Damien and Rufus at the House Party

Part 1

by A. P. Damien

The big tiger drove his liquid-blue Z4 down the road leading to the Gatsby mansion. Traffic was light out here near the point, so Damien was able to indulge his love of speed, tooling his BMW roadster around the curves fast, but never fast enough to make his tires squeal. He ignored the speed limit; Roxan would have paid off the West Egg police chief before hosting a party like this. The Irish Setter in the right-hand seat had his mouth open in stereotypical dog-fashion, enjoying the wind in his face.

The Z4 pulled smoothly up to the gatehouse, about two hours late. Damien showed the security guard his invitation, and the wolf pressed the button to open the gate. Damien stopped in front of the house. "Park the car and put the top up, it looks like it might rain. Then bring me the keys."

"Of course, Master. "

"I'm going to the grand ballroom first, then to inspect the slaves up for auction."

Rufus nodded and got out to open the door for his Master. He knelt in submission, got into the drivers seat, and drove away to park the car.

Damien got out and climbed the steps to the big front doors; he checked the map on his invitation, and headed for the Grand Ballroom. He grabbed a plate and ambled down the buffet, filling it with tasty snacks to fuel a large tiger for a night of sex. He wandered over to the bar and got an Irish coffee. By this time, most of the guests were in one of the playrooms or the naked rave, so there were plenty of tables. Damien took a chair at one.

Rufus came in a few minutes later, and handed the keys to Damien. The tiger smiled at him. "Good work. You may have a taste of me as a reward."

Rufus looked like a dog who has heard the dinner bell ring. He knelt down in front of Damien. The tiger unwound the cord from around his left wrist and draped it loosely around the setter's neck. Rufus parted the tiger's silk robe, leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around the tiger's cock. He worked slowly at first, then sped up a little as his Master became hard. Damien allowed Rufus to suck him for about a minute, then pulled the cord tight. Even without suction, the setter continued to pleasure his Master with his lips and tongue, but his motions gradually became uncoordinated. Damien released the cord, and waited while Rufus became lucid again.

"Thank you, Master. That was wonderful." A small damp spot on the setter's trousers showed just how much he appreciated it.

The tiger smiled. "I have four orders for you tonight. First, don't get yourself snuffed: I reserve that for myself. Second, don't get into anything too scary: if your pulse rate spikes, my beeper will go off and I'm going to come get you even if it means abandoning a sub in the middle of a snuff scene. Third, obey the warning signs around the pool. Fourth, have fun. Do you understand?"

"Absolutely, Master. Don't get myself snuffed or even frightened, obey the warning signs, have fun."

"Right. And that last_is_ an order."

"Yes, Master." The setter knelt briefly, then headed for the basement to undress.

A naked ferret a few seats away moved over to sit next to Damien. "Excuse me, Sir..." he began.

"Just Damien. 'Sir' is reserved for my slaves."

"Yes, Si... Damien. My name is Manuel. I couldn't help overhearing what you told your slave." The ferret paused, looking embarrassed.

Damien dismissed the implied eavesdropping with a wave of his hand. "Go on."

"Did I understand that you're into snuff, S...Damien?"

"That's right. But only willing victims."

"Then would you snuff me? I displeased my Master, and he ordered me to be dead before the party ends. Please?"

The tiger frowned. "Your master won't do you himself?"

"No, S...Damien. That's part of my punishment, that I have to die without my Master in me."

"I have a few things I want to look at, but I'll be happy to snuff you after that."

"Oh, thank you, Damien."

"If I'm going to snuff you, you may address me as 'sir,' Now, I'm going to check out some of the second-floor rooms, then I want to go down to the theater to check out the slave auction "

"May I come with you, then, Sir?"

"Sure, C'mon."

The two of them wandered upstairs and checked out the fetish rooms on the second floor. Damien made a mental note of the four that had nooses rigged. One even had a proper gallows with a trapdoor, tall enough for a longdrop if somebody wanted it. "Hmmm...?" he asked, nudging the ferret.

"Ummm.... okay," Manuel responded. But Damien noticed that the ferret didn't really look interested.

Too submissive to express his desires out loud. Damien thought. That's okay, I have lots of experience reading subs.

The next room they checked out had a simple chair under a noose, with a cleat on the wall to allow adjusting the height. Manuel gazed at the noose with obvious lust in his eyes. As Damien started to turn and leave, Manuel sank to his knees. "Sir... May I? Please?"

"Go ahead." Damien untied the rope around his waist.

Manuel pulled the robe open and looked at the tiger's massive sheath, with just a little bit of cockhead visible at the end.. He stroked it with his hands until the entire head projected from the sheath. Then he licked it until part of the shaft protruded. He stretched his mouth wide-open, then wrapped it around Damien's cock. He slid his lips up and down until the tiger's organ was very hard, then wrapped a hand around it and began sucking while his hand moved up and down the shaft.

The ferret kept this up until Damien began moaning, then he sped up, faster and faster and with more pressure, coaxing loader moans and finally "Yes, like that, just like that... please..." He sucked as fast as he could, and was rewarded with the first jet of tiger cum. He collected most of it in his mouth, then backed off and stroked the tiger, milking the last few jets of cum onto his lips.

After Damien stopped cumming, Manuel stood up and let the tiger see the cum on his lips. Then he licked them clean and swallowed everything. "Thank you," he said. He pulled Damien's robe closed and retied the rope-belt.

They checked out several other rooms, finding one with a power-hoist and one with five nooses suspended above a long bench. Manuel spent a while staring at that, imagining himself on that bench with four other subs, waiting for Damien to kick the bench over. His musings were interrupted by the closing bars of "He's a Tramp."

Damien grunted and pulled a phone from an inside pocket of his robe. He pressed a few buttons, thought a second, then pressed three more buttons. He closed up the phone and put it away.

---

Rufus took the stairs to the second floor two at a time. He wanted to see what delights might await there -- and who he might delight. He looked briefly in at the naked rave, but the music and the dim and uneven lighting didn't really feel comfortable. He was about to turn and leave when a lynx put a hand on his shoulder.

"You receiving?" the lynx asked.

"Yes, but not here... and not anonymously. This room is too much like sitting by a glory hole, waiting to suck whatever gets stuck through."

"Okay, I can sympathize. My name is Merle, and my secret identity is a DVR technician. I like meat, and my favorite food types are really hot: Ethiopian, Indian, Szechuan. I run LARPs in my spare time." Merle eyed Rufus's collar, a silver band with inlaid with mother-of-pearl and closed with a small, case-hardened padlock. "You're somebody's slave."

"Hi, Merle. I'm Rufus, and I'm an artist. I like to draw and sometimes paint. It doesn't make much money, but I get some commissions. And you're right, I'm Damien's slave and he supports me."

"Damien... that really big tiger?"

"Yes."

"And you're 'off the leash' tonight?"

"Yes. With a few limits."

"Okay. Wanna find another room?"

"Sure. Maybe someplace with jazz -- almost anything except that ultra-modern theoretical stuff."

"Suits."

They wandered down the hall and soon found a room where a small combo was playing Dixieland-style improv, not too loud. A glass-walled tank with a tilt-board stood in an alcove along a side wall. There were mattresses scattered around the floor and bondage frames of various shapes along the walls. A button next to the door was labeled "Press for drink service."

The lynx pushed the button. "Can I 'buy' you a drink?"

Rufus looked embarrassed. "I'm the sub, I'm suppo..."

"Not this time." The lynx shook his head. "I'm seducing you, so I get the drinks."

"Oh. Right. Raspberry margarita."

A liveried waiter showed up a few seconds later. "May I get you gentlefurs something?" Merle gave their orders, the waiter bowed about 10° and left. The lynx led Rufus to a mattress and sat down, patting the spot next to him. Rufus sat.

Merle patted the setter's cheek. "A strange mix of submissive and assertive. I think I like you."

"And I like you. You smell so nice." Rufus turned his face to the lynx. Merle took the hint, put his hand behind the setter's head and kissed him gently. And discovered that he really liked the dog's scent. He kissed harder, and Rufus cooperated.

They were still busy when the waiter returned. He stood there until Merle noticed him. "Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to keep you waiting."

"Quite all right, Mr. Rupertson. We live to serve."

"Thank you." Merle reached up, took the margarita and handed it to Rufus. Then he took the shot of Blanton's and sipped it. "Aaah!" He offered it to Rufus, who took a sip.

"Rather strong for my taste, but it smells wonderful."

"So it does. Nearly as wonderful as you."

"Flatterer!"

Merle laughed. "Not a bit of it. I wonder if your artwork is as hawt as you are. Is it online somewhere?" The lynx started to get his phone out of the holster strapped to his ankle.

"Here." Rufus opened his sporran and pulled out an iPad. He pushed two buttons and showed it to Merle. "Just touch that arrow to advance the slideshow."

Merle did, whistling softly at some of the drawings. He paused and stared at one of a fox, dangling in a noose, hands loose at his sides, unconscious or dead, semen dripping from the corner of his mouth and the tip of his cock. "Wow! Say... that one won a Dolcie, didn't it?"

"Yes," the setter said softly. "It's really about me. That's the way I hope to end up, when Master Damien is done with me."

Merle studied it more, then bent over to kiss the setter's nipples. This led to a brief wrestling match, which ended with Merle in a full nelson he couldn't break out of. The setter tapped out.

"Okay, okay, you win. You get to kiss me wherever you want." Rufus kissed the dog's nipples until Merle was writhing in unsatisfied pleasure. Then he stopped, abruptly. "So, tell me about some of your LARPs," the setter demanded.

Merle told a couple of stories, one from a mostly political Steampunk game that had Rufus roaring in laughter, and a second from a vampire-themed game where the NPCs gradually seduced the players into a real-life orgy. That one left Rufus gasping from a mixture of laughter and sexual excitement. They started kissing again, their hands roaming over each other's bodies.

When they were both panting with desire, Merle turned Rufus to face the tank. "Care to try it?"

The setter's face lit up, then fell. "Master ordered me not to get snuffed... or even frightened."

"Well, I wouldn't want you to disobey him." Merle paused, thinking. "How about this? You get into the tank, hyperventilate, and then blow me underwater. If you stop sucking or accidentally inhale a lungful of water, I'll let you up. If you succeed, you get a reward. If you fail, you pay a forfeit."

"What's the forfeit?"

"Spend the next three hours pleasuring me any way I like."

"Just a sec." Rufus pushed some buttons on his tablet and waited. In less than a minute, the tablet played "Hold the Tiger". Rufus looked, smiled, and said, "You're on!"

Merle led Rufus into the alcove. As soon as they entered, the lights came on and four beeps sounded in the room. The combo turned to see what was going on, but kept playing. The water in the tank was about chest height; the lynx and setter climbed in and Rufus began breathing deep and fast.

"Could we have a couple of volunteers to help out here?" Merle called out. Several furs stood up.

"What do we need to do?" asked a gerbil.

"Rufus, here, is going to give me a blowjob underwater. You need to hold his head under until I cum in his mouth or until breathes he water and starts coughing."

A couple of furs sat down. Merle picked the two strongest looking of the remaining five: an oryx and a brown bear. They climbed into the tank and stood behind Rufus.

By this time, Rufus was ready. He submerged and started sucking lynx dick. He worked slowly at first, getting Merle's cock used to the feel of his mouth. Then he sped up, sucking and licking for all he was worth. But the lynx didn't cum.What's happening? Rufus thought, _I'm an expert at giving oral pleasure. I can make a blowjob last for most of an hour of steadily increasing pleasure, or bring a male or female off in less than two minutes. I'm sure I'm doing everything right. Why isn't he cumming? _

Rufus continued sucking the lynx. There was nothing else to do: if he wanted to breathe again he_had_ to make Merle cum. But it was getting harder to hold his breath. He worked desperately. Please, PLEASE, PLEASE cum in my mouth and let me breathe!

Rufus let some bubbles out of his mouth to ease the need in his chest. It worked for a few seconds. Then he had to let more out.

Then it was too much. Rufus just needed to breathe. He tried to stand up, but two big furs were pushing down on his shoulders, and Merle had hold of his head. He struggled, pushed with all the strength in his legs. But his head was still under water.

Then Merle grabbed the setter's head with both hands and moved it up and down. Rufus sensed that the lynx was almost there, and he compressed his lips around the lynx-cock and tongued the underside for all he was worth.Please cum... please cum!.

And, at last, Rufus was rewarded with the taste of semen. Pulse after pulse of lynx-cum filled his mouth. He swallowed convulsively, trying to avoid breathing in the water all around him. The rest of his air bubbled out, uncontrolled. And then the hands on his shoulders let go, and the hands around his head were pulling him up, up into the air. He breathed in convulsively, then out, then in again, gasping, panting.Air. Blessed air. It was so good to breathe again. You never know how good air is until you can't get it.

As soon as Rufus got his breathing under control, the lynx pulled him close and kissed him. "I'm sorry to have taken so long," he said quietly. "I'm a bit of a sadist, and I just couldn't quite get over the hump until you were right at the point of drowning."

"That's okay." Rufus paused to pant a few more times. "I enjoyed it, actually."

The lynx looked down at the setter's erection. "Yeah, I guess you did. Well, you won the bet, so now you get your reward." He turned to the oryx and the bear. "C'mon guys, help me with this puppy."

The three of them picked Rufus up and carried him to a stretch of floor between two bondage frames. Merle dragged over a mattress and they laid Rufus on it. Then they tied his hands together and stretched the rope to one bondage frame. Another rope went around the setter's ankles and to the other frame. Rufus was stretched out, helpless. subject to anything the lynx wanted to do to him.

He found that he didn't mind. He trusted the lynx.

Merle lay down between the setter's legs and wrapped a hand around Rufus's cock.

"Hey! I'm a bottom. You don't have to do that. Just use me, that's all the pleasure I need."

"You're right. I don't_have_ to do this. But I want to. I like giving oral almost as much as getting it, and right now I feel like sucking a red setter."

"Well..."

Merle wrapped his mouth around the setter's cock and started demonstrating his own oral skills.

---

Damien went downstairs with the ferret in tow. He walked down the aisle and looked at the cage of slaves-to-be. He mentally dismissed the ones who were high on drugs, and the ones whose will had been broken. They might be volunteers in every sense of the word, but they couldn't give the kind of meaningful consent he demanded. Also the ones with recent whip or burn marks -- almost certainly forced into "volunteering".

That left seven. He looked them over closely. Five of them flinched when they took in the noose at his waist. One looked at it like it was his last hope of escape. Damien didn't want any would-be suicides. He wanted a slave who would happily serve him and pleasure him for a few years before being snuffed. That left a wolverine who stared at him defiantly, as if daring Damien to hang her. Hmmm... Was she serious? Damien held his hand above his head, holding an imaginary rope. He jerked upward, tilting his head to one side and letting his tongue protrude slightly. A "hanged by the neck until dead" gesture. She stared at him, then shook her head, just a tiny little movement, but he caught it.

"Nada," he murmured.

"I hear there's a procession going around getting people to volunteer," Manuel said, "Maybe if you come back in a couple of hours, you'll find what you're looking for."

"Good idea."

"C'mon," Damien told the ferret, "Things are about to get strenuous. Let's go fuel up."

The two of them headed downstairs. They were almost at the ground floor when there was a loud siren noise from inside Damien's robe. He pulled out his phone, looked at it, and pushed two buttons. Then he put it back in his inside pocket.

Manuel looked at Damien, a question on his face.

"My slave is in distress. He warned me about it, so I set this to ignore for ninety seconds. If he's not okay again by then, you'll see what a sprinting tiger looks like."

But the alarm remained silent. They returned to the Grand Ballroom, and Damien collected a glass of aged port from the poured wines. "You see that waiter with the tray of cheeses?" he asked Manuel.

"Yes, sir."

"Go get two of every kind of sharp or strong-flavored cheese he has, and an equal number of neutral crackers. Then find us a table that's not too crowded."

"Yes, sir." Manuel grabbed a plate and walked off to intercept the waiter..

Damien headed for the raw bar. He put a selection of clams and oysters on a plate, and added a couple of Rocky Mountain oysters. He wasn't sure if they were from a feral or a slave, and didn't really much care. Turning to leave, he nearly bumped into a big lion -- a very big lion, barely a foot shorter than Damien. The sudden stop sloshed some of his port onto the floor.

"Sorry," Damien said, "I should have been looking where I was going."

"Not at all," the lion answered, "I wasn't paying attention either." He eyed Damien's plate. "May I join you for a quick bite?" he asked.

"Sure," Damien replied.

The lion grabbed a plate and started putting crab legs and other fresh seafood on it, while Damien looked around. He spotted Manuel standing by an empty table, waving. He touched the lion, who turned to look. Damien pointed, the lion nodded.

Damien went to the table and sat down. Manuel put the plate of cheeses in front of him, then knelt by his side. "Nonsense!" the tiger said, "Have a chair."

The ferret sat down next to him, and Damien put the plate between them. He took a slice of crumbly sharp cheddar on a cracker. "Here," he said, handing it to the ferret, "Have a bite of that, then a sip of this port."

Manuel did as instructed, and his face lit up. "Yum."

"Yep. Look around. See anything you like more than raw bar?"

The ferret turned his head to look around. "Ah... yes, I think I do."

"Fine. Fill up a plate with your favorites, then get one more of each of these cheeses and crackers to go with. Go!"Whap! The tiger slapped Manuel on his naked rump.

The ferret took off at a run for the BBQ station. He came back at a fast walk with a plate full of meat and another plate of cheese and crackers. By the time he got there, the lion was sitting next to Damien with a plate of cooked shellfish: clams casino, crab Chinese style with ginger and onions, lobster thermidor, etc.

"Good, now get another glass of this port."

"Yessir!" Manuel ran to the wine station and brought back another glass of fine port. Damien patted the chair and the ferret sat down. "Pulled pork and rare steak. Excellent choices." Manuel blushed slightly at the praise.

They sat, eating meat and shellfish and chatting about the food, the entertainment -- especially the planned fireworks show but also the rave and other entertainment. After they'd finished the meats, they nibbled cheese and crackers, alternating with sips of port.

"Here, try some of this goat cheese. It's very strong, but there's a nutty component to the flavor. The slight sweetness of port really brings it out."

The ferret and lion both tried it, followed by smiles all around.

Eventually they reached the point where nobody felt like eating any more. The lion excused himself to go check up on his own submissives, leaving Damien and Manuel alone at the table.

Damien turned back to the ferret. " I want to tell you some stories before I take you downstairs and snuff you."

"Whatever Sir wants," the ferret said.

"I had one cat-girl who wanted a dramatic end. On her 30th birthday she knelt on the trapdoor. I put a noose around her neck, she gave me a really enthusiastic blowjob, then she feel seven feet and the sudden stop broke her neck." As before, Manuel's pupils contracted to pinpoints for a fraction of a second.

"And there was a wolf who volunteered to hang for me. He put a noose around his neck and climbed up on a stool. I tied the rope off, sucked him while he stood there, then took the stool away and finished him with my hand while he kicked and strangled. That was hot!" Damien noticed how the ferrets eyes widened and his breathing sped up at the thought of kicking his life away at the end of a rope.

"Uhh..."

"Go ahead. The reason I'm telling you these stories is so you'll get to know me a little bit. So if you have a question, ask it. And if there's anything special you want, feel free to ask for it."Except you won't tell me your desires out loud. Damien thought. But that's all right. I'm a tiger, a natural hunter. I can read every muscle in your body.

"Well... why did you finish him with your hand instead of your mouth?"

"If I'd stood close enough to blow him while he hanged, I'd have gotten some pretty bad bruises. He wouldn't want to hurt me, but the kicking is involuntary."

The ferret nodded.

"Then there was a slave who wanted to die slowly. I tied his hands, put a noose around his neck, and pulled him up on his toes. When his leg muscles started to give out, I lowered him onto the balls of his feet. After a couple of hours, even that was too hard for him, so I finally hoisted him into the air and let him hang and kick.

"Another time I had four slaves that were getting old. I sent them to my playroom. Then I strangled them with a silk cord, one after the other. All three of them came before they died, of course."

The ferret blushed slightly as Damien described garroting his discards.

"And one bushbaby wanted her body pristine for burial. I had a tilting board by the swimming pool. I used padded leather to strap her upper body to the board, then tilted it so her head was underwater and fucked her ass while she drowned. And one time I was visiting Santamos Island..."

"The country that allows consensual executions in public?"

"Yes. There was a dragon who'd 'won' the lottery, and the committee asked me to serve as executioner. I took him to the public gallows in the late afternoon. There was a line, a lot of furs wanted to see the sunset as they died. And that meant the viewing stands were almost full. When our turn came, he knelt on the trapdoor and I put the noose around his neck. Then he opened my robe and started sucking me."

"You made him give you a blowjob in public? In front of all those people?" But Damien noticed that Manuel had a bead of pre-cum on the tip of his now-very-hard cock.

"Yep. I hanged him when I started to cum. He dropped about three feet, so he ended up with a facial as he hanged. He put on a really great dance, too. He came just before he lost consciousness. His cum arced so far that a dugong in the front row got some on his muzzle; he smiled and licked it off."

"Wow!"

"Once I picked up a folf in a bar and brought him home. When he found out what I was into, he wanted to try it out. After a few days he wanted to go all the way. He stood on the trapdoor in my playroom. I tied his hands and put the noose around his neck. Then I lubed myself up. He raised his tail for me and I pushed into him, hard. He gasped in pleasure-pain, then said, 'Do me.' I grabbed his shoulders and hit the trap-release with my foot. He kicked for several minutes, and his tailstar clenched so tight around my cock that I thought I'd never be able to pull out. I blasted his prostate with my hot semen as his struggling slowed down, and he came instantly. He'd wanted a finality to his hanging, so once I was sure he was unconscious, I shifted my grip to his head and broke his neck."

And Damien noticed how Manuel's breathing sped up at the thought of being hanged and fucked, but flinched at the mention of a broken neck.

" Okay, end of story time. Do you have any other questions?" "No, Sir."

"I've decided how I want to snuff you. Go get the highest-ranking member of the house staff you can find. I want to make some special arrangements for you."

"Really? Wow!" The ferret ran off again.

He came back about fifteen minutes later, accompanied by a gemsbok in livery with some fancy decoration.

"Good evening, Mister..."

"Damien Tigerauge."

"Mr. Tigerauge. I am Lewin, First Assistant to Marchand, head of the house staff. I suppose you might call him the butler. I understand you want to make some sort of special arrangement?"

"Yes. Manuel, go get us some coffee..." Damien paused and looked at Lewin.

"Mocha latte, decaf, extra shot."

"Rocky Road ice blended for me. And whatever you want for yourself of course."

The ferret headed off to the coffee bar.

"So, Damien, what was it you wanted."

"I'm planning to snuff Manuel soon. Within the hour, I hope. And I'd like to do it with an audience. Do you have a room where I can do that?"

"I'm pretty sure we can. Jay's Amphitheatre should do nicely. Anything else?"

"A bed would be nice. Or a padded table. Something I can tie him to."

Lewin though a moment. "What were you planning on doing to him?"

"Put him face-down and fuck him from behind while I strangle him with a cord."

"I can get you a double bed with knobs, but would you consider a vertical bondage frame with padding? That way his front will be visible to the audience."

"What does the amphitheatre look like?"

"It's not quite 'theatre in the round'. The stage is only about one foot high, and the tiered seating makes a ¾ circle around it. It was originally the standard rows of seats, but it's been renovated. Now there's about 120° of seats that are like first class in an 747, but without the 'lie flat' option. The rest is padded chairs, loveseats, and sofas." Lewin opened his smartphone, pushed a few buttons, and showed Damien a photo.

"Hmmm..." Damien looked at it.

"Push this button to advance, this one to go back."

Damien paged through the photos. "With that setup, some people will be able to see Manuel's face and front but won't be able to see me penetrating him. Others will get a good view of the fucking, but a not-so-great view of his face. And some will just see my back."

"Will you take my word there won't be any problems with that?"

"Would you stake your life on that."

Lewin locked eyes with the tiger. "I would. And you be the judge."

"Okay, then."

Lewin took out a cell phone and speed dialed. "Lewin here. Mr. Tigerauge is planning a snuffing, and would like an audience... Yes, I thought the amphitheatre would do nicely. We'll need two tech staff. Yes, an announcement would be appropriate. And I believe Judge Woodham is here. Yes, I'll tell Mr. Tigerauge."

The gemsbok turned to Damien. There will be an announcement soon, and a judge to take care of the legalities. Shall we say..." Lewin glanced at the clock on the wall. "...11:30?"

The tiger nodded. "That would be fine."

Manuel arrived with the drinks. Lewin accepted his, took a first sip, said, "Aaah....," and left to make arrangements.

"So...?" the ferret said with a questioning tone.

"It's all arranged. Keep your ears open."

A few minutes later, loudspeakers crackled in most of the "open" rooms of the house. "May I have your attention please.... Damien Tigerauge, known to many as 'the master of gentle snuff,' will be snuffing a submissive in the amphitheatre at 11:30 tonight. Everybody is invited to watch. The amphitheater is at the north end of the upper basement. Consult the map on your invitation, or ask any member of the house staff for directions."

Manuel's eyes lit up, and he blushed so hard it showed through his fur. He turned to Damien with tears in his eyes. "You're going to snuff me in front of an audience? All those furs to watch me die?"

Damien nodded.

"Oh, thank you, Sir!"

"De nada. Take your time, finish your mochaccino, and if there's any last flavor you want to taste, go get it."

The ferret drank his coffee/chocolate mixture, then went off and came back with a piece of Brazilian picanha, rare. He nibbled about half of it, then stood up, licking his lips. "I'm ready, Sir."

The tiger also stood. "C'mon, then. Let's go get you snuffed."

Damien led the way back to the foyer with Manuel on his left side, half a step behind. They walked down a staircase, and along a wide hallway. Damien's tiger-ears told him that they were being followed, but he didn't bother looking around. They came to a pair of Art Deco double doors, standing wide open.

Damien paused in the doorway to look around. The room was nearly half full. A billy goat and a beaver femme were doing a tumbling routine, naked, on the stage. The billy spotted Damien and paused for a moment to wave to Damien, balancing with his other hand on the beaver's left shoulder. She turned her head, smiled at Damien, then they resumed their routine. It wasn't quite conventional tumbling: sometimes she would wrap her mouth around his cock for a moment, then pull off with a sluuuurping sound. Or he would suck her nipple for a few seconds, or slip a hand between her legs to tease her with a finger on her clit.

There was a giant screen mounted above the stage, and it had a split screen, showing the couple from two different angles, about 120° apart. There was a walkway behind the top tier of seating area; Damien took Manuel by the hand and walked to the far end of the walkway. From every angle there was at least one screen visible, and each screen showed the on-stage action from two angles that were different from the direct view onto the stage.

The tiger and the ferret turned and walked the other direction. The same arrangement held everywhere in the 270° arc of seating. Damien smiled and led the ferret down the end side of the amphitheater, stopping just before they reached the stage. The tiger turned and saw that another few dozen partygoers had followed them to the amphitheatre and were now finding seats -- or in some cases, couples and threesomes were cuddling up on the loveseats and sofas.

The goat and beaver brought their act to a smooth ending. The audience applauded and they bowed, then came over to Damien and Manuel. Each of them in turn gave Damien a hug and a kiss, then the same for Manuel.

"Thank you for warming up the audience," the tiger said.

"It was our pleasure," the beaver said. "We're house-staff. This is our hobby; we don't often get to perform for anybody but the other staff. But Marchand thought it would be good to keep the guests entertained while they waited for you to show up."

"And we get a bonus," the goat said. "Marchand is giving us a half-hour break. So I can make Corrie scream in ecstasy."

"And I'll get Darren's cream."

Somebody in the audience started chanting "DAYM-yin! DAYM-yin!" Soon a second voice took it up, then a third.

Damien reached out, hesitated a moment, then groped the beaver. She smiled and kissed him again, then the couple went out a side door. By this time the entire audience was chanting his name: "DAYM-yin! DAYM-yin!"

Damien helped Manuel onto the stage, then followed. The tiger held up his hands for quiet, and the chanting stopped. "Instead of chanting for me, why don't you chant for Manuel here? He's the one giving up his life for your entertainment!"

"MAN-well! MAN-well!" A few voices, then within seconds the whole audience was standing on its feet, clapping in rhythm and chanting "MAN-well!" The ferret's face turned bright red, but he smiled and bowed to the audience. When the chanting had died down, Damien undid the tie at his waist and shed his robe, folding it up neatly and laying it at next to the steps. He pulled off his Uggs slippers and his boxers, leaving them next to the robe.

He went over to the bondage frame and checked over the padding: it was thick and soft, very comfortable, with a smooth, supple leather covering. The straps were less thick but looked even stronger. Damien took one in his hands and tugged; it gave slightly. He pulled harder, then with all his strength. The strap stretched about ¼" but showed no sign of tearing. It would hold.

He beckoned the ferret over. "Climb up three rungs."

Manuel did as he was told. Damien checked; the height was perfect. He strapped Manuel's hands to the frame above his head. "Try them."

The ferret wiggled and strained, but could not move his hands. "What about the rest of me, Sir?"

"Trust me, you won't be going anywhere."

"I trust you, Sir." A simple declaration of total trust in Damien for the last experience of the ferret's life.

"Over here." Damien looked around. Lewin had whispered just loud enough to be heard. The gemsbok was pointing to a serious-looking roe-deer stag standing next to him.

"The judge," Damien mouthed silently.Lewin nodded. Damien beckoned, and the stag climbed up on stage, Lewin following. The gemsbok held up his hands, and the audience, already quiet, became silent.

"Welcome to the amphitheater, everybody. My name is Lewin, and I'm the assistant head of staff here at Gatsby Manor. For those who don't already know him, I'd like to introduce Judge Woodham."

There was a brief round of applause. The judge hit an imaginary desk with an imaginary gavel, and everybody quieted down again. He turned to Manuel. "Do you, Manuel Hurón, wish to be snuffed by this tiger?"

"Yes, I do," the ferret replied.

"And you, Damien Tigerauge, agree to snuff this ferret?"

"I do."

"Then as Chief Jurist of this county, I deem this ferret's death a suicide. You may proceed."

Lewin and the stag walked off the stage and took seats.

Damien walked around in front of Manuel and kissed him. The ferret groaned and returned the kiss. They explored each other's mouths for a minute, then Damien bent down to tongue the ferret's nipples. He kept it up until Manuel started keening, high and shrill.

Damien raised his head and gently nipped the ferret's ear, then a little harder until he tasted a little blood. He reached down and took Manuel's cock between his hands. He squeezed it, again and again until the ferret was rock hard. Then he rolled it between his hands until Manuel begged for more. The tiger bent down, took it in his mouth, and sucked it in and out a few times. The tiger stood up and whispered to the ferret, "Describe your Master."

"He's a Margay, 5'6", 170 pounds, blonde headfur. Wears a 3" wide russet leather belt even when otherwise naked."

The tiger looked at the audience, then whispered, "He's here. Top row on the right, cuddled in a loveseat with a 5'4" okapi male."

"Thank you, Sir. Thank you so much! It means a lot, knowing he's here watching me die."

"What do you say we make him so hot he has to get laid right now?"

"Oh, yes, Sir!"

"I'm going to ask you questions. Answer so the audience can hear."

The ferret nodded.

Damien raised his voice. "Who's been a bad boy?"

"I have, Sir," Manuel answered.

"And who has to be punished?"

"I do, Sir."

"And what is your punishment?"

"Master ordered me to die tonight."

"And what else?"

"I have to die without his touch on my fur, without feeling him inside me, without his hands putting the noose around my neck. I have to die without Master." The last sentence was almost a wail.

"And who is a snuff slut?"

"I... I am, Sir."

"And who is going to get snuffed right here, with all these furs watching?"

"I am, Sir."

"That's right. You are to going get fucked here, on this stage, with dozens of furs watching. You are going to feel my tiger-cock in your tailhole. You are going to feel the humiliation of having a stranger, a tiger you never met before tonight, cum deep inside you with this audience watching. And you're going to die, here on this stage, with a cord pulled tight around your neck, just to entertain these furs."

"Yes, Sir. I'm going to feel all those things. I'm going to be snuffed for your enjoyment and for theirs."

"That's right. And you are going to lift your tail for me, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sir. I will lift my tail for you, even though you aren't my Master and you don't love me the way my Master did before I was a bad ferret."

Damien leaned in and whispered. "That did it. Your Master grabbed that Okapi and pulled his head down. He's starting to give your master a slow, sensuous blowjob."

"I can't thank you enough," Manuel whispered back. "Even though Master won't give me the honor of snuffing me himself, it's a comfort to know that my death is making him so hot he has to get laid right here where everybody can see. And to know that, even with me dead and gone, he has somebody to take care of his needs."

"You're welcome," the tiger whispered. Then he walked around behind the ferret. He held out a hand, and a footman tossed him a squeeze bottle. He spread some on his cock, then pressed his body up against Manuel's. He took part of the ferret's neck between his jaws and bit down, like a tiger getting ready to mate with a tigress. He didn't draw blood, but it was a reminder: the mustelids are classified as carnivores in the Linnaean system, but to a 220 Kg tiger, a ferret is just prey.

Manuel moved his tail submissively out of the way, and Damien spread more lube on and in the ferret's tailhole. He pressed his erection against the ferret's pucker, slowly spreading the sphincter open and pushing his way in. Manuel sighed, a quiet "aaah..."

The audience was able to watch this from all angles: Damien's cock sliding into the ferret, the ferret's erect cock, already showing a drop of pre, and his face as he felt his backdoor forced open.

Damien untied the silk cord from his left wrist and looped it around the ferret's neck, then wrapped the ends around his hands.

"Please," Manuel said, loud enough for the audience to hear.

"Take a deep breath," Damien told him, "This is your very last sex, you'll want to last long enough to enjoy it."

"Yes." The ferret did as he was told.

Damien pulled the cord, cutting off Manuel's breath. Then he began fucking the ferret, long, hard strokes. Manuel just took it for about twenty seconds, then started to struggle as the suffocated feeling hit him. But the tiger just leaned against him, using his weight and strength to press the ferret against the bondage frame. Manuel squirmed, but was unable to move more than an inch. Damien's hips kept moving him in and out of Manuel's tailhole while the rest of his body kept the ferret pinned to the frame.

With the cord tight around Manuel's neck, it took only a few minutes. The giant TV screens showed the changes in his face: smiling at first, then gradually desperate for breath, then fear as the reality reached his subconscious: that he would never breathe again. Then a gradual relaxation as the ferret's movements became weaker.

The ferret's movements changed. His hips began moving, thrusting back to help drive the tiger into him. His face showed lust and a different need -- the need to cum. His mouth opened in a soundless cry of pleasure as his cum spurted... and again and again.

Damien slowed down, drawing out his own pleasure. Then he sensed that Manuel's consciousness was fading. He slammed deep into the ferret as Manuel's tailhole tightened convulsively around his cock. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" the tiger shouted as he came deep inside the ferret. Damien held that position while the light slowly faded from his victim's eyes and Manuel's muscles relaxed. With his body pinning the ferret to the frame, he could feel his prey's heartbeat, desperately hammering, trying to get oxygen to Manuel's brain, then the skipped beat. Another skipped beat a few seconds later.. and another... and another and then nothing -- full stop.

The tiger held the cord tight for another minute, just to be sure, then withdrew and turned to face the audience. They came to their feet, applauding. Damien bowed once, then held up his hands for quiet.

"You should be applauding Manuel," he told them, "He was young, but he gave up all the rest of his life, all the sex he could have enjoyed, the cubs he might have had someday, for your enjoyment and to obey his master's command. So give it up for Manuel!"

The audience applauded louder than before. Damien went over and put a heavy paw on the ferret's body, to remind them who deserved their praise.

When the applause finally died down and the audience began heading for the door, the liveried footman came down to the stage. "We'll take care of the body, Mr. Tigerauge. Any instructions?"

Damien looked at the margay in the top row, but a languid hand wave yielded the question back to the tiger.

"I'd like his head for my trophy room, do what you like with the rest."

"Of course, Mr. Tigerauge."

Damien returned to the Grand Ballroom to refuel. He was setting a plate of deli on a table when a lobo came up to him, bowed, and set a glass of champagne on the table in front of him.

"Yes?" Damien asked.

"Mr. Ti..."

"Just Damien," the tiger interrupted.

"Damien. I don't want to be snuffed tonight, but I would be greatly honored -- and pleasured -- if you would take me to one of the special rooms and hang me until I am unconscious."

"I need to refuel, then rest for an hour or so."

"Of course," the lobo said. Damien gestured, and the lobo took a seat at the table.

[Note: Rufus, Merle, Lewin, Marchand, Judge Woodham, and the unnamed lobo (gray wolf) are now available as NPCs.]