“Are you sure you want to do this, little buddy?” Chance asked, concern dripping from his voice.

	Jake nodded, setting the last adjustments to the camera and checking to make sure it functioned correctly. “I've been having fantasies about this for a long time, now, and I think it's time I indulge in them.”

	Chance still wasn't sure. “But what if something goes wrong? I don't want to lose you...”

	Jake smiled and walked over to the worried tabby, bringing his hand up to stroke his masked face lovingly. “As long as it gives you pleasure, hon, you'll never lose me. Just do what we practiced, and everything should be fine, alright?”

	“But...”

	“Chance, this is what I want. And if you know anything about me, I can't be denied this. And besides, if you've read my will, you know you'd be doing this for me, anyway.” He kissed the tabby on the lips, murring happily at the thought of what was to come.

	Chance kissed back, smiling nervously. “You know, when I married you, I never knew you'd be so kinky. Is there any fetish you're not into?”

	The dark tom shook his head and ground his body against the tabby's, growing harder at the sensation. “Nope. I'm just lucky I got someone who's able and willing to indulge me, every now and then, even if it's not something he personally enjoys.”

	“Love must make sacrifices to endure,” Chance agreed, frowning a bit. “But I'm still not sure about this. One wrong move, and it's all over.”

	Jake chuckled and rubbed harder against his lover. “Flatterer, you're just making me harder. I want to do this, I want to go all the way, and if all works out well, you can revive me in about a half hour. Just be sure to have some fun with my body before you do, though, okay?”

	Chance shook his head and sighed, his cock ironically growing just as hard at the thought as Jake was. He had to admit, he was growing hot over the idea; ever since he started dating Jake, he had indulged the tom in several unusual and downright unsavory fetishes, from watersports and bondange/domination to bloodplay and mutilation, and each time the kat was able to get off hard and long to the abuse. He seemed to be the perfect masochist, eagerly taking whatever he forced Chance to give him, and there were several times Chance had caught him inflicting pain on himself as part of his masturbation sessions. Fortunately, any cuts, bruises or other damage he had inflicted upon him was easily patched up by their in-home medical equipment, and was explained away as either accidents at the junkyard for the public, or old wounds from their time as the Swat Kats to their allies. But now, this was different; this was pure snuff play, something that even Chance was starting to get antsy about. 

	The plan was simple: Chance would bind Jake up and tape a plastic bag over his head, raping the poor kat as he suffocated. He wasn't to take the bag off until Jake had at the very least fallen unconscious from the lack of air, and should he actually die from the suffocation, Chance was to continue fucking his body for a good half-hour before trying to revive him, so he could get the full experience of being used even unto death as a fuck toy. It was something Jake had been wanting to do for a long time; it started as dreams, fantasies of being smothered during sex, of feeling his last breaths slip from his lungs as he was being fucked, of Chance staring down at him with sadistic lust and a slasher's grin on his face as he strangled him during their lovemaking. When he admitted his dreams to Chance, the tabby was horrified, especially after he learned Jake had grown hard and had started pawing off to them. But, as was the nature of their sex life, Chance was eventually talked into experimenting with breathplay, first with the classic ass-smothering they've been doing long before then, then with various other techniques, including pure strangulation. During all of those attempts, though, they always stopped before Jake could succumb to asphyxiation, but now...now Jake wanted to go all the way, to feel what it was like to actually truly suffocate. Naturally concerned, Chance attempted to talk his mate out of it, but he learned very early in their relationship that when Jake wanted to test a new fetish, no matter how extreme, he would not be denied.

	Sighing, Chance reached down and groped their hard cocks together, moaning gently at the feeling. He thought back to what Jake said, about this being in his will, and he remembered what he meant, growing harder at the memory; Jake, kinky bastard that he was, was so much of a slut, he specifically requested that his body be used for sex even after death. It was a request Chance could never fathom, but if it made his mate happy – to be fucked hard and rough and abused endlessly even after the end – he loved him too much to refuse him his wish. To be honest, he himself had gained a sort of curiosity to the idea, wondering what it would be like to fuck his dead mate in his lifeless ass or mouth, to suck off his rigored cock and drain him of his dying seed. He would never admit it to Jake, of course, for fear of encouraging him, but he did wonder...

	“Alright, Jake, if this is what you want, I guess I can't talk you out of it. Just don't expect this to be a constant thing, if you survive it.” With that, Chance grabbed a roll of duct tape and pulled out a long strip, getting ready to bind the kat's hands behind his back.

	Jake smiled and nodded, turning his back to his lover and moving his hands behind him, ready to be bound. “Oh, don't worry, hon. If this goes well, we'll either try other ways of extreme breathplay, or you'll have a useless fuck toy to play around with.” That last part he said with a wink and a wicked smile, as if he was hoping for things to go bad.

	Half-smiling, half-frowning, Chance shook his head and started taping up Jake's wrists, trying to ignore the soft moans coming from his partner as he secured his hands behind his back. It was always bizarre for the tabby to indulge his mate in another extreme fetish; it all started shortly after they became the Swat Kats, with a request by Jake to tie him up and rape him hard. Chance, not being the kinkiest of kats, at first refused, but several days of pestering finally got to him, and he relented. From there, whenever Jake had a new fetish he wanted to try out, he'd always bug the tabby to do it to him, and no matter how much he protested, Jake eventually won their debate. Now, there was very little that they were into, and the stuff they weren't into were so criminal, so dangerous, Chance flat-out refused...though he knew, eventually, he'd have to relent to those, as well. In fact, more than once he questioned Jake's sanity over the kinks, wondering how he managed to enter the Enforcers with what was clearly an extreme case of clinical paraphilia. Each and every time, Jake just shrugged and said the same two things: he was excellent in hiding his sexuality when it really counted, and he seduced the psychiatrist doing the mental evaluation on him into giving him a clean bill of health.

	As he finished taping up his mate's wrists and readied the bag that will go over Jake's head, Chance once again had to rethink what he was doing; here he was, ready to snuff his best friend and mate on his request. For anyone else, they would turn themselves into the authorities. But for Chance, who regularly abused Jake on his request, using him as a fuck toy, punching bag, and toilet, all with a forced smile and a loving kiss, it was just another day for him. Knowing he wouldn't be able to talk Jake out of it, he just tore off another strip of tape and, with a sigh, slipped the plastic bag over the kat's head. Jake gasped in anticipation as he felt the smooth plastic slide around his head, breathing in as deeply as he could to form a vacuum and seal the bag tightly around his head. At that instant, Chance cinched the mouth of the bag tightly around Jake's neck and wrapped the strip of tape around it, forming a seal that would keep Jake's air supply limited. Once he felt the bag secured around his head, Jake took a few tentative breaths, his cock already dribbling precum from the sensation. With another deep breath, he leaned over, lifting his tail for his mate to fuck him.

	Chance sighed as he started stroking himself off, his cock already hard despite his concerns. Steeling himself, he grabbed Jake's hips, spread his ass, and, positioning his long, thick 12-inch by 3 inch cock against the kat's hole, thrust forward. Jake gasped as the thick, long invader penetrated his anus, the plastic around his face tightening around his muzzle. As he entered his lover, Chance felt an uneasy squishiness forcing itself around his cock, a thick, chunky, gelatinous lump that filled Jake's tailhole and was now squirting out around the thick intruder. Realizing what it was, Chance murred despite himself and almost failed to resist the urge to hilt himself in his friend, right then and there; among the other things Jake was willing to be for his partner – friend, lover, wingman, fuck toy, and whipping boy – he soon added “toilet” to that classification, talking Chance into going along with a bit of piss and scat play. It wasn't much, at first, just some marking and ass-to-mouth fucking, but as with all fetishes between them, it grew until Chance was able to use his mate as a full-on sewer system, pissing and shitting in every hole of his and on every inch of his body. They had even whipped up a deal that, at every chance they had, when they were alone, Chance would only use Jake as a toilet whenever he needed to go. As for Jake... being the dutiful little fuck slave, he swore that his excrements were only for the pleasure of himself and his mate, which meant he would only relieve himself when Chance allowed him to. Over time, the smell and taste and texture of the scat was too intoxicating for Chance to ignore, any longer, and finally confessed that it was one of his favorite fetishes they've done.

	Now, as he felt what was quite obviously Jake's anal load encompassing his cock as he eased it in inch by agonizing inch, his past worries about this started to wash away, replaced by unnervingly kinky thoughts about what he'd do to the poor tabby, when he's rendered limp by the experience.