Rory's Dance
A slave chooses to hang himself rather than be freed. In the process, he gives a lot of pleasure to himself and to thousands of furs watching him on livestream.
Cover by Aogami
Damien:
"Your contract ends next week," I reminded Rory.
"I know, Master. I'd like to renew for another year."
"Sorry, Pet, but I never keep a slave more than five years. In six days you'll be a free squirrel again."
"Oh, No, Master! I don't want to be free! I've served you faithfully for five years, don't I deserve better than that?"
"Well..."
"Please?"
"There's always the option..."
"Which is?"
"Commit suicide. Hang yourself."
"Oh... I'll do that if it's the only other option, but... bor-ing!"
"Is it still boring if you do it on a streaming webcam, with hundreds of malefurs getting off from watching you die?"
"Oh, that's sounds better."
"And my voice telling you what to do?"
"Just your voice?"
"Yes. I'll be here at home, with a Skype connection to your hotel room. I'll tell you to do it. You'll be free to refuse, if you choose."
"That's mean. I don't want to choose. I'd rather do it as your slave. And I'd much rather you did it to me!"
"Sorry. I don't want to run into the laws against slave abuse and assisted suicide. I'll order you to set it up, but the final choice has to be yours."
"And I'll hear your voice telling me to hang myself?"
"Yes, and so will the audience."
"Oh, Master! Thank you, Master!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I reserved a fancy suite, two stories laid out like a loft apartment, at a nearby hotel. We went over there two days before Rory's slavery ended. He checked in, we went up, looked at the room, and let the bellhop put Rory's suitcases on the luggage racks.
After the bellhop had left, Rory opened one of the suitcases and got out his favorite hemp rope. He tied a hangman's knot in it, and tied the other end to the rail on the upper-floor overlook. We went back downstairs, he grabbed the rope and lifted himself into the air. Then I jumped up and grabbed his shoulders. His fingers slipped a few inches, but the knot and the railing held firm.
It would do. Rory untied the rope and packed it away in a drawer. No sense freaking out the housecleaning staff.
I went back home, leaving Rory to get used to his home for the last day of his life.
I boxed up a library stool and arranged for it to be sent overnight to him at the hotel. The staff brought it to his room, of course, and he thanked the bellhop and tipped about twice what the service was normally worth.
Rory:
I got my laptop out of the suitcase, connected to the hotel's Wi-Fi, and charged two days of Internet access to the room. I Skyped to Master Damien and made sure the speakers were working properly and that his voice could be heard clearly in the suite's atrium area.
"Okay, Rory," he told me. "Take the computer into the left-hand bedroom."
I did. It had a nice, comfortable queen-size bed. We'd seen the Master bedroom when we first came in; it had an oversize king bed. But that room should be for Master; I won't sleep there unless he orders me to.
"Get undressed for bed," he ordered.
I did, posing briefly in front of the cam for him.
"Nice. Now get out your vibrator."
I opened the suitcase and found the extra-large vibrator. I knew what that meant. Sure enough...
"Smear lube on it. Put it under your tail, and turn it on."
I did. This was my favorite way to masturbate: it always hurt going in no matter how much I practiced, and I love the pain. The buzz-thump soon had me grimacing every time the thump hit me, and my cock got hard in seconds. My lips and my nipples felt hypersensitive, too.
"Get into bed and jack off, Rory. Don't stop until you've cum twice."
So I did. But first I opened my suitcase and got out a dildo, an exact replica of Master's dick. Sucking on the With that vibe in my tailhole and sucking on the wolf-cock dildo, it didn't take me long to get hard again after the first time. I was an exhausted squirrel by the time I finished, and when Master told me to turn off the vibe and go to sleep, I was out in about a minute.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I woke up around 8 the next morning, got out of bed, and took a shower. I'd just had time to pull the luxurious bathrobe around myself when there was a knock at the door. It was room service, a cart loaded with all my favorite breakfast foods, plus a chilled bottle of Taittinger.
Now how did they know the right time...? Then I looked at the dresser in my room, with my laptop, the Skype connection to Master Damien still open. Uh-huh.
There was too much for me to eat, so I just ate a little of this and a little of that until I was comfortably full, washing it down with sips of champagne and juice.
As soon as I had put the cart out in the corridor and called Room Service to take it away, I heard Master Damien's voice from the Skype connection on my laptop.
"Rory."
"Yes, Master?"
"I'll be there at 10. We can share the rest of your champagne, get you set up for tonight, and have lunch together."
I passed the time autographing a stack of jewelbox inserts. Lovely photo of me, naked, hanging. Master Damien took it last time I hanged for him, after I came but was still conscious, a drop of cum clinging to the end of my cock. I really look like I'm about at the end of my rope. (Hah!) Title across, semi-transparent where it crosses my body: Rory's Dance. Perfect. What shall I write? I know: Thank you so much for watching me dance. Rory.
Once I've done that pleasurable chore, I put on some nice clothes. The bathrobe is comfortable, but not exactly what I want to greet my Master in.
Master actually showed up a couple of minutes early. I ran over and hugged him, feeling my wolf pressed against my body from knees to chest. We each had a glass of champagne, then he led me into the suite's master bedroom. He undressed me, and each time he took something off, he kissed whatever was uncovered. By the time I was naked, I was panting, and so was Master.
Damien had me bend over and put my hands on the wall to support myself. I twisted my tail to one side, like a female dog, a bitch. Appropriate: I'm Master's bitch, and proud to be his bitch. Master looped a cord around my neck and took me from behind, again like a dog covering a bitch. He pulled the cord so I could barely breathe, and my cock started to tingle. I was even happier when I felt his cum flow into me and he yanked the cord tight around my neck, cutting off my breath. He was still hard inside me as I started to cum.
I woke up in bed with Master, with me on the inside of the spoon. My neck was sore, but I felt wonderful. I could only hope my final hanging would be this good.
Damien:
I gave Rory his last fuck, and it was as good for me as it was for him. He's been a very good slave, but getting old. That's why I never renew a slave's contract after five years.
Rory wanted to take me in his mouth when he woke up, but I was completely satiated from before. I cuddled him for a while, and reassured him that he'd been a really fine slave. Not flattery, just the plain truth.
We went downstairs to the hotel's fancy restaurant, and ordered a "tasting menu" for two, a succession of small bites that added up to a decent meal. Lots of different things, all of them good, some of them surprising.
We went back to the room, cuddled some more, then I started setting things up on the laptop. My overnight shipment included two digital camcorders -- a lot better than the webcam in the laptop. I set them up to get crossed views of the area where Rory would be hanging, then hooked them up to the laptop.
I logged into the website where we'd be doing the streaming, and double checked everything. The advertising went up two days ago, and from the look of things we'd have a pretty good paying audience.
Rory:
Master called me in to the suite's atrium. Under his direction, I went upstairs with the rope, took one turn around the railing, and let both ends drop to the lower floor. Then I tied a noose in one end, put it around my neck, climbed up on the stool, and gently pulled the loose end until the rope was almost taut. Then I pulled back a little slack, so I could easily slip the noose off and on. Master took a piece of tape and marked the spot where it touched the railing.
Damien:
I looped the rope around the railing a second time, to act as a belay. Then I came downstairs, opened a Skype connection to an old friend, Jack, and gave him the private address of the stream. The public address would go live at 11:30PM.
I had Rory climb down and do a brief striptease for Jack. He verified that the cameras covered him while my squirrel stripped, then that they worked properly as Rory climbed back on the stool and put the noose around his neck. Jack and I separately made sure that the double view looked good on the streaming site.
"Get ready," I told Rory. I grabbed the free end of the rope.
Rory:
"Get set...." Master told me. "Go."
I pulled my feet up until I was hanging, then kicked the stool away. I hung still for a little, until I started to run out of air, then started kicking. Below me I could see Master holding the rope, and looking back and forth between me and the images on the laptop. He seemed pleased.
"29...30." He lowered me to the floor. Damn! I was one frustrated squirrel! Another fifteen seconds or so and I could have cum. Master saw my expression and nodded to me. I bent my legs just enough to strangle myself. He came over and rubbed me with his hand, and I came, hard, then things went gray...
I woke up on the floor and smiled up at Master. I was ready. I was ready any time.
"I put it away," he said, nodding toward the same drawer where we'd put the rope before.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Master took me to the best seafood restaurant in town for my last meal. A lobster, plus a couple of crabcakes, cornbread, a sampling from the raw bar. I'd rather have had his semen, to tell the truth, but this was nice. Just enough to satisfy, not so much I'd feel bloated.
Back to the hotel for a short nap. I set the alarm for 11PM: I wanted to be refreshed and wide-awake for my Last Dance. Master talked quietly to me until I fell asleep. Then he left. The rest was up to me.
I woke up about 10:30, turned off the alarm, and got dressed again: striptease clothes: mostly leather, zipper and pop-off buttons so I could take it off without awkward pauses, revealing enough to be tantalizing. When I was done, I sat down and mentally visualized what I planned to do, getting excited as I thought about it. But Master had made it clear I wasn't allowed to get myself off. "Just deal with it," was my motto for the next half-hour or so. Anyway, I figured to be dead long before blueballs became a problem.
11:28, and I was standing in the door of my room, ready to go out and do my show.
George:
Another late night at work and it's nearly 11 when I get home. We have a review meeting at 10 tomorrow, and I need to be able to respond to questions -- and get it right -- or the project will get canceled. And here I am, my head buzzing with ideas from today's work. Well, let's fire up the browser and see what's available in the way of porn.
What's this? This squirrel, he's going to hang himself in less than an hour. Not just for twenty or thirty seconds: he's planning to go the Full Monty, hang by the neck until he's dead and gone. Wow! Pretty face. And look at the tail on that squirrel! The price is kinda steep, but... I can afford that. Yes!
I had dinner at work but I'm nearly always hungry, just like a feral lynx. I grab some snack foods and mix myself a drink. Authorize the charge and set the telly to play the stream when it comes on. When I'm done watching this I'll fall into bed and sleep like a log.
Countdown's starting. Less than a minute...
And there it is. Two views of a big hotel room. Nobody in it, though. Then there's a deep male voice.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. Tonight you will see something you won't see every day. Maybe once a year, if you're lucky and have a lot of money. Remember, if you like what you see, press the "applause" button so Rory can hear it! And here he is, my slave, Rory Squirrel. Come out and tell the audience what they're going to see, Rory."
Rory:
Showtime! I move out into the room with a gliding step, turn to face the camera mounted above the laptop -- the place where I hear Master's voice.
"Hello. I'm Rory, and I'm Master Damien's slave -- until Midnight. I've been Damien's slave for five years, but he won't renew my contract again. So I'm going to hang myself, right here, to entertain you and because I don't want to live without him."
"Show us something Rory."
I do a little groin-wiggle, a teaser for the real dance I'll be doing later.
"Take off your shoes, Rory."
I stand on one foot, bring up the other, untie my topsider and pull it off, then do the same with the other foot.
"Now your sweater."
I unbutton my sweater and slip it off, twirling it on one finger a few seconds, then drop it on the floor. A little more groin-wiggle around the area...
"Your shirt."
I undo that and pull it open, let everybody get a good look at my chest. Then I do a hip-thrust and pull it off. I hear the applause from the laptop. It feels good.
I do my little wiggle-dance around a little longer. I have experience, I know just how to keep everybody tantalized with the hope of seeing the next item come off. And Master knows too. At just the right moment...
"Take off your slacks, Rory."
I unzip, slide them down a little, then pull them back up. Then down enough to show the tops of my black 2xists , and back up. A few more inches, enough to let them see the bulge of my package, then back up again. Finally I slide them down to my knees, then let them fall to my feet. I step out, pick them up and hold them for the audience to se. Then I toss it lightly in the direction of the laptop, as though bestowing it on a patron in a male strip show. Applause again.
Master lets me prance around for a while, shaking my butt and my tail at the cameras -- side to side, then in a circular motion, I know all the moves.
"Take it off. Take it all off." Master's voice, speaking for the audience.
George:
Wow! He's everything that was advertised. What a package! And he sure knows how to use it. I press the applause button again, and we hear it in the room. He smiles again, guess he really likes to hear us appreciate him.
Now he's pulling his briefs down. Just a little. Then back up, just like he teased us with his slacks. Now back down again, enough to show us his that he shaves. Now he starts wriggling, what hips that squirrel has got, and what moves! As he shimmies, the briefs seem to just naturally slither down, farther... I can see a little of his dick... and farther... almost all of it... Applause: Click! Click! Click!!
Now it's sliding down to his knees, I see his Full Monty, dick, balls, everything. Now he's turning around, slowly. His bum comes into view, trim and firm, just big enough. Yeah. Click. And farther... and we see his crack in the side view. He reaches back and spreads his cheeks. Nice arsehole! Click! Click!
He turns the other direction, facing the camera again, and does some hip-thursts at us. Oh yeah. Nice big cock, but not too big, and a tailhole that is just begging to be fucked.
Now he slowly spins in place, letting us see his body from all sides. Lies down on his back, legs spread, wow! Click! Click! This is one seriously fit squirrel!
Rory:
"Okay, Rory, set up your rope."
I go over to the drawer, not quite in a straight line, still dancing around a bit. From now on I want everything sensuous right up to the end. I open the drawer and take out the rope. wiggling my butt a bit for the camera. Up the stairs, I let the noose down until the tape is at the edge of the railing, then tie the rope off good. I'd practiced this several times with Damien watching to make sure I could get it right the first time.
Back down the stairs on the balls of my feet, with a little bounce in my behind as the camera follows me.
"Fetch the stool."
It's just out of camera range. I reach out one hand, hook it, and pull it in where everybody can see it, and put it just under the noose. My noose. More applause. I'm getting so hot...
"Put on the pads."
Master left a little box with three wires coming out of it on top of the stool. Also a simple cloth belt, and a double-ended plastic tie. I put the belt around my waist and clip the box to it. I pull the plastic liners off the electrodes and stick them on my chest. I flip the switch on the box.
George:
Wow! He put on an EKG. A little box lights up on my telly, the lower left, showing a nice pattern -- the same, over and over, each accompanied by a soft beep from the telly. After a few seconds, a number appears next to it: 115.
"Put on your manacle." the voice -- his Master -- says.
He picks this double-ended plastic thing off the stool, loops it over his right wrist, and tugs it tight. Not coming off without a pair of scissors, and there's none in sight.
"Up."
The squirrel looks to the side, smiles at the camera there, then back front again. He puts one foot on the lower platform of the library stool. The stool went down about one inch. He brings the other foot up. Then the first foot onto the top of the stool, then the other.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. Rory is my slave -- at the moment. If I order him to commit suicide, the law will treat it the same as if I killed him myself. I have no desire to go to jail for slave abuse, so there will be a short delay. Only about two minutes. At Midnight, Rory's slave contract expires; he will be a free squirrel again. After that, he alone bears the legal responsibility for his choices."
The slave nods his head, but he looks a little sick.
The clock in the upper right corner ticks up: 11:59:47, 11:59:48... 11:59:58, 11:59:59, 12:00:00.
"Rory," the voice says, a little quieter, "You are now a free squirrel."
"Yes, Mas-- Damien. I am a free man." His voice is hesitant, and he looks even sicker.
"You may now choose for yourself. If you wish to go ahead with this, please put on your noose."
He brightens up a little. Then he reaches up, takes the noose, slips it over his head with the knot next to his left ear, and cinches the noose snug around his neck. When you wear a necktie that snug, it feels like it's choking you, even though you have no trouble breathing. I swallow, hard, in sympathy.
"Note that Rory can still change his mind. His hands are free, he can remove the noose and climb down if he wishes. Rory, do you want to change your mind?"
"No... Damien." The pause while he suppressed an almost automatic honorific, "Master," was noticeable.
"Then, if you would, please manacle yourself."
Rory:
There it is. Mas... Damien has asked me to take one more nearly irrevocable step. Once my hands are tied, I can't remove the noose. I'll be up here until I hang myself, or get tired and slip off. Oh, I suppose he could phone the hotel, and they would use their override key to come in and rescue me. But I know Damien wouldn't be that cruel.
"There's one more thing I would like you to do for me, Rory."
I don't trust my voice, but I nod.
"You've always been good at roleplaying, at pretending, right?"
I nod again.
"I want you to imagine my cock in your mouth, that you are giving me a blowjob."
That's easy. I smile, and form my lips around the shape of a wolf-cock -- the cock I love so well. I give it a couple of flicks with my tongue. I hear applause from the laptop. Yes. I wish I could actually have him in my mouth, but pretending... pretending isn't too bad.
"Then, if you go ahead with this, I want you to pretend you're sucking me, licking me, knowing I'm going to cum in your mouth."
"Yeff, Maf... Da-ien," I manage around the imaginary cock -- Damien's wolf-cock! -- in my mouth.
"Whenever you are ready..."
I pause a moment. Not in fear. That is long past. I just want to make sure I remember, to do everything right. When I hanged for Master's pleasure, I would pull my knees up until my toes barely brushed the chair, then he would remove it. That way there would be no drop to do any permanent damage. But this time... this time it doesn't matter if something gets crushed. I'm not going to wake up after this one. What's important is putting on a good show, and the drop is part of that.
I take a moment to rehearse it in my mind, then I give a little jump off the stool. There's some slack in the rope, so I fall nearly a foot. The noose jerks tight around my neck! I feel some cartilage give way, it hurts some. The noose crushing my neck hurts more. And I can't breathe. But the feel of Damien filling my mouth -- even pretend -- gives me a little comfort.
I give the stool a little shove with my left foot. It rolls away a couple of feet, completely out of reach. Now I can kick, struggle, suck the imaginary cock in my mouth, and dance the dance of desperation, dance my life away. I thought I was hot before, now the tingling in my nipples and my cock is almost unbearable.
George:
Wow! He did it! The squirrel jumped off the stool. He dropped almost a foot, and that sudden stop! Wow! That's gotta hurt! Let's see...applause...Click! Click! Click! He kicked that stool away, now he's dangling there. His head is tilted almost 60° to the right, and the rope is biting deep into his neck. I bet he can't breathe, not even a little! The number shot up to 125!
His paws are trembling a little... now twitching a little more... and there he goes, kicking, writhing in his bonds... Now it's almost like he's trying to run in mid-air! What a performance! Click! Click! And his lips are still shaped around an imaginary dong, his tongue doing a little dance between them.
He goes on for a while, kicking like that gradually less coordinated and even more frantic. What a dance! 130...
Now what? He's stopped kicking... Oh, he's got his cock between his thighs and he's rubbing them together...
Rory:
Need air... need it so much... Gonna... Need to... Once I cum, I won't have much left. Maybe 20 seconds, then I'll be out. That's when Damien lets me down. But this time he's not here. I'm just going to keep hanging. I'll lose consciousness and then... never breathe again. Mouth full of pretend-cock, love the feel and the taste of Damien's wolf-cock... Need to... Gonna... Knowing I'm going to hang here until I'm dead... Cumming! Cumming! Cumming so hard! I don't think I've ever cum this hard before.
George:
140... 145... His hips are thrusting forward, shooting his cum halfway across that big room! Click!
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Rory is cumming. And from his EKG trace, I'd say it's the most powerful one he's ever had. And that is good, because it is the last one he will ever have."
Too true! Applause: Click! Click! Click! Click! Oh, yes!
A last few drops of white, then the numbers start coming down a little... 140...135...130... staying steady at 130 as he starts kicking again. Random kicks, with brief pauses in between. He keeps that up...
I realize that I've been stroking my lynxhood while I watched him hang. I didn't even notice when I started. It's so hot... I slow down, I don't want to cum too soon.
The squirrel is slowing down a little, but those numbers... 135... 140...
"I believe that Rory is about to lose consciousness. How about a big round of applause while he can still hear it?"
Oh, yeah! He's earned it! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click!
Rory:
Everything's going red... getting dark... ringing in my ears... what's that? Applause, yes. Sounds louder than Rockefeller center. Wow! And pretend-Damien cumming in my mouth. Wolf-cum, my favorite taste, even better than lobster or champagne. All that for me. Love Damien... Love this... Going... dark...
George:
Wow! The way his mouth worked, it looked like he was trying to swallow semen. He can't, of course, not with that noose crushing his neck. He's almost stopped kicking now. Just little twitches of his legs, and every once in a while a foot will move a few inches. Really out of it, I'd say. But still alive, that trace on the left shows that.
- Up a little, but it's going to be a while yet. I go into the other room and get out my Fleshlight. A little lube... and back to the telly, watching the squirrel hang. I stroke myself slowly, it's really nice in the Fleshlight.
Damien:
I've been watching the counts as well as Rory's performance. People have been logging out since he lost consciousness. Not surprising -- the stream charges by the minute. But over a third are sticking it out: obviously waiting for Rory to die. He is really giving his all for me and for this audience. From the reactions -- timing of applause and such -- I'd guess at least a quarter of the watchers are subs. Wonder if any of them will apply to be my slave...
George:
It's been a while, but the numbers are starting to climb again. 140...145...150...160... 170...180. His heart must really be hammering hard as he runs out of air... The trace is starting to change, there's an occasional funny blip in it. Wonder what that means...
190... That one had two blips in it... and again. 200... beeping real fast, almost like the Sword Dance. And three blips... and... it's going crazy. No more pattern, just jiggling up and down at random. No, there's the pattern again... and again... but the numbers are gone. And jiggling again. Beeping like a horn player with no sense of rhythm. There, his feet kicked funny, not like anything he did before. And... beeeeeeeeeee..... zero.
A few fast strokes and... Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Wow! I haven't cum that hard since the first time my first boyfriend -- a ferret -- gave me a blowjob. Maybe not even then.
"Ladies and gentlemen. It's over. Rory's heart has stopped. He is dead. I imagine his brain is gone, too, but I'll leave him up until 1AM before I call the hotel, just to make sure."
Panting hard... Time to go to bed. But first... I click the "gratuity" button and add a healthy tip. This was more and better than I'd expected, much more than was advertised. He's earned it. It'll put a crimp in my porn budget, but it's worth it for sure.
And.. disconnect.
Hey, wait! There's a new pop-up, thanking me for watching to the end. It says that for just a little more I can get a download of the whole thing, from start to finish. With DRM, but the rights granted are pretty liberal. "Just a little more..." Well, as a percentage of what I paid for the show, it's pretty small. In absolute terms, it's... not cheap. But 25% of my tip will count toward it. Or for still more... wheeee-oooo! I can get an autographed HD recording of it. And 2/3 of my tip counts toward that. Shite yes! I click to buy it. Free shipping is good enough, no need to pay for overnight.
Gonna have to make my own lunches for a while. But it's worth every penny.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Damien:
It's 12:35. Rory has been dead for about 15 minutes, and the last watcher has disconnected. I shut down the stream and look at the numbers. Then I whistle. Wow!
"Rory, I don't know if you can hear me wherever you are..."
Rory:
Drifting through a formless gray nowhere... Don't know where I am... I must be dead, the last thing I remember is hanging, fading out... I seem to hear a voice... Master's voice!
"...wherever you are. But you set a new record. You had more viewers than any snuff stream, ever. You pulled in the most money of any porn stream in history -- not just snuff, but even mainstream porn.
"You did good, Rory. Better than good. I salute you."
I feel warm inside, somehow. "Better than good." I've pleased Master one last time, more than ever before. And the taste of wolf-semen in my mouth seems real, now, not just pretend.
I find myself drifting onward toward... wherever I'm going. It doesn't matter. I feel so good.
Damien:
I slowly lower my hand to my side. I don't know why, but I get the feeling that Rory heard me. And the really strange thing... I haven't even cum, but I feel satisfied, as if Rory just gave me a really fantastic blowjob. What a sub! What an incredible slave he was!
I'll remember him for a long time.