian knelt gracefully on the trapdoor. The leopard untied the rope from around his waist, and discarded his robe, standing naked in front of his slave. He held the noose open, and the fox bent forward to slip his head into it. The leopard reached up and looped the rope over the metal bar, took the slack out, and tied it off. "Begin."
The fox clasped his master's cock between his paws, and started licking it. He started out with a teasing maneuver, short, quick flicks of his tongue along the underside. After perhaps half a minute, he changed to full licks along the length of it. In less than another minute, Damien was making low growling noises, but Brian refused to be intimidated. This was his last chance to pleasure Damien, and the fox was going to make sure Master would remember him fondly for a long time.
Brian changed tactics as Damien grew hard. He pursed his lips and slid them along one side of Master's penis, then the other, pleasuring him but not the rapid strokes needed to make the leopard come. After a couple of minutes, he spoke, "Permission to stand?"
Damien looked slightly puzzled, but nodded, "Granted."
The fox stood up and began licking the leopard's nipples. First the left one, then as the pleasure sounds started to decrease he moved to the right one. Then he started to suckle them, working on each one until Damien's moans peaked before changing to the other. He wrapped his paws around the leopard and pulled their bodies together, rubbing his smooth belly fur against Damien's cock, keeping up a circular motion of his midsection while working his tongue over the leopard's areolas.
Brian kept this up until Damien was whining with pleasure-need, then stretched up on his tiptoes and pulled the leopard down for a quick kiss — not as quick as he planned, as Damien held him and kissed him back hard, then gave his neck a couple of "I'm the dominant, so watch yourself" nips.
When Master released him, Brian sank back to his knees, feeling the noose snug up around his neck again. He wrapped his mouth around Damien's cock and worked up a rhythm, but slowly at first. Brian was determined to give Master as much pleasure as possible before the inevitable ending. He concentrated on technique — thinking about the purpose of this would have had him spurting on the leopard's legs.
Brian gradually sped up as the leopard's growls indicated he needed more. Finally, the moment was there, and the fox wrapped both paws around his Master's cock and slid his lips and tongue rapidly up and down the first few inches, while his paws rotated it, producing a swirling effect of his tongue over the leopard's sensitive tip.
A few seconds more, and Damien roared with pleasure. Brian tasted a rush of leopard cum. Yesterday he would have swallowed it, savoring the taste as it went down his throat. But today he had other needs, so he held it in his mouth.
The spurts of semen became smaller and more widely spaced, and at last Damien panted, "Get ready."
Brian let go of his Master's cock, clasped his paws behind his back, and took one last slow breath, filling his nostrils with the scent of contented —no, satiated — leopard.
Damien reached, pushed a button, and the floor disappeared beneath Brian.
The fox fell a few inches, then the noose grabbed his neck like a steel vise. It was fiercely, deliciously painful. Brian's hindpaws reached down, seeking leverage, a way to relieve the crushing pressure at his throat. He knew that there wasn't any and would never be any. He was hanging: Hanged by the neck until dead. But his feet kept trying anyway. But that was OK. His kicking was part of the show he was to put on for Master, and fighting the noose was part of the experience.
Damien watched as Brian fell, then suddenly stopped at the end of the rope and began to spin and struggle. He felt a last few pulses of pleasure from his balls, and a few drops of leopard cum dribbled onto the fox's muzzle, ears, and headfur.
After an eternity, Brian became aware of two more sensations: a growing need for air in his chest, and an enormous need between his legs. The fox continued to struggle, his body writhing as he fought for air, his paws kicking in a desperate search for support.
Damien noticed that the fox did not try to loosen the noose; his paws remained firmly clasped behind his back as if tied there. The leopard sank to his haunches with a sigh of pleasure. "Wow!"
Even as he struggled, Brian watched his Master, directly or in the mirrors as he twisted slowly in the noose. He noticed Damien's reaction to his death struggles, an inch or so of red peeking out from the leopard's sheath. But Master was nowhere near full erection — and the scent still filling Brian's nose told him why.
Brian's struggles gradually slowed as he weakened. His consciousness was reduced to four sensations: the crushing pain at his throat, his need for air, the taste of leopard cum in his mouth, and his need to come. Gradually even the pain faded from his consciousness, and he forgot the fantasy of being hanged like a criminal, with his paws tied. Without conscious thought, his paws came around in front and clasped his fox-hood between them.
Brian's paws slowly stroked his penis, then, driven by the pleasure response, faster. Up. (pause) Down. (pause) Up. (pause) Down. (pause) Up. Down. Up Down. and again and again, and then UpDownUpDownUpDownOhYesOhYesOhY....
Brian's world went white with pleasure, and then faded out.
Damien smiled as he watched the fox pleasure himself. He was triply impressed:
But now the fox hung limp in the noose, swaying gently from side to side. Damien watched, noting the telltale tautness in Brian's chest until, minutes later, the fox's paws twitched, twitched again, one hind paw pulled slowly up to his chest and down again, then the other. And again. Then the fox's chest muscles relaxed, and it was over. The leopard checked the timer in the ceiling. Brian had set a new record. He picked up a phone and dialed two digits.
"Burial detail to the blue room. Full honors. Taxidermy to the gallows room."
Brian's body would be stuffed and put on permanent display. There was no doubt that the fox had earned this honor. Damien's skin still tingled with pleasure, from mid-thigh all the way up to his ears, and it would continue to do so for the rest of the day.
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