Timeo Jaguars et Speedos Gerens -- the Epilogue
An afterthought to the main story. Please read the main story first.
If you haven't read the main story, "Timeo Jaguars et Speedos Gerens," you should do that before reading this epilogue.
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Two hours later, a mixed group of mustellids and felids arrived. One of them fast-talked the desk clerk into issuing an extra key to Damien's room. They went in and cut down Justin and Damien. They put all three bodies in crates, and took them down the service elevator to the loading dock. A van that looked just like the hotel's outside cleaning service drove away with the crates.
The team stayed behind, removed the bondage gear, put the furniture back in a normal position, and scrubbed semen and piss out of the carpets. A badger remained until the 'quick checkout' bill was slipped under the foor. He waited 20 more minutes, then used the TV remote to check Damien out of the room. Then he went to Matthew's room and did the same.
The bodies were cremated and the ashes scattered at sea. But Justin's head was preserved and mounted where the 'escorts' who worked for the service could see it and the plaque that commemorated his giving the ultimate submission.
'Justin' emailed a large amount of money to his brothers. His older brother hired a private detective, who found that Justin had bought and used a one-way ticket to Santamos, a small Carribean country also known as 'The Island of Consensual Executions'. He had checked into a hotel there, and 'checked out' two days later. A 'Consent to Execution' form with his notarized signature was found in the island's public records office.
The bank auditors found the trapdoor program that Damien had used. The police listed him as 'a person of interest' in an embezzling case. But they never found him.
After some months of unpaid bills, Matthew was reported as a missing person. The police made appropriate enquiries, but all they found was that he had checked out of the hotel and taken a flight to a country that did not maintain diplomatic relations with the United States. And the authorities there simply refused to discuss the matter.
Justin and Damien woke up in the bedroom of a house they'd never seen before. They went outside and saw a bar-be-cue party on the lawn across the street. There was a sign on the lawn:
Outer Hell welcomes new residents Damien and Justin.
But it didn't look like Hell. It looked like a comfortable suburb. Well, except for the big gallows, able to handle ten furs at a time, in the town square.
The folf in an apron and chef's hat shook their hands. "Sliced beef and short and spare ribs'll be ready in half an hour or so. Plenty of beer and wine. Help yourself to potato salad and such in the meantime. After you've had a chance to digest, we're holding a necktie party in your honor."
Damien sighed. "I dunno, I think maybe I'm too satieted to enjoy that last."
"Try kissing each other," the host said.
The fennec and the jaguar indulged in a long, hot kiss and found that they were more interested than they'd thought possible.
"See?" laughed the folf, "You never run out of steam here. You can yiff and hang as often as you like. And no hangovers from the drinks, either. 'Welcome to Hell,' like the sign says."
A strange sort of Hell, but neither the jaguar nor the fennec felt like complaining. Neither did the other residents.