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Holding Out for a Lion

Mackie's Bar & Pizzeria was known for two things: An excellent selection of microbrewed craft beers from across the world, and an excellent selection of single fathers. The pizza was… fine. Certainly good enough to ensure that your kids wouldn't complain to your estranged wife and, while they enjoyed their meal of greasy pepperoni and cheese pizza, you could enjoy a much-needed and really good beer. Thus, the regulars at Mackie's were used to seeing two kinds of customers – the aforementioned divorced dads who had the kids for the weekend and needed to feed them, and serious beer-snobs who enjoyed spending half an hour thoughtfully sipping a bottle of something criminally overpriced.

On this fine summer day, plenty of both were in appearance, including a particularly eye-catching lion with a dark-golden mane and the body of a Mr. Universe contestant, who'd been leaning on the bar for an hour already, sampling a few of its more exclusive, seasonal offerings – clearly part of the 'beer-snob' set. If anyone had gotten close enough, they might've heard him mumble to himself, "Nah… not quite the same…" – which would've probably struck them as rather strange, since he was holding a bottle of something called 'Fruits of Ur', with a rather busy label that eagerly explained how it'd been brewed to replicate, as closely as possible, the kind of beer made in ancient Mesopotamia. But, the lion's sheer presence ensured that nobody, including the barkeep, was in any hurry to crowd him.

The newest customer to enter the shop, meanwhile, seemed to belong to the 'divorced dad' group. A somewhat harried-looking bat, shepherding along a trio of young girls, led by a stunningly beautiful white mink. Following along behind her was an energetic kitten, dragging a shy-looking raccoon-girl along by the paw. As family-units went, this was worth a second glance, but not much more than that – interspecies couples weren't terribly unusual these days, and it was common for them to adopt orphans from entirely different species. And, of course, there was no guarantee that the love that had overcome the boundaries between genus and clade would actually last, in the long run…

Soon, the trio was seated around a table, eagerly arguing about pizza-toppings, while the bat headed up to the bar to order himself a drink – no doubt much-needed. "Gimme… eh, whatever you'd recommend at a decent price…" he remarked tiredly as he slipped onto a barstool next to the lion. "And could ya send someone over to that table to take their order? Just… whatever they want." The barkeep nodded sympathetically – this was not, after all, an unusual sight, and while he hadn't met this tall bat before, he was always happy to welcome another regular-to-be.

"You always wind up with three in the end, huh?" A high-pitched voice whispered, with no apparent source, after the barkeep had handed the bat a tall mug of foamy beer and bustled off to make sure one of the waitresses were ready to swoop in once the three girls at the designated table finished their argument. "The raccoon is new, isn't she?" The bat nodded and sighed. "Yep. Ran into her on my last mission, and, well… one thing led to another." A sad smile creased his almost canine muzzle. "There was nobody else who could look after her afterwards. So, I took her in. My way of taking responsibility for what we do."

"My heart weeps for you, Bat…" the lion rumbled quietly, his voice a deep basso that was felt more than heard. "I assume you've got orders for me?" The bat nodded almost imperceptibly, and reached for his beer. The lion did the same. Somewhere along the way, a small thumb-drive passed from one paw to another, smoothly enough that even an alert observer wouldn't have been entirely certain anything actually happened. "Details are all there." the bat muttered as he drank deeply of his mug, creating a foam mustache on his muzzle that the girls back at the table would no doubt find extremely amusing once he got there.

"This better not be another homewrecking…" the high-pitched voice whispered. "He's sick of those, even if he won't say so." The lion coughed, lowering his bottle of expensive, faux-Babylonian beer. "I do what I must…" he rumbled, looking away – checking to see that the barkeep was still too far away to overhear, perhaps. The bat, for his part, smiled – glancing towards the top of the lion's magnificent mane. "Don't worry, Mouse…" he whispered. "He'll like this one, and so will you I think. It's the exact opposite of a homewrecking."

Without another word, he grabbed his mug and left the bar, heading back to the table where his three 'daughters' had just finished ordering a rather heavily-stacked pizza. Soon, they were laughing and clapping delightedly at the sight of his new mustache – and none who heard or saw this realized that anything whatsoever had passed between him and the lion at the bar. The lion, meanwhile, was looking thoughtfully down at his paw, within which the thumb-drive was concealed. "Opposite of homewrecking, huh?" He mumbled to himself. "Been a while since I last played construction-worker. I think I still have the hard-hat, though…" A slightly exasperated sigh could faintly be heard from somewhere near the top of his head.

---

Kian Badenhorst was feeling… acutely uncomfortable. Anxiety and determination were warring within his heart and mind, and a large part of him wanted to just… chicken out, and leave before anybody spotted him. Still… he'd never been one to back down from a challenge, had he? That determination had led him from South Africa to the USA, helped him earn a citizenship, and given him the drive to start his own company. It had won him the hand of his beautiful wife. And now… well, now, it was helping him test the realizations he'd come to, concerning himself.

With a shaky breath, he got out of the car. It was a rental – nondescript, kind of run down, not something he'd generally favor. His jacket was similarly shabby, if decent quality, as were the clothes beneath – the best he'd been able to find at the Goodwill-store. He wanted to be anonymous, but he didn't want anyone to mistake him for a bum, or anything like that! Hurriedly, he crossed the road, unable to resist looking around, just to see if anyone appeared to be watching him… stupid, he knew. If anything, acting so shifty was a good way to make people notice you! But… it was hard not to.

He hesitated once again outside the door, glancing up at the garish neon sign above. 'The Bear-Cave' – with a lovely little rainbow-flag right next to it. It had once been the city's most notorious gay bar but, these days, they didn't even have to try to hide it. If anyone who knew him saw him entering such a place, they might think… well, pretty much exactly what he thought, after belatedly realizing that his beautiful young wife was entirely failing to raise his ardor. A bit of online… research had seemingly confirmed his initial fears, but pictures on a screen was one thing, and reality another.

Drawing once again on the well of determination within his gut, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, forcing himself to stride confidently into the dimly-lit establishment, instead of freezing just inside the door like he kind of wanted to. Many eyes were resting on him as he stepped towards the bar. What did they see? A leopard of modest means, hopefully. It was probably too much to hope for that they wouldn't realize he was very much new to this kind of… scene. Well, either way, they probably wouldn't recognize him. Sure, his company had been doing well lately, his stock rising, but he'd done his best to keep a low profile, and only those in the 'industry' really knew him.

Trying his best to look like he belonged, he slid onto a barstool, and tried not to stare too openly at the barkeep – an impressively-muscled Doberman, wearing some extremely tight-looking leather pants, no shirt, and some eye-catching pink lipstick. "What can I get ya, spots?" The hound growled his voice matching his muscular physique much closer than his painted lips. "Uh… got any…" Kian started, before belatedly realizing that he had no idea what kind of drinks were actually served in a place like this. "…whatever's good?" he finished tamely, making the dog snort in amusement.

"Sure, I got some o' that…" he drawled, grabbing a somewhat cloudy-looking mug from a shelf and filling it with an unmarked tap. "Got everythin' you need, right here!" he declared as he slammed the mug down on the bar in front of Kian. "That'll be five bucks." Nodding jerkily, the leopard pulled out his wallet and an appropriate bill on the counter. Paying cash was just good sense. He'd done so at the Goodwill and the rental-agency too. The canine barkeep collected the money with a sigh, then leaned against the countertop as Kian sampled the beer, wincing slightly. It was… rather bad.

Covertly – or as covertly as he could – he inspected the room, using the wide mirror behind the bar. He was the only one sitting at the bar – his handsome, spotted fur mostly covered by the shabby-chic outfit. The rest of the place was half-full, with various furs and scales sitting at the tables around the room, nursing mugs of beer or just talking quietly. Most of them were, it seemed, still staring at him, with narrow-eyed, judging gazes. Some of them looked… interesting? It was hard to tell if he was really feeling any attraction, though. He was just too damn nervous.

"Hey… try to relax, spots…" the barkeep drawled, a note of pity in his voice. "Nobody's gonna bite, 'less you want 'em to. Folks may be payin' attention, but 's not 'cuz you're not welcome. They're just… considering you, y'know? Big cat like you's gonna draw some eyes." This made Kian perk up quite a bit. They were just staring because they found him… attractive? That wasn't a bad feeling. Not bad at all. Clearly, he'd picked his disguise well – this might all turn out well after all! Even if… he still wasn't entirely certain what 'turning out well' would really look like, for this particular expedition.

"Look… I'll level with ya…" the doberman remarked, leaning in closer to whisper conspiratorially. "We gets your sort comin' in here from time to time. There'll be some who don't like it, and they may send a scowl your way, but they won't do worse than that – just give 'em a wide berth. Plenty of others who'll be happy to see to whatever you need. Just… make sure they do it somewhere else, 'kay? I don't need trouble from the fuzz 'bout unsavory things happening in my bar." Kian blinked at this, trying to make sense of the knowing whisper. "My… sort?" He queried, confused. The dog snorted in amusement. "Yeah. The sort that tries to hide a gold-plated Rolex under the sleeve of a hundred-dollar suit, and pays five bucks for a dollar worth of beer without a second thought."

Blushing under his fur, Kian tried to surreptitiously adjust his left arm, while the barkeep chuckled. He'd forgotten all about that damn watch! "Aw, don't beat yerself up, spots…" the doberman drawled. "I've seen worse attempts at slummin' it, trust me! You put in the effort, at least. But, yeah, you're not foolin' anybody. Just… go ahead and finish your drink, get some courage in ya, then try'n mingle, eh? You'll get plenty of takers, trust me." Grimacing, the leopard tried to follow the advice – throwing back the mug of beer as quickly as possible, if only to minimize the sour taste in his mouth, then riding the resulting buzz out into the room.

The barkeep hadn't been joking. As soon as he was out among the tables, a steady stream of barflies started to approach him. A handsome young buck in a tight shirt, a cute rat-boy with shaggy headfur, a downright feminine rabbit with a cottony tail… all cozying up to him, whispering about how they'd happily do whatever he wanted them to, for very reasonable prices – with cheaper rates available for long-term relationships! Rent-boys, all of them, which was apparently what 'his type' came here to find. Meanwhile, the more formidable specimens – a bear, a bull, a rhino, a tiger, and several others – gave him looks of scorn and distaste.

This… wasn't what he'd wanted at all, he thought with growing dejection as he shooed away another one of them. But none of them seemed able to understand that, apparently just assuming that he was particularly picky, and presenting themselves with all the more ardor – eagerly whispering about how tight they were, how obedient and pliable they could be, how skilled their tongues. Meanwhile, the grumbling and scowling from those who weren't throwing themselves at him were only growing angrier – probably due to perceiving his behavior as some kind of arrogant "I'm too good for this dump!" attitude.

Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, confused and out of place, Kian swiftly retreated from among the tables and benches. His heart was beating fast, and not in a fun, aroused sort of way – rather, the part of him that had been wanting to chicken out and run away right from the start, was steadily getting bigger and more assertive. Clearly, this had all been a terrible mistake. He apparently didn't belong here, any more than he belonged in his wife's bed! His throat was clamping shut, his stomach felt like the pit had fallen out of it… he'd really believed that if he came here, to this place, everything would finally make sense…

Stumbling towards the door, eyes struggling to focus as he started hyperventilating, he tripped over his own feet – only stopped from falling flat on his face by the sudden appearance of a massive paw on his chest, arresting his forwards momentum with ease. "You okay there, friend? You look rather pale…" a deep voice rumbled nearby, making his ears twitch with its warm timbre. "Here, have a seat, and try to breathe deeply for a moment, won't you?" As Kian's vision cleared, he found that his slack body had been maneuvered down onto a barstool with practiced ease… and that he was sitting right next to the most magnificent creature he'd ever seen.

A lion, easily a head and change taller than him, with shoulders so wide they seemed capable of carrying the weight of the world if needs be. A sculpted physique beneath smooth, golden fur, a dark and imposing mane… he didn't look like a bodybuilder so much as a star athlete, perhaps a boxer or wrestler, or something else that the ancient Greeks might have made timeless marble statues of. He was also smiling gently down at Kian, his deep, brown eyes full of concern. "Need a drink to calm you down, maybe?" The lion speculated, rapping on the bar. "Hey, Cherry! Grab one of the good beers for this chap, will ya? He looks like he's about to have a heart-attack or something, and I don't think you want an ambulance parked out front any more than a cop-car…"

A bottle was pressed into Kian's paws, and he numbly drank a swallow from it – his incipient panic-attack now giving way to a sense of entrancement, as he struggled to pull his eyes away from the beautiful beast beside him before the lion noticed him staring. This beer was, indeed, a lot better, he dimly noticed – smooth and refreshing with a nice bite, it did wonders at drowning the butterflies that were suddenly fluttering around in his stomach. "Throwing newcomers to the sharks probably ain't the best way to get repeat customers, ya know…" the lion was saying, conversationally, to the doberman bartender with the pink lipstick. The narrow-faced dog shrugged apologetically. "I thought for sure he'd be mincing outta here with one or two of those boys in five minutes flat…" he mumbled, giving Kian a quick pat on the shoulder in passing. "Sorry 'bout that, spots. Guess I've kinda' forgotten what it's like to be a virgin! The beer's on the house – that fiver you gave me earlier just about covers it anyway."

Kian nodded jerkily, mumbling something along the lines of "Sfine, mokay…" before taking another much-needed draught of the cool, calming beer. The lion's paw was resting on his other shoulder now, warm and heavy, and it was somehow reviving the previously-drowned butterflies in his gut. "Hey… try not to think badly of the lads, eh friend?" The lion remarked, glancing past him at the various rent-boys who were now seated at their tables again, some of them throwing wistful or concerned glances over at the leopard at the bar. "They're not bad people, and they definitely didn't mean to crowd you like that… eh, lemme put it this way – did any of them say anything about cheaper rates for repeat customers or long-term arrangements, or that sort of thing?"

There was something about the lion's accent that was hard to pin down, Kian reflected as he nodded. "Yeah… all of them did, I think…" He'd had to work hard on getting rid of his accent after moving to the states from South Africa, so it was something he was kind of alert to. The lion sounded… ever so slightly foreign, but not in any way he could actually identify. Definitely sounded like someone who'd lived in various US states at various times, though, that much he was sure of. Not that it mattered, of course, but he suddenly found himself wanting to know as much as possible about this towering lion…

"Ah, see…" the lion remarked with a grin that made Kian's knees turn soft and shaky like jelly "…that's how you know they actually wanted you. They only make those kinds of offers if they like the looks of ya. They saw you walk in – big, tough predator with big fangs and sleek muscles, a cock designed to cause as much pain as pleasure, and a fat wallet to go with it all – and they started fantasizing about feeling the weight of that muscular frame on their backs, that bristled cockhead reaming out their tailholes, those murderous fangs nibbling on their necks… and hey, if some of that fat wallet wound up in their pockets at the same time, so much the better! Everybody needs a side-hustle in this economy and, for them, mixing business with pleasure is the way to do that."

Kian took another big gulp of the beer-bottle, which was suddenly almost empty. Maybe he had been rather pale when the lion first helped him onto a barstool, but he certainly wasn't now – he could feel his cheeks burning through his spotted fur as that frank explanation made his mind, and various other parts of his anatomy, start to whir. "Um… 'course, I don't blame 'em or anything…" he managed to mumble, noticing an ever-so-slight slur to his voice. "I should've been more… clear, 'bout not being interested." This 'good beer' was clearly potent stuff – he was a bit of a lightweight in general, sure, but not to the point where two beers should be having a noticeable impact!

His heart seemed to skip a beat or two as the lion chuckled warmly, looking down at him with… some kind of look that he didn't dare try to interpret, lest wistful thinking overrule logic. "I figured you'd be understanding…" he remarked, putting down the beer he'd been nursing – seemingly one of the same bottles the doberman had given to Kian. "…especially since you're clearly after the same thing they want. Just, minus the money-angle, I'd guess." The leopard coughed – repeatedly. His last swallow of beer seemed to have gone down the wrong pipe, at least in part. With another chuckle, the lion patted him on the back, clearly holding back but still hitting hard enough to jerk Kian's body forwards with each impact.

"What… makes you say that?" He gasped once his throat was clear again. Not so much because he wanted to deny it, as simply because… he still didn't entirely know himself what he wanted. The lion shrugged in reply. "Well, being surrounded by cute bottoms basically made you panic…" he remarked dryly. "Meanwhile, you were glancing wistfully at the tops, who unfortunately wouldn't give you the time of day since they all see you as 'competition', I suppose." He grinned again, sending a fresh wobble through Kian's knees. "I mean, it's just a guess – but am I wrong? Try to picture some big, strong fellow, pushing you up against a wall… hot breath on your neck, something thick poking under your tail, firm hands bending you over and holding you in place…"

Kian swallowed. His head felt feverishly hot, his heart was pumping fast… the lion's description was remarkably evocative. Indeed, he could feel his tail twitching behind him, like it was trying to move out of something's way. He didn't say anything, but clearly, his face was answering the question for him. "Bullseye, eh?" The lion rumbled, a grin on his face. He was leaning on the bar with one elbow now, his attention squarely on Kian, and the weight of that alone was enough to constrict his throat.

"Right then!" The lion suddenly declared, chugging the last mouthful of his own beer before slapping the bottle down on the counter with a sharp sound. "We wouldn't want your first visit here to end on a sour note, right? Why don'tcha let me take care of you for today? Once the rest of the guys have seen which way you swing, and you're not a new face anymore, I promise you they'll be more hospitable…" Kian whetted his suddenly-dry lips, not quite able to believe what he was hearing. This… incredible creature was offering… well, he wasn't completely sure what he was offering, but he knew that he wanted it. Paw shaking, he lifted his beer-bottle and downed what remained in it – hoping that the strong, yet smooth brew would settle his nerves.

"Well?" The lion asked pleasantly as he put the bottle down again. "What do you say? Consent is important around here, y'know." Kian swallowed, then nodded jerkily. The part of him that wanted to run away had, by now, been entirely drowned out by the desire to reach for this forbidden fruit that dangled right in front of him. "That would be… nice." He said, not knowing how else to put it. Grinning, the lion rose from his barstool, patting him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit! Don't you worry, I'll give you the proper Bear's Den experience and then some… oh, I'm Gil, by the way. You?"

Kian had prepared a false identity for this occasion. Had a phony ID in his wallet and everything. All of which he had, in that moment, forgotten. "Kian." Then, as he somewhat unsteadily got to his feet, something did pop into his mind, despite it otherwise being mostly occupied with admiring the way Gil's impossibly sculpted physique rippled under the tight pants and half-open shirt he wore. "Umm… there's a motel just down the block… right?" He'd scoped it out beforehand, just in case. Hoping it'd make him seem less… green. Fat lotta good that'd done!

Gil, however, shook his head with a chuckle, momentarily hypnotizing Kian with the undulating motions of his lustrous mane. "Naahh… if you're gonna slum it, you need to do it right…" his grin widened, and he glanced towards the doberman who was busying himself at the other end of the bar. "Regulars can get away with using the toilets for a quicker, 's long as no money change hands. Running across a couple banging against the urinals is practically part of the ambiance here! But, since you're new… well, let's make your first time proper memorable, eh? C'mere…"

A heavily-muscled arm encircled Kian's shoulders, guiding him towards the back of the bar-room, and he obediently followed along without protest. Their destination, it seemed, was a door at the end of the counter, marked 'Fire Exit' in nice, bold, high-visibility letters. It opened without any difficulty or alarm before a simple push from the towering lion – though, Kian had a feeling that it would've done so even if it was locked – and they emerged into a narrow back-alley. One end terminated in a padlocked gate, beyond which the road he'd parked on was visible, while the other disappeared around a corner. A number of trash-cans and containers lined it, giving the are a distinctive scent – with undertones suggesting that the bar's patrons sometimes used the alley as an emergency urinal when the toilets were too busy.

Kian wasn't sure where they were going. Maybe Gil had a place nearby, and this alley was a shortcut? Not so, as it turned out – in fact, they seemingly weren't going very far. He was led around the large dumpster that presumably served as a repository of the bar's refuse – then, gently but firmly, pushed down to the ground behind it, barely out of sight of the street. "Now then…" the big lion grunted, reaching down to undo his fly as Kian stared, wide-eyed "…you'd better start suckin', unless you want this goin' up your tailpipe dry."

The bulge on the front of Gil's tight jeans had been impressive. What it turned into now, unsheathed and semi-hard, was far more so. It was like something you'd expect to see on an equine, not a feline, Kian marveled as it approached his face – as thick as his wrist, with well-developed spines around the tip. Some felines had 'em removed these days, particularly if they wound up with a particularly nasty set, but Gil was clearly more of a traditionalist in that regard. And… the scent that poured out with it! It was practically a visible cloud of pheromone-rich sweat and male musk, overpowering the smell of the nearby dumpster and prompting a significant bulge to develop in Kian's own pants.

He had no idea what he was doing. He'd never tried anything like it before, unless one counted cunnilingus – which he had, indeed, gotten some practice with while wooing his wife. But… it was right there in front of him as he knelt behind the dumpster, the lion's powerful paw was firm on his head, and the scent alone was making it hard to even think straight. So, he did what came natural – licking and kissing the thick tool, sucking on its tip and feeling its barbs tickle his palate. It tasted of salty sweat and bitter pre-cum, of submission and unexplored pleasures. He couldn't fit it down his throat, though he tried – but Gil, fortunately, did not seem to mind, stroking his headfur and crooning encouragingly down at him as he practiced his cock-sucking…

"That'll do, friend…" the lion finally growled once his tool stood hard and solid as steel, the whole shaft glistening with fresh saliva. "Time to break you in properly." Powerful paws lifted him to his feet and spun him around. He followed their direction without complaint, practically in a trance from the unfamiliar scent, taste, and sensation, his heart pounding fast but steady, his sheath aching in his pants. He was being pushed up against the wall now, rough bricks against his face and paws. Ass out, feet spread… a firm touch on his upper spine, keeping him in place as a razor-sharp claw dug into the back of his pants, opening the stitching down from the tail-gap to the crotch. The thin fabric of his underwear didn't fare much better, and he shivered as that claw caressed the length of his butt-crack, not drawing blood but definitely making itself felt. He could feel cool air against his ass-fur and sphincter – in his current position, the fabric there was strained, opening neatly now that it wasn't being held together anymore.

"Ya know, normally I'd start you off more gently…" Gil remarked conversationally as he rubbed a spit-covered finger firmly against Kian's tailhole. "Some smaller toys, a few fingers maybe – work yer way up to what I'm packing. Some real lube, too, 'stead of just saliva. Just tellin' ya, so you know it doesn't have to hurt. But this time? Oh, it will hurt… and I think you'll enjoy that. You're gonna lose your cherry to a bloke you just met, behind the dumpster of a gay bar, and it'll hurt like hell, and you'll love it…"

Kian didn't answer. It wasn't a question, after all, just a statement. He just whimpered quietly as one powerful paw gripped his hips, another caught him by the face and covered his mouth – and something thick, hard, pointy, and wet pushed against his virgin tailhole. Between the sheer girth and the so-so lubrication, it should've been a difficult entry – but the lion's sheer strength was unquestionable, inexorable, irresistible. Kian's tailhole simply opened, stretching around the wrist-thick intruder, and that was all there was to it… though, that wasn't to say that it did so without complaint.

He spent the first several minutes screaming and sobbing into the paw over his mouth, tears running from his squeezed-shut eyes. His sphincter was an agonized ring of fire, stinging and smarting continuously. Deeper inside, other pains were radiating out, harder to pin down but no less unpleasant. And yet… his paws never left the wall, his legs remained staunchly spread, and his tail had actually wrapped itself halfway around the lion's muscular waist, all but pulling him in. It felt like… like he was finally awake!

He'd been in a daze, he now realized – ever since he first laid eyes on Gil. It had seemed too good to be true, too much like a self-indulgent fantasy or a wet dream. This pain, though, had woken him up, and now his mind was racing to catch up. He was really standing there, just a few yards from a busy street, barely hidden from it behind a dumpster and fully visible to anyone else who might use this dirty back-alley… pushed up against the wall by a bigger, stronger male, who was eagerly using his body for his own gratification. He could feel the lion's soft paw-pads against his face, smell the fur on the back of his hands as it tickled his nose – and feel his innards being gradually rearranged by the huge, rock-hard cock currently spearing his ass. Bends and corners were being forcibly straightened, turning his tailhole into the same kind of 'boy-pussy' the rent-boys inside had so suggestively whispered about. Turning him into one of them – a pliable, obedient fuckhole for the real males to use as they pleased…

By the time Kian felt Gil's hips flush against his buttocks – his ass having been forced to accommodate the entire, oversized lion-tool – his screams had given way to moans. His sphincter still hurt, and no mistake – indeed, the pain was now redoubling as the lion settled into a new rhythm, with longer, more powerful thrusts, raking his cockhead-barbs forcefully across the length of his already-sore intestines. He just… didn't mind anymore. The pain brought clarity, the pain was a symbol of his new purpose, and proof that he was serving it well. The only pleasure he needed was the sound of the huge lion's heavy breathing, hot against the back of his neck… though, of course, the way the thick shaft was grinding against his prostate didn't hurt either.

The real ecstasy, though, came simply from the sense of relief. He'd been right. This was what he'd been searching for – what he needed. He'd found it, and it was everything he'd imagined and more. Firm hands holding him, a powerful body covering his, something thick and hard and soft deep inside of him, a heavy pair of balls bouncing off his buttocks. The hand covering his face had disappeared – now, it was on his shoulder, holding him in place, while he freely panted and moaned.? ? There was a wet, slimy sensation in his pants – his cock hadn't even fully unsheathed itself, caught within the torn fabric of his underwear, but he'd still somehow managed to cum. It didn't feel important, though. All that mattered was the heady mixture of pain and pleasure that was radiating out from his battered anus… and the question of whether Gil was truly enjoying this ride.

Kian reached a second orgasm, redoubling the warm, slimy sensation in his pants, before he got the answer to that question. It came in the form of a groan, a powerful pair of hips vibrating against his spotty buttocks, and something hot and slimy spreading deep inside of him. A sense of elation rolled through him, an almost victorious feeling – his inexperienced tailhole had indeed managed to give that mighty lion a suitable recompense for the revelation he'd been provided with. He moaned in regret as that mighty cock withdrew, then – still hard, rigid, throbbing with virility – and it wasn't because of the pain its barbed head caused on the way out.

"There!" Gil declared cheerfully, stepping back to leave Kian leaning heavily against the wall, still panting, his freshly-deflowered tailhole gaping and twitching in the absence of the rod that had just so thoroughly reshaped it and given it a new purpose. "The patented 'Back Alley Bang', a specialty of The Bear's Den. Can't be beat when it comes to slumming it, or so I'm told. Nobody'll call you green after this." Trying to get his brain to work well enough to come up with a suitable reply and largely failing, Kian half-turned to look over his shoulder – his eyes instantly focusing on the cock that had just inducted him into a new world. It glistened with slime, and the barbed head sported clear, red traces – but it was, indeed, still wonderfully hard…

"Can we… do more?" he managed to gasp out, unable to tear his eyes away from it. His tailhole was throbbing painfully as it tried to pull itself back into its previous shape, but all he wanted was to feel that velvet-soft hardness inside it again. The lion clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "You got quite the appetite for someone who just lost his cherry, there…" he remarked, a note of mischief in his voice. "Developing a taste for what it means to be a bottom, hmm? Well… maybe if you can show me that you're able to handle all of a bottom's duties, we can play a bit longer. This time, and when you come back for more…"

Kian was nodding, even before Gil had finished talking. He hadn't moved beyond looking back – he was still bending over against the wall, still presenting his twitching tailhole through the crack in his pants. Whatever 'a bottom's duties' entailed, he wanted to learn them, and prove to this magnificent creature that he was fully capable of observing them! The lion grinned at his eagerness, then pointed downwards. "Let's find out how long that enthusiasm lasts, then! Get back down on your knees, and let's see you clean what you just fouled – with your tongue, if you hadn't guessed! Do a good job, and I'll get it messy again…"

A slight shudder went through the leopard as he complied, dropping to his knees before the towering, golden figure, feeling almost worshipful. There was a large, wet spot on the front of his pants, and he could hear a slow, slimy drip as the cum that had just been pumped into his ass started to escape it and hit the pavement below. The scent of the cock that dangled before him no longer served to overpower the smell of the nearby dumpster, but rather seemed to… complement it. It was disgusting, debasing, humiliating… and yet, it didn't even occur to him to refuse. If this was what it took to prove himself worthy of this magnificent lion's affections, worthy of being a pliable fuckhole in his hands, then he'd do it with a smile and learn to do it well!

Sam Nigripes sauntered casually down the street, paws buried deep in the pockets of his trenchcoat, fedora riding low on his brow. Sometimes, customers had a laugh at his outfit, he reflected – but they seemed to fail to understand that some things were cliche for a good reason. Being shorter than most furs, the combination of long coat and broad-brimmed hat made it difficult for people to even identify him as a ferret at a glance, much less recognize his face – most who passed him on the street just saw the 'uniform', catching not even a glimpse of his fur or any other identifying features. That was useful, for a fur in his line of work. And, heck, depending on the weather, it didn't even really stand out – like today, with its blustery wind and gray skies warning of impending rain.

Despite this depressing weather, his mood lifted as he turned the corner. He'd had to park out of sight to avoid drawing attention from the mark he'd followed here, which always carried with it the risk of losing the scent – but, there was only ever one likely destination for a rich guy in this part of town, especially if said rich guy was trying his damnedest to keep a low profile. And, sure enough, a spotted tail was disappearing through the door of The Bear's Den, confirming his suspicions. It didn't really matter how carefully you covered your tracks, Sam reflected as he continued to walk calmly along the street, as if neither the bar nor the leopard who'd just entered it had anything to do with him – if you snuck off to the same place multiple times per week, you'd wind up leaving enough of a trail for a studious gumshoe to follow.

The ferret glanced at the bar's windows as he passed. Tinted, of course – he could see nothing but his own reflection. Well, that was fine – he didn't mind a challenge. Made him feel like he was earning his keep, even when the actual investigation had been a bit of a joke. He'd made a few qualified guesses as soon as that dame had hired him, and most of them had panned out – rich guys were never half as good at sneaking around as they thought they were, eh? Still… it was a bit depressing, he thought as he paused at the corner of the bar, lighting a cigarette. Same old story, over and over again. Wife thinks hubby's having an affair, hires a PI, expects him to turn up some glamorous mistress living in fancy hotel-room, then gets shocked and disgusted when he instead returns with pictures of her significant other banging a rent-boy in a porta-potty.

Sam's eyes fell on the gate next to the bar. Through it, he could see a narrow, refuse-strewn alley, lined with trashcans and dumpsters. The side of the bar… there were a couple of windows, high up. More for ventilation than anything else, seemed like, but they were open. And the gate was closed with a heavy old padlock that'd probably stand up to a shotgun fairly well, but which he could shim open in three seconds flat. Though… the sign on it would probably deter most casual explorers, he thought with a sardonic smile. 'PRIVATE PROPERTY – intruders should bring own lube' it read, in suitably official-looking block letters.

That did not deter Sam Nigripes, though – you didn't make it far as a PI if you couldn't shrug off a blood-curdling threat or two, after all, and his trenchcoat once again came into its own. With that loose garment fluttering in the wind as he walked up to the gate, it'd be damn difficult for a casual observer to tell that he didn't use a key to open the padlock, carefully unhooking it without making too much noise, then slipping inside and closing the gate after himself. Wouldn't do to alert anyone inside the bar – the sign was an obvious joke, but he didn't particularly want to wind up on the business-end of a shotgun or a fine for unlawful entry, either. Cops tended to have short tempers when it came to 'amateurs' like him skirting the law, after all…

The alleyway was empty, and turned a corner a short way ahead, providing sharply limited visibility. The building at the end of it had some windows pointing his way, but they were all boarded over – it was a rough part of town. So, unless somebody looked straight down the alley from the street, he was basically out of sight… a risk, that, but you couldn't do business in this town without taking a few of those! With that in mind, he glanced up at the nearest 'window' – merely a crack, a few inches high, just above the bar's fire-door. Which, he reflected as he tested the nearby brickwork, couldn't possibly be up to code, considering that it opened out into a narrow alley locked at one end!

Other furs often underestimated the climbing-abilities of a ferret – something that Sam had taken advantage of frequently over the course of his long and colorful career. His hard claws dug into the moldering mortar between the bricks easily enough, and his light, slender body made it all the easier to shimmy his way up the sheer wall, to the high window. Peeking through, he spotted his target right away – the handsomely-spotted leopard stood out, among the rest of the bar's clientele – and raised his eyebrows in surprise. The company he was keeping was… not what he'd expected. Still – what difference did it make, really?

With a mental shrug, he hung on with three paws while pulling his camera out of the trenchcoat's inside pocket with the fourth. Cameraphones were all well and good and, in some situations, they were great for snapping pictures without anyone noticing – but they weren't well-suited for taking pictures in dimly-lit bars without a telltale flash! Hence, the rather expensive low-light lens on his old-school camera. Lifting it to the window with a steady hand, he peered through the viewfinder, making sure his target was front and center. Kian Badenhorst, Leopard, South-African descent – sitting at a table surrounded by four burly males, beer in hand. Rhino, musk-ox, polar-bear, lion… probably not significant, but worth making a note of. Click.

Sam remained where he was for a couple of minutes, his well-toned muscles allowing him to continue clinging to the wall with ease – and he was glad he did. He couldn't hear what the five at the table were talking about, but he could read his mark's face just fine: Embarrassment, mixed with arousal. Something was about to happen – something spicy. And, sure enough, just then the lion put down his beer-bottle and rose from his seat by the table, prompting the leopard – his mark – to swiftly empty his drink and follow suit. The two of them departed… towards the toilets, hmm? Typical.

Glancing down the alleyway, Sam smiled. Two more 'windows' of the same design further down, at just the right spot. Narrow slivers of frosted glass. Meant to provide light and, more importantly, ventilation for the toilets. Hence why they were both open. Slipping the camera back in his pocket, he swiftly scampered down the wall, along the alley, and up again – jumping onto a dumpster to save some time, ensuring that he reached the next window fast enough to spot his mark and the lion stepping into a stall together. Drawing his camera as swiftly as any old-west gunslinger, he aimed and fired. Click.

He remained there for a while. The lion eventually emerged from the stall, alone, looking satisfied. Click. Meets the rhino at the door to the main bar-room, slaps his palm – 'tagging in'. Click. Rhino enters same stall. Click. Rhino exits stall several minutes later. Click. Another tag-in at the door, with the musk-ox this time. Probably not worth another shot, the first one should convey the point well enough, and this kind of low-light film was expensive. Musk-ox enters stall. Click. A pattern was emerging, and it seemed like he'd be stuck here for a while if he wanted a picture of his mark stumbling out of that toilet-stall at the end. Ah well – despite the rather unpleasant scents wafting out of the window and into his face, he'd had worse stakeouts…

Something with the approximate size and strength of a Great White's jaws suddenly clamped down on his neck, pulling him away from the wall. Gurgling in surprise, his weight now resting painfully on the armpits and belt of his trenchcoat, Sam only barely managed to maintain his grip on the camera, briefly rattled. "Well, now… a peeping tom, is it?" A voice rumbled – so deep it seemed to make his bones shiver a bit. "Didya bring lube? I mean, I assume you saw the sign…" turning his head as much as he could manage, Sam glanced at the fur who was currently holding him in the air with one paw. The lion, from the table – same one who'd led his mark into that toilet-stall. He looked… bigger, up close. Also angrier, his heavy brow creased. And… well, going by the size of the bulge in those tight jeans he was wearing, the leopard was a remarkably flexible feline!

An unpleasant situation to be sure, but Sam had been in a few of those before. Various options flashed through his mind, accelerated by a surge of adrenaline. Most of them carried likely consequences. Best bet… chancy, but he could always fall back on other options if it failed. Time to demonstrate another advantage to a good trenchcoat! Reaching down with his free hand, he loosened its belt, then raised both arms, careful to maintain a solid grip on the precious camera. The lion was holding on to the coat, and with his slender ferret physique and smooth fur, he could simply let gravity take its course and slip right out of it – landing nimbly in a crouch, one arm still stretched above his head, holding the camera.

He'd expected the big lug to take a moment to realize he was holding an empty coat. A moment was all he'd need to take off down the alleyway at a sprint – giving the much larger fur little prospect of catching up. He'd be out through the unlocked gate and away down the street, with enough incriminating pictures to do the job – heck, he could bill the client for the loss of his trenchcoat under the 'expenses' clause. Unfortunately for Sam, though, he didn't even have time to straighten up from his landing before a kick struck him solidly in the back, sending him sprawling into the wall – and before he could recover from that, a paw had grabbed the back of his leather shoulder-holster, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him solidly up against the brickwork.

"That's a 'no', I suppose…" the lion growled behind him, and his blood froze as he heard the sound of a zipper. "Guess we're doing this dry!" The force holding him against the wall was inexorable. He couldn't even reach his gun due to the angle, and besides, he had a chilling suspicion that even a .45 slug wouldn't do much more than piss off this titan. Of course… if it did, he'd probably be looking at a murder-rap under the circumstances, which wasn't ideal either. Time for a more desperate fall-back!

"I am an accredited Private Investigator!" he managed to squeak, despite how hard it was to breathe with his chest forced against the wall. "And whatever your sign says, you can't just rape me – I'll take a trespassing-rap if I report this to the police, but you'd be doing hard time while I pay a fine!" The paw on his back didn't slacken, but he heard a thoughtful grunt. Then… something very large, hard, and hot was resting against his buttocks, making his tail frizz out. "Gumshoe, eh?" The lion remarked, leaning over him. "Guessing you're here for the leopard. Wife hire you?" The ferret cleared his throat, which proved difficult since his heart seemed to be currently located in roughly the same place. "I can't… discuss my clients…" he squeaked out.

"Oh?" The deep voice behind him asked, sounding surprised. "Is that because you can't breathe?" The paw on his back was pressing harder, now. Pushing him against the wall hard enough to make his ribs creak. His lungs… couldn't expand. His vision was growing dim. Being a private detective was a dangerous business – he'd been threatened before, in many colorful ways. He'd been roughed up, left battered and bruised, even had to recover from broken bones or a nasty concussion once or twice. He'd faced down real killers, underworld button-men, even a genuine psychopath on one memorable occasion. But this lion… there was something different about him. He wasn't just some mob muscle or an angry biker. Felt more like… a soldier, kind of – and an elite one at that. A sense of, "I'll kill you if I have to, not because I got anything against you personally, but because it's my job, and I'm damn good at my job."

His vision cleared. The pressure had abated, and his lungs were filling with air again. "There…" the lion's voice growled next to his ear. "You can breathe now, right? And I'm sure that means that you can also 'discuss your clients'… so I'll ask again: Did Kian's wife hire you?" Sam swallowed. There was a time and a place for professional ethics – and a time and a place for ensuring that you lived to see another dawn. "Yes." He squeaked. The deep voice sighed. Then, another huge paw reached forwards, and tore the camera from his grip. Wide-eyed, Sam watched as the lion simply closed his hand around it, breaking the delicate electronics and destroying the film within. He'd sprung for the impact-proof titanium casing, and this lumbering hulk was crushing it like an empty beer-can!

"Here's what you're gonna do…" the lion growled, leaning in and again making Sam painfully aware of something the size of one of his arms resting against his twitching posterior. "You're gonna go back to the gal who hired you, and tell her that you were able to track her hubby to this place – but, some nasty old bouncer caught you before you could grab any photos, and now they know your face there so you can't go back. Tell her that if she wants to know what he's up to there, she's better off just coming here herself to check."

The grip on his back disappeared, leaving him to drop to the pavement. Breathing heavily, he scrambled around, only to freeze as he looked up at his assailant – who was standing half a step away, arms crossed. It was more like gazing up at some larger-than-life statue than a real fur – an artist's impression of an implacable titan, an imagined apex of muscular masculinity, with a dark mane that seemed to invoke the sun's corona. And standing from his groin… arm-sized? Forget about it. It was as thick as one of his thighs, and longer to boot. "You can even tell her about this alleyway…" the lion rumbled, glaring firmly down at the ferret standing, half-crouched, before him. "But if you tell her anything else 'bout what you saw, you'd better make a habit of greasing up your tailhole, 'cuz at some point, some 'unidentified perpetrator' is gonna catch ya from behind and introduce you to a whole new world. Do we have an understanding?"

Sam swallowed. Who was this guy? Well… 'someone not to be messed with' was what all his instincts were saying, in no uncertain terms. Heck, he cut such an overwhelming figure that, despite being fairly certain that he absolutely didn't swing that way, Sam couldn't help but notice the way his sphincter was twitching right now… almost like it was wondering how it would feel. Being… lifted up, and used, by someone like that. Gritting his teeth, he clamped down on those sudden, intrusive thoughts. A time and a place for professional ethics, indeed. "I hear ya." He declared, nodding jerkily. "No need for any of us to get unfriendly, right? I'll tell 'er, just as you asked." He meant it, too. Whatever he'd just stumbled into… he had a strong feeling that it was way outside his paygrade. Better to just cut his losses, and make the most of his retainer. The lion, for his part, grinned – apparently recognizing that he wasn't just fibbing. "Good. Now get your fancy coat, and get outta here – but don't forget to lock the gate on the way out…"

Tanya Badenhorst, née Petrovna, shuddered as she got out of her car. Not so much because of the cold weather or the wind – as a Snow-Leopard, her thick, dense fur was well-suited for low temperatures, and she always let it grow out in autumn – but rather just from the general… vibes of this place. Run-down buildings with boarded-up windows, closed-down corner-stores, homeless people sleeping in doorways. Definitely not the nice part of town, and probably not a place that a femme of her stature should go alone. Of course, she did have a compact, yet powerful handgun in her purse, and by her father's insistence, knew how to use it. He'd been very clear, when she moved to the States – it was either that, or a pair of bodyguards accompanying her everywhere. Indeed, he'd clearly preferred the later, but she'd decided to see the pistol-training as part of… acclimatizing to the culture of the USA.

Even so, she probably shouldn't be here, she had to admit. But… she needed to know. She knew something was up with Kian. He still acted courteous, even romantic, at parties and other events, a perfectly-polished escort – but at home, he was always 'too busy' for any kind of intimacy. The subject of when and how to have cubs had seemingly stopped being relevant altogether. It wasn't simple, after all! They could have cubs, but in-vitro gene therapy could be necessary to avoid sterility or other complications – Leopards and Snow-Leopards weren't quite as closely related as many seemed to assume. Artificial insemination or even adoption was an alternative – she didn't really know how she felt about them, but right now, the main concern was that her husband seemed completely disinterested in even having the conversation, and indeed in her.

She wasn't an idiot, though. She knew perfectly well that her father had maintained at least three different mistresses while she was growing up – but he'd at least still found some time for her actual mother, as her own existence proved! And she'd decided, even back then, that she wouldn't wind up as her mother – staying quiet and faithful at home while her husband played the field and amused himself in a new set of arms every night! Heck, it was a big part of the reason she'd decided to study in, and later emigrate to, the States – to get away from the antiquated, patriarchal culture that still prevailed back home in Russia, especially among oligarchs like her father.

And yet, here she was. Trying to find out who her husband was running off to spend time with. The private detective she'd hired hadn't been as helpful as she'd hoped, only being able to give her a location – she rather wondered if his story of being chased off by a hulking bouncer and not being able to investigate further was even true. He'd seemed rather shifty when he delivered it, and now that she was here, there were no bouncers in sight. Just a garish neon-sign over a run-down bar, blacked-out windows… and, admittedly, a dirty little back-alley right next to it, just like the one the PI had described.

Torn, she looked from the bar's front door to the gated alleyway. She was fairly certain he was here, right now – unless that ferret had just made the whole thing up out of whole cloth to justify keeping his retainer. He'd left in the usual way, making the usual excuses. She could just burst in through that front door, and demand to know where he was! But… just the sight of it was making her feel uncertain. This wasn't what she'd expected to find. Some kind of high-class club, maybe, where he was hooking up with an expensive call-femme or something, but… well, it did look like the kind of place that might operate an illegal brothel on the top floor, maybe? Or perhaps that only happened in movies. And what if that ferret had just made it all up, or simply messed up when tracking her wandering husband? She'd look like a right ninny kicking down the door if he wasn't actually in there! Place like that could also be full of rough, criminal types that she didn't want to show off her expensive coat and brand-name purse to… maybe she should've tried to find something cheaper to wear? But, she didn't really have anything cheap in her wardrobe…

Experimentally, she approached the gate next to the building. There was a rather… colorful sign on it, but the padlock that hung from its handle was open. Carelessly left that way by somebody, perhaps? A sign, one might even say. If she could just… sneak back here, maybe peer in through some of the side-windows, or even just listen at the fire-door she spied back there, maybe she could at least figure out whether Kian was even there – without causing a scene! She could always reveal her presence later, but she couldn't very well go back to sneaking about if she went in through the front door, right?

On silent paws, she entered the alley, leaving the gate slightly ajar behind her, just in case she needed to make a swift retreat. The alley was empty, seemingly unobserved, and smelled indescribably foul. As she walked further into it, though, her ears perked up. Strange noises… coming from one of those little ventilation-windows high up on the bar's walls. One of them was open a crack, and there was a closed dumpster right below it. Well… this was what she'd come here for, right? Drawing up her courage, she carefully climbed up on the dumpster, and stretched like only a feline could – poking her muzzle through the half-open window, and wincing at the smell.

She was looking into what seemed to be a men's room – with the smell suggesting that it wasn't a particularly hygienic one of its kind. At the moment, though, the stench was the least of her concerns – she'd frozen in place, eyes widening, at the sight that met her. Such… depravity, right out in the open! It took her a moment to even fully parse it, but… it was Kian, all right. She could easily tell from the pattern of his spots, even though his face was hidden – and there was plenty of spotty fur to see, considering that he was buck-naked.

A broad blindfold covered the top half his face, while a muzzle-gag covered the lower half. A pair of handcuffs had been run through the pipes at the top of a urinal, and were holding him in place there, bent over that foul-scented porcelain fountain. Even so, it was obvious at a glance that he was there by choice – his tail wasn't fluffed up, like it'd be if he was anxious, angry or in pain. Instead, it was weaving sinuously in the air above his rear, its base currently held in the meaty fist of a large timberwolf, while he huffed and panted. The canine's hips were a blur, short and snappy thrusts pouring into her husband's rear – a tie, she knew just enough about canine physiology to realize. It was the rapid patter of hip-on-ass impacts, and her husband's gag-muffled groans of pleasure, that she'd heard.

Slowly, her tunnel-vision widened, and she was able to take in the rest of the scene. A burly muskox was standing nearby, carefully wiping down his long, tapered tool with a handful of toilet-paper. Parts of it still looked slimy. A cheerful-looking polar-bear was walking up behind the wolf, one arm cradling a much shorter rabbit to his side – his paw casually fondling the smaller fur's cotton-tailed buttocks. "Try not to let that tie last too long, eh?" he growled, his voice carrying easily to Tanya's ears thanks to the harsh resonance of the tiled bathroom walls. "You heard him – everybody gets a turn today, and there's a heck of a line forming!"

The wolf stopped his thrusts quite suddenly, his hips and tail twitching violently while a wheezing growl left his lips. He was… cumming, she realized. Cumming in her husband! "Don't… rush me." The big canine then remarked as he regained his breath, straightening up. "If I pull out before my knot deflates, I'll gape his ass so badly, it'll be no fun to the rest of ya! As if Gil didn't already stretch him enough, eh?" The polar-bear sighed, doing something with his fingers that made the rabbit by his side moan in a high-pitched, feminine voice. "I guess… you gonna give spots a reach-around while you're waitin' or something? I'm kinda' surprised there isn't a puddle on the floor already, honestly, with the way folks've been going at 'im…"

A bark of laughter came from the throat of the timberwolf. "What, you didn't hear?" He remarked, then reached down to grab her husband's right leg – effortlessly pulling it up so that the bound-and-gagged leopard was practically doing a standing split. Tanya's eyes widened all over again at what this revealed – a gleaming cage covered her husband's groin, ranging from a tight-looking metal ring that surrounded the top of his sack, to a solid plate covering his sheath-opening with just a few tiny holes in it. From the central hole, a short string of tiny beads dangled, dripping white slime. "Poor spots ain't allowed to cum…" the wolf remarked, reaching down to fondle his dangling, taut-looking balls, prompting a stifled groan from the slender leopard. "Not 'till we're all done with him, anyway!"

Silently, Tanya slid down the wall to crouch on the dumpster, leaving that perverse sight behind – though she could still hear the coarse laughter filtering out from the window. Part of her wanted to ask how her husband could possibly want what was currently happening to him – how he could willingly go so far out of his way, behind her back and to this shady part of town, just to be used and humiliated. But another, more visceral part of her had noticed that her own breathing and heartbeat was accelerated, and that a faint moistness had developed at the front of her expensive silk panties. There was something… primal about what she'd just seen. It had nothing to do with heirs, dynasties, social expectations or obligations – it was raw, lust-driven sex, with no purpose beyond the pleasure of the participants. Indeed, both sides of the equation had given off an aura of hungry passion that was entirely foreign to her – it certainly hadn't existed in her childhood home, nor in the mansion she now shared with her husband…

Someone cleared their throat behind her, making her body stiffen, her fur frizz up, and her rambling mind grind to a screeching halt. Slowly, she turned her head, and saw a lion leaning against the opposite wall of the alleyway – a big, muscular specimen, tall enough to be eye-level with her even as she sat atop the dumpster. A tight shirt, halfway unbuttoned, and an equally-tight pair of jeans with a noticeable bulge on the front – certainly, he'd fit right in with the succession of males who were currently taking turns reaming out her husband's tailhole. He also seemed… rather unconcerned about her presence, and indeed unsurprised.

"So…" the lion intoned politely, "…now that you know he's not just sneaking off to bang some femme who's younger and prettier than you, d'ya feel better? Or does knowing that he's here to get something you could never give him actually make you feel worse? I'm morbidly curious…" Clearly, he knew who she was, at least to some degree, making denial seem rather pointless. "Honestly… a bit of both, I think." Why not just be honest, at this point? Sure, she was on private property, but he didn't seem in any hurry to eject her. The lion, for his part, nodded thoughtfully. "I guess that makes sense. Stuff like that is complicated, huh? But – I hope you understand, it's not really his fault. I'm pretty sure he didn't realize what it was he actually needs, 'till after he'd married you."

Tanya grimaced. She understood that just fine, right enough. Her father wouldn't – he was oldfashioned and, as far as he was concerned, homosexuality was sinful and perverse all by itself, never mind the kind of thing Kian was getting up to in there. "Is he… always doing stuff like that?" She asked, gesturing limply in the direction of the window above. The lion shrugged. "Well, today's kind of a special event! Planned and prepared for a while…" he remarked, before sighing. "But if you just mean, 'getting bent over and reamed out good by a big, strong male while he pants and moans', then yes, pretty much. Indeed, he's proven to be quite adept at it!" Faint growls and moans were filtering down from the window, suggesting that by now, the polar-bear she'd seen had taken the wolf's place, and was busily humping away.

"There's more to it than just… batting for the other team, y'know…" the lion continued thoughtfully as she glanced up towards the window, fighting a sudden temptation to stretch her way up there for another look. "He gets off just on being a bottom, too – the relaxation of putting yourself in another's paws, even the thrill of humiliation and debasement. All spiced up further with the taboo of 'slumming it' with a bunch of rough-and-ready males in a trash-strewn alley or the toilets of a dive-bar. It's a whole experience!" Tanya shrugged. She'd certainly sensed some of that… heck, it was making her wonder how much of that 'experience' was tied to the whole 'male-on-male' part of the deal. But…

"It doesn't really matter…" she declared coldly. "I'm still going to have to divorce him. This can't just… continue." Her face fell a bit, then, and she sighed. "Daddy's gonna ruin that poor boy…" she mumbled dejectedly. He… didn't really deserve that, did he? The lion was right, after all – it wasn't his fault that he was… like that. "Well, I'll admit it doesn't seem fair to you either…" the lion said conversationally, still leaning calmly against the wall as he had throughout their conversation. "But… why don't you just even the score? Have an affair of your own!"

Tanya blinked, and took a closer look at the lion. He really was one heck of a specimen – even at a glance, he was clearly bursting with raw sexuality and overflowing virility… and his clothes certainly didn't leave a lot to the imagination. He probably weighed two or three times what she did – or, for that matter, what Kian did – and it was clearly all muscle. She'd seen male models who were less attractive – honestly, just looking at the way his fuzzy chest was poking out of his half-open shirt, and the sheer size of the bulge in his tight jeans, some of the arousal that had snuck into her loins while watching her husband's self-induced humiliation reasserted itself.

"Maybe I should…" she declared with a sigh "…shame you're gay. Like, I get it, but it's just such a waste…" That was probably a rather offensive thing to say, on reflection, but she was feeling too confused and sad and angry to care right now. The lion, however, didn't seem to take offense – just grinning more widely. "Who ever said I was gay?" He remarked. "I go both ways, I'll have you know. Bisexual, and all that." Her eyes widened at that declaration. She'd been looking at him as… a sculpture, beautiful but out of reach. It had seemed obvious! But… if there was actually a possibility… the wetness in her panties had just redoubled. It would only be fair, right? Maybe two wrongs didn't make one right, but it was still better than just being the wronged party!

"How much?" She asked bluntly, already reaching for her purse. Whatever he charged, she could certainly afford it. The lion sighed and shook his head. "I'd generally take offense at that… but, seeing as you're obviously distraught, I'll let it slide." He gently remarked. "I'm not for sale or rent, I'll have you know. I just go where my passions take me…" Her lips felt dry, and she quickly licked them. She could still hear what was happening inside the toilets, but her eyes were fixed on the lion now. More and more, he seemed to her like… the male lead of some torrid romance-novel! A proper Lothario, moved by a passion that knew neither gender nor social class, disconnected from mundane concerns like money…

Clearly, he noticed the weight of her gaze, and with a faint smile, he straightened up, no longer leaning so casually against the wall. "Well… I suppose I owe you, for taking your husband's cherry…" he remarked, stretching and showing off his beautifully sculpted musculature. "You want a taste of what it means to slum it here in the rough part of town? A passionate back-alley encounter? Then… I'm amenable. Maybe you'll think more kindly of your spouse once you've tried the same dish he's grown so addicted to, hmm?" She couldn't help but stare. Such a… casual offer, like it was no big deal to him. What was she thinking, even considering something like that?!

Actually, the more she thought about it… why wouldn't she? Sure, she'd gone to the altar a virgin, never slept with anyone save her husband – unless one counted the 'friends' that lived in the drawer of her bedside table… but it hadn't been by choice. During her student-years, her father had made it clear that if she allowed herself to be 'corrupted' by 'loose, American morals', he'd drag her home to Russia in an instant – and she couldn't put it past him to hire a PI to check up on her and make sure she wasn't dating or attending wild parties or anything of the sort. After all, she'd done the same thing when she suspected her husband of straying! Then, once she'd gotten married, her own morality – her determination to not be like her father – had ensured that even with the sex being first unsatisfying, then nonexistent, it hadn't occurred to her to get her needs sated elsewhere.

But now… listening to her husband's stifled groans and the muffled slapping of fur-covered flesh against taut buttocks through the half-open window, gazing at this majestic figure of a lion who'd just so casually offered to show her an unforgettable time… dammit, she needed some kind of outlet for the weird mishmash of regret, arousal and confusion that was churning in her chest. "Sounds good!" She heard herself declare, almost heatedly. The lion grinned eagerly, stepping up to the dumpster she was still sitting on. "Say no more, little princess…" he growled, reaching for her. "But you are free to moan all you like."

He lifted her off the dumpster, as easily as one might a child – stripping off her jacket with a deft touch, to reveal the slinky dress she wore beneath. It wasn't something she'd really thought about – just a rag she'd grabbed from her wardrobe and thrown on, but now that she thought about it, it was more figure-hugging and revealing than she'd realized. Perhaps, at the time, she'd felt a strong, subconscious need to be attractive? Certainly, she was glad of it now – she could feel the lion's eyes devour her form, the way her spotted, gray-white fur contrasted with the little black dress.

Then his hands began to roam, caressing her various curves – and she found herself lifted once again, held to his chest, her groin resting tantalizingly against the bulge on his jeans. His huge face closed in against hers, surrounded by that mighty, dark-gold mane, and she closed her eyes while parting her lips. She could have protested, could have insisted that a kiss, at least, was too intimate for such a casual encounter – but she didn't. Maybe because of the way the scent of his chest-fur was fogging her mind, or maybe just because she didn't care anymore. Either way, she met his lips, inviting his wide, powerful tongue into her mouth.

For long minutes, she was lost in the intensity of the kiss. Her hands were on his shoulders, her legs had wrapped themselves around his waist – seemingly of their own accord – and she dimly realized that she was actually grinding herself hungrily against his groin. One of his paws was inching up her dress, bunching it around her waist and exposing the expensive silken panties she was wearing underneath. A pricey article that was reduced, in an instant, to a worthless rag, as the lion's sharp claws severed both sides of it, pulling the smooth fabric out from between her legs. The sensation made her heart skip a beat – she could not remember feeling this aroused ever before, not while masturbating to her favorite pornography, and certainly not in the marital bed!

Her body was lifted another couple of inches, and she heard the sound of a zipper being opened. Something thick, hard and hot was suddenly resting against her exposed groin, making her tremble. Surely, it couldn't be as big as it felt, right? The kiss ended, leaving her panting, and the lion grinned down at her. She had her back against the wall, now, she suddenly realized – her thick, fluffy tail sweeping back and forth across the rough bricks beneath her as it danced and twitched. "Here…" the? ? lion rumbled, holding up what she vaguely recognized to be her shredded, balled-up panties. "This should stop you from getting too loud. Don't wanna disturb the guy inside, right?"

The ball of fabric went into her panting mouth. She could taste her own arousal on it – a tangy, almost fruity flavor. Then the lion shifted her downwards with a grunt, leaving her face at the nape of his neck, and she felt something impossibly thick push insistently against her labia. After that… there was no more thinking, not for a long time. Her delicate pussy, previously visited by one male and one male only, was brutally forced open, stretching around an intruder thicker than her wrist. She was slammed up against the wall by the sheer force of the thrusts, and they did not stop until the tufty fur around the edges of his sheath was tickling her clit. Deep inside her, feline cockhead-barbs – so much thicker, harder and more distinctive than her husband's – raked across sensitive, nerve-rich tissue, including her tender cervix… he was filling her completely, the very limits of her body.

He wasn't holding anything back, either. Each thrust was almost like a punch to the gut, tearing into her with primal fury. The pace, alone, sent a clear message that her body understood without difficulty – "I am the male, you are the female, your role is to take my cock, contain my seed, and bear my cubs. There is no other reasoning." Her response to this signal was to moan throatily into the juice-soaked panties in her mouth, and cling to his muscular chest for dear life. And, of course, to cum frequently and uncontrollably, undulating against the wall and sinking her claws into the lion's broad shoulders – not that he seemed to notice, or care.

A final climax shook her body as she felt him stiffen against her – just from hearing the low, hungry growl that seemed to emanate straight from his muscular chest and, more importantly, feeling something thick, hot, slimy and plentiful flow into her womb. He stopped moving after that, but still held her tight, up against the wall, breathing quick but steady – while a pleasant afterglow lay across her mind, almost like mental white-noise, preventing her from thinking about anything other than the pleasure that had suffused her body.

As her mind slowly started to re-engage, however, she became aware of how much of that pleasure was actually pain. Her back was sore from being pushed up against the wall, her legs were cramping from having clung so fiercely to his hips, her entire pussy was throbbing from having his meaty barbs rake across it so violently, her labia ached with tension as they were stretched around the thick base of his cock… and she was loving every second of it, wishing nothing more than for this delicious pain to continue.

The next thing that slowly emerged into her mind was the realization that there'd been no condom involved in this sordid liaison – not that it would've been easy to find one that could've handled this lion's sheer size and powerful cock-barbs! He hadn't even asked her if she was on the pill, or anything – which, as it happened, she wasn't. Not that she was at any risk of pregnancy, mind – she'd gotten a hormonal implant about a year ago, after hearing some of her friends gush about how it was not only easier than keeping track of pills, but also prevented or eased the inconveniences of periods. Some of them had also whispered about how, unlike the pills, such an implant didn't prevent them from enjoying the sensation of being thoroughly creampied – since, rather than causing the cervix to be sealed shut, it simply prevented the womb beyond it from being receptive… but that hadn't been particularly relevant until this very moment.

Maybe that sensation – hot cum, filling her womb, caressing those sensitive, inner walls – was part of why she was feeling so… satisfied right now, she reflected. The word 'primal' had come to mind when she was watching her husband carouse with the males inside – because it was pure pleasure for its own sake, with no other societal complications allowed. This, though, was a different kind of primal instinct – an older, simpler one. This lion… he was the perfect specimen, by stone-age standards – a mighty hunter, a powerful protector, a reliable provider, with healthy genes that could be passed on to her offspring and secure a successful future for them. That was all her body wanted – why it clung so desperately to his chest, why her womb, fallow though it currently was, so hungrily drank up his seed. It was a driving urge from before social class, money, marriage, and other such complications had ever been conceived – and this lion answered that urge perfectly.

"Enjoying yourself so far, hmm?" The lion growled tauntingly from above. "I hope you don't think we're done already, though. You can tell, right? I've still got plenty of shots left in the chamber…" And, indeed, she could tell – he was still rock-hard inside her, still throbbing with virility, undiminished by his orgasm. Hungrily, she pushed her hips into his, grinding against him – eager for this mind-blowing ride to continue. He didn't respond immediately, though, only chuckling at her eagerness.

"Tell me, kitten… you got much experience with anal?" He then whispered into her ear, his hot breath making it flicker while the rest of her stiffened. "Mmm-mmm…" she moaned, shaking her head. She… had experimented, just a little bit – poking one of her smaller dildos under her tail, but backing off as soon as she felt the first sting of pain. The lion chuckled warmly. "Then I guess I get to take your cherry too! Lovely symmetry, that…" While she was still trying to fully digest this cavalier statement, she was lifted off his cock – her clamped-on limbs reluctantly releasing their grip as his powerful hands pulled her away.

He spun her around with ease, never letting her touch the ground – and an instant later, she was face-to-face with the peeling paint of the brick wall, her tender breasts flattened against it. Her claws dug into the mortar, while her feet dangled beneath her, well short of the ground – and his hands held her hips firmly in place at an appropriate height for him. Something thick, slimy and barb-covered was pushing against the tiny, largely-virgin hole beneath her tail. "This might sting a bit…" the lion admitted, tightening his grip on her hips. "But hey, keep in mind, your husband took this with far less lubrication and no complaints!"

Moments later, she was mewling into her gag, clawing at the wall, tears streaming down her face, as her tailhole was not so much penetrated as brutalized. Not only had her sphincter been stretched impossibly wide, it felt like her insides were being forcibly rearranged to accommodate the huge tool that had been shoved inside her intestines. Short, insistent thrusts were pushing deeper and deeper inside her, stiff barbs raking across every inch of overstrained inner tissue as his cockhead drilled its way in there. Her pussy had been deformed and forced halfway shut by the sudden expansion of her rear hole and, deep inside, her still cum-filled womb was jostled and shaken by the forceful thrusts – causing sprays of hot slime mixed with her own juices to be squeezed from her freshly-used cunthole with every impact.

Tanya had heard of anal orgasms, vaguely. Paingasms, not so much. So she was completely unprepared for the surge of ecstasy that shook her body as she hung there, tormented and weeping. The claws on her feet unsheathed and scythed at empty air as she dangled there, consumed by a pleasure she didn't understand. He was fully inside her, she dimly realized in a moment of clarity as the orgasm again receded – she was basically sitting on his cock with her full weight, painfully impaled. And now that he'd created enough space inside her to work with… he could start pounding her in earnest.

Just as before, his thrusts were furious, unrestrained, powerful. He pulled back far enough for his barbs to caress her sphincter from inside – leaving her sliding down the wall without his hips to hold her up. Then, he slammed forwards and upwards, impaling her fully and lifting her bodily, back into place, to repeat it all over again. Her nipples – hard as pebbles amidst the softness of her breasts – were rubbing painfully against the rough brick wall as she slid up and down, soon lacking even the faint protection of a thin layer of fabric, as the bouncing caused her to slip out of her dress altogether.

Indeed, the whole thing was nothing short of torture, with every powerful thrust sending a shockwave of pain through her abdomen. And yet… that first orgasm was swiftly followed by several more, each powerful enough to leave her mind blank for a minute or more. Was the pain actually pleasure? Or was it just that the pain was good somehow? She couldn't tell – it was all jumbled up inside her. All she really knew was that she wanted more of it. She wanted the lion to keep using her, brutally and unrestrained, fucking her as if he was trying to break her body in half… and the lion, it seemed, was happy to accede to her unspoken demand.

By the time the hot, slimy sensation spread upwards through her battered intestines, and the punishing rod was finally removed, allowing her feet to touch the ground again, she was in a daze from the successive waves of agony and ecstasy, her mind and body buzzing. She collapsed on the ground as soon as he let go of her, her legs far too shaky to hold her – leaving her to slide slowly down the wall until she was on her knees. Her ass smarted as it tried to pull itself back into its original shape – ejecting some of the hot goo that had been forced into its depths in the process – and the panties-turned-gag fell from her numb lips as she panted. She could hear the drip-drop as both of her holes leaked onto the ground.

A gentle touch pulled her around, and she found herself looking up at the lion – he towered over her like a giant, larger than life! And the same could be said for his cock, which she now finally got a good look at, after feeling its sheer size so thoroughly. Still hard, she marveled – standing out from his loins like a ramrod, straight and firm, covered in her various juices, the bristly head stained liberally with cum and blood. Her whole body ached, she noted – but, it was a pleasant sort of ache, like after a really good workout. His voice seemed to be coming from far away as it rumbled down at her. "Now then… around here, it's customary to show your appreciation for a good time, by cleaning up after yourself…" he was saying, somehow not even winded after that long, fierce ride. "Your husband's proven quite skilled at it. Passionate, even. Think you can manage it?"

At first, she didn't understand what he meant – of course, her brain wasn't firing on very many cylinders just then – but as he gripped the base of his cock and pushed it down towards her, pointing the head right at her face while it dripped with rosy-pink cum, she understood. It smelled like her, and like him, and like raw sex. Tasted like it, too, once she obediently leaned in and began to lick it, caressing the head-bristles with her tongue. Salty cum, iron-flavored blood, tangy pussy-juice, bitter ass-slime – a unique cocktail, the full-bodied flavor of the experience that had just shaken her body and soul. The bitterness became more apparent as she worked her way down the shaft, but… if that was what she needed to do to show her appreciation for that mind-blowing pleasure, she'd do so without hesitation.

She was still feeling pleasantly vague by the time she reached the bottom of the shaft – licking around the edge of his sheath, before moving down lower to kiss and nuzzle his fuzzy ballsack. Her nostrils flared as she breathed in his dizzying scent, gazing lovingly up at his cock – still standing hard and proud above her face. In that moment, she felt like she could happily stay there forever – on her knees, soaking in his scent, worshiping his cock… ready to be picked up and used again, whenever it suited him.

The sound of a door slamming open, however, snapped her out of her reverie and made her freeze in place. "Gil! Thought I'd find you out here…" a gruff voice called, and with marginal relief, she realized that the dumpster was shielding her from the eyes of whoever had just stuck their head out through the bar's side-door. "Takin' care of some admirer of yours, huh? Can't believe you still got that much steam in ya after the way you broke in Spots earlier – wish I had your staying-power!" The lion – 'Gil', apparently, which served to make Tanya blush scarlet with the realization that she hadn't even bothered to ask for this fur's name before letting him fuck her stupid – laughed pleasantly. "Just showing a bit of back-alley hospitality. What's up?"

"Ah, well, everybody's taken their turn with Spots by now…" the gruff voice continued. "An' it's not like there ain't a few lining up for seconds, mind you! His tailhole has turned into the most marvelous gape, let me tell you. But, from the way he's whining and whimpering, I think he's just about at his limit – and you've got the key to his chastity-cage, right?" Gil chuckled, and patted the pocket of his still-open jeans. "Right here. A'right, I'll just finish up and come inside in a minute or two, 'kay? Oh, and did the bottoms settle who got to sit underneath him when he's finally allowed to let loose?"

The unseen male at the door barked out a laugh. "Oh yes they did. Fun little contest there! Winner gets his backed-up load, loser gets to clean out his ass at the end… should be fun to watch. Anyway, I'll tell 'em you'll be right in…" The door slammed shut again, and Tanya's tense muscles relaxed somewhat. "Well, you heard him…" Gil commented apologetically, glancing down past the girth of his shaft at her. "I need to go make sure your husband's day has a suitably grand finale, now. And you should probably try to make it home before he does, so – that's it for today! Hope ya had a good time…"

Tanya blinked, trying to get her thoughts in order. How long had he actually been fucking her for? She'd completely lost track of time. Heck, she'd rather lost track of why she was there. But… well, priorities changed sometimes, right? Unsteadily, supported by a helpful paw from the big lion, she managed to get to her feet, and tried to straighten her dress – letting it once again cover her still-dripping holes, and easing her breasts and painfully-skinned nipples back into the top half. Her silk panties were just another piece of colorful trash in the alley, by now, but her coat had been left laying across the edge of the dumpster – it'd probably need to be dry-cleaned to get the smell out, but it was salvageable. She couldn't help but feel like anyone who saw her cross the street to her car would take her for a street-walker at a glance, but… well, considering what she'd just done, maybe that wasn't an unfair assessment.

"Can I… see you again?" The words came unbidden to her lips – or, more like, she couldn't not ask. She'd never imagined sensations so powerful, orgasms so mind-blowing – how could she simply accept that this was a one-time event and move on with her life as if nothing had happened?! The lion looked thoughtful, stroking his mane. "Hmmm… well, you are awfully cute…" he conceded, making her heart skip a beat and her face blush underneath her white fur all over again. "Tell you what – I'll cut you a deal. You put off the divorce-proceedings for a bit, and try to think of a solution to the current situation that doesn't leave your handsome, spotted hubby in deeper shit than he deserves – and in return, well, I'll come see you once in a while."

"You'll… come see me?" Tanya marveled, tasting the words. Well, mostly she could just taste a lingering bitterness, which was making her feel a bit nauseous now that she was clear-headed enough to consider what she'd actually done. Gil nodded pleasantly. "Sure. No offense, but… even your husband did a better job of blending in here. Honestly, the way you strut around wearing a million dollars on your sleeve, you're just begging for someone to mug ya – so, if we're gonna carry on a regular thing, it'd be better if we do it at your place. Just lemme know a time when your husband's out, but not here, and I'll swing by to give you some sugar. If you're gonna cheat anyway, you may as well do it right on the marital bed, right?"

The thought made her feel strangely hot – not just in her face, either. Letting this huge, powerful lion pound her into putty right on that bed, while her husband was out… that was what it meant to be a cheating wife, wasn't it? The sheer wickedness of it was strangely arousing. And as for what he was asking in return… well, she didn't need to consider that for very long! There was very little she wouldn't have given for a chance to turn this one-afternoon-stand into a regular affair – and, besides, the lion was right. If this was the guy that had turned her husband into a gay bottom, well, she had no course to blame him – and he deserved better than to be left a destitute pariah by her vengeful father and the scandal-hungry press. "Okay… I'll give some thought to… how to deal with it all…" she declared eagerly. "How do I…"

She paused, realizing that he was holding something out to her. A card, which she took from his hand and glanced at, snorting with laughter as she read it. It was delicately gold-embossed, very tasteful, and bore the name of 'Gil Iolaus', followed by the title of 'Male Escort' and a phone number – and then, below it, in elegant parentheses, 'Just kidding, if you got this card, it's because I like you. Call me!' "Maybe we can make it a weekly thing, even…" Gil pleasantly remarked. "Just let me know when you find a time that fits your schedule, and I'll see if I can work it into mine." The implications of both the card, and the bit about his 'schedule', was fairly clear. 'Exclusivity' obviously wasn't part of this lion's vocabulary, and even aside from her husband, he probably had dozens of lovers. And she found that… she didn't really mind. Indeed, it seemed fairly obvious that no single femme or male would ever be enough to handle this virile beast.

She listened with half an ear only as he led her over to the gate, caught up in the warm realization that she would see him again, she would get to feel that pleasure – and that delicious pain! – again. "You don't need to worry 'bout catching anything off me…" he was saying, making her vaguely aware of another thing that should have concerned her about this encounter, but somehow hadn't occurred to her. "I've got a clean bill of health – heck, I can bring it over, if you wanna see it! This place may look a bit run-down, but Cherry runs a tight ship. Everybody who comes here gets tested, and you don't get to join in the kind of 'team activities' your hubby's enjoying without being clean."

Tanya nodded absently. That was all good. All good indeed. Probably should've worried more about that, but… all she could think about was when and how she could potentially fit this new, important appointment into her social calendar. A weekly time-slot… preferably not right before some kind of social event, unless she wanted her peers to wonder why she was walking so funny. She'd find one, oh yes… even if she had to move some other appointments. Everything else, even finding a solution to her marital conundrum, was now a secondary priority next to spending more time impaled on that huge cock…

Later that evening, Kian was nursing a beer – one of the 'good ones' – as he recovered from his hours-long trial. He was sitting in the bar-room, on a pillow that Cherry, the doberman barkeep, had helpfully loaned him. It was… much-needed. He still felt all tingly, in all kinds of places – it had been an incredible experience, one that was still replaying itself in his head. Soon, he'd have to pick himself up and go home to his wife, lest she become suspicious at how late he was staying 'at the office' – but for now, he was feeling pleasantly mellow, and kind of… warm and fuzzy inside. He was a regular at the Bear's Den now – nobody looked at him like an outsider, everybody knew which way he swung… indeed, today's adventure had no doubt erased any lingering doubts on that front!

This pleasant mood brightened further as Gil sat down beside him. There were lots of interesting – and well-hung – people at the bar, but that magnificent lion was unquestionably the star attraction, and he wasn't the only one who thought so. As he noticed Gil's concerned expression, though, the mood darkened. Somehow, he had a feeling he wouldn't like what the lion was about to tell him. "Look, Kian…" he started – he was about the only one who actually used his name, rather than just calling him 'Spots'. "…there's something I've been meaning to tell ya. Probably should've done so sooner, but… we were planning this whole thing today, and I didn't wanna sour it…"

Apparently, a few days ago, Gil had caught what he described as a 'paparazzi-type' outside the bar. "I sent him packing, without his camera…" the big lion assured him, his brow wrinkling. "We've had his sort poking around before, but not recently. And quite honestly, you're the only one here that they might be looking for. Considering that you clearly don't want to get caught here… well, I doubt scaring off one bottom-feeder is gonna deter the rest. The next one might just plant himself with a telephoto-lens, somewhere we'll never notice him, and settle for snapping a picture of you staggering bow-legged out of the door instead of trying to peep in the windows and risking getting himself caught."

The happy, fluffy feeling in Kian's chest vanished like dew under the midday sun, and he found himself slumping over the table. "So… you're saying I have to… stay away from here?" He couldn't quite keep his voice from trembling. This run-down bar, with its colorful selection of rough types and rent-boys, was the first place he'd ever felt like he could be himself. Gil sighed, and nodded glumly. "If you wanna keep your… preferences secret, I don't think you've got any choice."

Something was starting to sting in the corners of Kian's eyes. His breathing was shaky and shuddery all of a sudden. What… what could he do? Find another, less notorious place elsewhere, until journalists started sniffing about there, too? It wouldn't be the same, even if he could find one – there'd be no Gil, for starters! Just as he felt like he was about to burst into tears, however, the lion's heavy paw landed comfortingly on his shoulder. "Come now, don't take it so hard…" the big feline rumbled, flashing him a friendly smile. "You think I'm just gonna leave you in the lurch? I dunno if it'll make up for losing this lovely place, but… if you like, I could come see you sometime."

"See… me?" Kian asked dumbly, blinking as the idea permeated his tired mind. Gil nodded readily. "Sure – nobody's following me around or cares where I go, after all. And if anybody notices me visiting your mansion, or whatever you live in, you can just tell 'em I'm the pool-boy or something!" The big lion was grinning mischievously at the thought of that. "Just need a time when your wife's not around – think you can figure something out?" Kian was nodded eagerly even before Gil had started talking. "I'll figure something out! For sure!" He declared brashly. Tanya had a busy social schedule, after all – she didn't work, being an heiress and all, but she attended all kinds of functions and events.

A slight spike of guilt struck his heart as he considered what he was doing – inviting his male lover into his marital home, with his wife none the wiser! But… it seemed the only way he could stay in touch with this marvelous creature, and the thought of losing that connection didn't bear considering. "How… uh, how would I get in touch with you?" He hesitantly asked, only to blink as Gil handed him a card with a broad grin. Reading it gave him more of a snort of amusement than proper laughter, but it was something – things did not seem as dark or desperate as they had just a few minutes ago. "I'll call you, then." He confidently concluded, nodding firmly.

Tanya sat nervously on the foyer chair, drumming her paws on the lush carpet and glancing nervously towards the front door. Would he really show? He'd said he would, so, of course! But… it still felt unreal. That back-alley encounter had lived in her dreams for the past two weeks, growing ever more sordid, ever more arousing, every time she replayed it in her mind. She might easily have started to feel like it was just a fantasy, something she'd made up after someone had slipped something into her drink at a cocktail-party – if it wasn't for the marks it had left on her. Every time she showered or bathed, she'd been unable to resist checking – slipping her fingers beneath her thick, fluffy tail to test the hole beneath. Each time, her fingers disappeared smoothly into the tight orifice, her sphincter stretching around them with ease – and she felt a shiver run up her spine. It was no longer a virgin hole… indeed, with just that slight touch, it always seemed to tremble and throb with desire for the huge tool that had reshaped it into its current form. Just as the rest of her did…

The booming sound of a knock on the door made her jolt up from the chair as if she'd been stabbed with a needle. It was him! It had to be. There was a bell, but a magnificent specimen like him had little need for that, of course. Her paws skidded on the tiles as she darted off the carpeted area and over to the door, pausing only for half a breath to compose herself before opening. She glanced down herself, for the umpteenth time – she was wearing a silken, kimono-style robe, which would be passingly decent, at first blush, if it should turn out that somebody besides Gil had somehow gotten past all the high-tech security-measures at the front gate to knock on her door.

Then she quickly thumbed the keypad beside the door and pulled it open – finding Gil standing there, paw raised as if he'd been just about to knock again. He was wearing a tight pair of shorts, along with a T-shirt and baseball-cap inscribed with "Bob's Pool-Cleaning Service" in bold letter, and even carrying a sports-bag over his shoulder to complete the look. He grinned mischievously down at her as she took in his appearance – though, honestly, more than the 'disguise', she was just marveling once again at his sheer size. She'd always thought the front door was stupidly oversized, but he actually had to stoop a bit to get inside without brushing his cap against the doorframe. Apparently, he hadn't just been growing in her memory since they first met.

Just inside the door, however, he paused – looking her up and down with a raised eyebrow. Not saying a word, but… she hadn't forgotten what they'd talked about when agreeing on this date and time. Painfully conscious of the open door behind him – which, granted, opened up into a rather large and empty garden, with even the front gate shielded from view by trees and hedges – she undid the robe's belt, and let it drift from her shoulders to settle on the floor. The lion nodded approvingly, a broad grin on his face, and reached back to shut the door. The implication was… intimidating to her. Would he really have turned around and walked right back out again, had she failed to keep her promise? Or… if she was to be honest with herself, if she'd failed to follow his orders?

Well, she had done as she was told – in fact, she'd done one better. He'd instructed her to be wearing 'her sexiest lingerie' when greeting him, but going through her drawers, she'd been unable to find anything that really fit the bill. Erotic, certainly – but 'sexy'? Not really. Not by the kind of depraved and perverted standards he'd introduced her to. So, she'd gone out of her way to get something, from a rather exclusive, expensive, and naughty store that she knew of – just for him. It was… windy, to say the least. The frilly panties were open front and back, and the top had vertical slits in each bra-cup to let her nipples poke through. She couldn't be any more on display, any more clearly available, if she tried.

"Nice to see you again, kitty…" Gil remarked as he took in this rather exposed display. "All of you, even!" One paw reached down, lifting her chin with a single finger and making her blush with both a sense of intimacy and a reminder that he, not she, was in control here. Her heart beat fast, but it calmed somewhat when the lion stood up straight again and looked around curiously. "Nice place you've got here, too!" he remarked, casually walking past her into the grandly-decorated foyer. "I was kinda' expecting a McMansion up in the hills, but this is something else!"

Getting herself under control for the moment, she quickly darted up beside him, and started to gently guide him towards the grand staircase leading to the second floor. "Oh, yes, it was Kian's idea…" she explained, sufficiently accustomed to playing the role of the gracious hostess that she could so so without stammering, even under these circumstances. "He didn't want people to look at his house and think 'just another tech-bro millionaire', so when he heard this place was up for sale, he jumped on it…" even with this familiar spiel, though, she hesitated for a breath as his hand reached down to caress her ribs and hip, not so much hugging her as possessively holding her to his side. It felt… very nice.

Nonetheless, she continued the explanation while they ascended the stairs – guiding, but certainly not leading, Gil towards the Master Bedroom that she shared with her husband. "It's not as old as it looks, mind…" she tittered on. "It's Colonial Revival style, built in the late 1800's by an eccentric robber-baron who thought it'd help shed his 'new money' image. Restored and remodeled with modern conveniences in early 2000, though, so hey, central heating and decent AC! Regardless, it does rather have the atmosphere of an old-world Country Seat, doesn't it?" Gil nodded absently, his eyes sweeping the grandiose edifice – pausing on the large oil-painting that hung above the central staircase, with an understandable chuckle. Tanya had also found it amusing, originally, though her feelings for it had been somewhat tarnished by recent events. It was Kian who'd commissioned it, insisting that when it came to image, you should 'go big or go home'. Thus, it depicted the two of them, in period-appropriate style and dress – her sitting, him standing by her side, quite similar to many an antiquated family portrait found in the Tate Britain in London, though fortunately they hadn't had to actually sit for it thanks to modern innovations such as 'color photography'.

"Is it just the two of you here?" Gil wondered aloud. "I mean… place like this is meant to be maintained by a whole staff of servants, right? Originally, at least." Tanya sighed at this – that was, indeed, the impracticality of living in this mock-up relic. Then again, maybe the reminder that the family depicted in that painting didn't really exist anymore, assuming it ever had, was just darkening her mood and perceptions. "Well, yes…" she conceded. "But, regardless of what he wants people to think, Kian is kind of a 'tech-bro' as people call them these days, so… see?" she gestured towards one of the cadre of state-of-the-art robot vacuums that were currently scouring the second floor for stray motes of dust. "We've got a bunch of things like that, drones and such, that do most of the work… and some cleaners who come in once a week to handle whatever the machines can't. Same thing with that stupidly oversized 'garden' surrounding this place – robot lawnmowers, drone hedge-trimmers, and a gardening-firm that comes by once in a while to do some of the fine detailing."

"Ah, so we've got perfect privacy then…" Gil remarked pleasantly as they stepped through the door into the Master Bedroom. The bed was king, and possibly emperor, sized – big enough, at least, for her and Kian to each have their own side, while maintaining enough space between them that there was very little chance of accidental intimacy. Might as well have had separate rooms, for all they'd done in that bed for the past couple of months, she sardonically mused. Then thinking stopped being a priority, as a powerful paw swept her off her feet and threw her bodily onto the large bed – which did not seem so terribly oversized next to her current visitor, on reflection!

By the time she'd managed to tumble around and get her bearings again, Gil was already stripping off his disguise – dispensing with the cap, the t-shirt, and the tight shorts, revealing nothing save smooth, golden fur and rippling muscles beneath. His huge tool was sliding out of its sheath at the same time, dripping pre-cum and making the breath catch in her throat. Just like the rest of him, it really was just as big as it had seemed in her memories! He didn't say anything else, didn't ask for permission or make suggestions, or otherwise waste his breath. He simply climbed into bed with her while her legs instinctively spread, and gave her what she craved – what she needed.

His heavy body was pushing her into the sheets, her face caught under his upper chest due to his sheer height, while her legs were forced back and spread apart by the width of his muscular mass. This position was called a 'mating press', she vaguely recalled as her labia, which had glistened wetly with arousal since before the lion had even stepped in the door, readily spread before his plundering rod. His thrusts were downwards, his full, immense weight behind them, making the bedsprings creak with every bouncing movement. His cockhead-barbs were as merciless as ever, the impact of his hips against hers was bruising all by itself… and, within minutes, she'd reached her first orgasm, moaning helplessly into his neck.

Many more followed, her body responding hungrily to the return of its favorite dish. Waves of pleasure rocked her mind, leaving her in an unthinking daze by the time the sensation of a hefty cum-load flooding her womb induced one final climax – followed by an exhausted afterglow, enhanced by shivers of delight as his sturdy cockheard-barbs scratched across her hypersensitive inside on the way out. Even once Gil had climbed off her altogether, she simply remained there, on her back, legs widely spread, pussy gurgling as his cum began to pour from it. As her mind slowly started to work again, her first thought was that this bed had never been so thoroughly rumpled, so stained with sweat and other bodily juices, in the time they'd had it.

The second thought, as her breathing started to stabilize, was the realization that Gil was standing at the foot of the bed, bent over the sports-bag he'd carried up to the bedroom – as part of his 'pool-boy' disguise, she'd assumed, but perhaps not. "You know… you're far from the first fur whose tailhole I've broken in…" he remarked casually over his shoulder as he rummaged around in the bag. "It's kind of a rite of passage, back at The Bear's Den. A baptism of fire, if you will! The reaction generally involves some combination of screaming, crying, whimpering, begging for mercy, that sort of thing – your husband was no different, either, though he managed it better than many. Getting deflowered by somebody my size is painful, is the point, and I'm well aware of it." Pausing, he grabbed something in the bag and straightened up, making an 'aha!' exclamation. "…so, other than those initial deflowerings, I generally take care to ease my partners into it…" he concluded. "Plenty of lube, relaxing the sphincter with fingers, small toys, a tongue… or even a smaller comrade, if one is available!"

From this spiel, one might easily assume that he'd just retrieved a toy and some lube from his bag. Indeed, this was Tanya's assumption too, until he turned around and she saw him holding a broad, wooden paddle, one side of it covered in stubby, square, metal spikes, like a meat-tenderizer. The sight made her eyes go wide, chasing away most of the afterglow-fog from her mind… and made her breath quicken with something that wasn't fear. "Now, you…" Gil continued with a broad smile. "…when I broke in your ass, you moaned and climaxed loudly, almost from the word go. Most furs wind up enjoying it after a while, once they've adjusted to the size and the pain's started to fade… but you? I think you enjoyed the pain. A lot. So… let's experiment a bit with that, shall we?"

He gave the bag by his feet a quick kick, making it jingle rather intimidatingly. "I've got a bunch of different torture-devices in here…" he continued casually, walking up to her with the paddle in hand and bending over her prone body. "…I'm now going to use them to hurt you, badly, in many different ways. If you ever want me to stop, say – or shout – 'no'. Specifically 'no'. I'm not going to stop just 'cuz you start crying or screaming or pleading or anything of that sort. That's called a 'safeword', if you didn't know, and it's a pretty easy one to remember… maybe if this turns out the way I expect, we can come up with one later that you're less likely to say by accident."

While talking, he'd sat down at the edge of the bed and, quite simply, reached out to grab her unresisting body, dragging her over and draping her over his knee. With practiced ease, he assembled her wrists and the tip of her thick, fluffy tail into a single paw, holding them together behind her back. She'd said nothing – nor was he waiting for her to do so. He'd simply given her a chance to opt out of the 'exploration' that was about to happen… and, apparently, it was up to her to choose when, or if, she used it.

First came the paddle – wooden side, with steadily escalating force. Then the studded side, same. Then the clamps, tight on her nipples, weight dangling painfully off them. Then the tiny vacuum-pump, forcing her poor, innocent clit to inflate to several times its normal size. Then a clamp and a weight on that oversensitive little nub, now that it was big enough to handle it. Then the flogger, lashing across her pussy, including her already-agonized clit. Then the clothespins on her labia and tits… on and on, more and more, with ever-increasing intensity.

At the end, she was hanging by her wrist from a hook in the ceiling – probably originally meant for a light-fixture of some kind – with her legs forcibly parted by a spreader-bar, her body jerking and twitching continuously as she gurgled incomprehensibly. The weights were still dangling from her nipples and clit, by now gone numb, and the clothespins were being used to spread her labia wide – so that the huge, spike-lined metal dildo could be driven forcefully into the hole between them, lubricated by a generous layer of hot-sauce, or possibly pepper-spray, it was hard to tell exactly how torturous the burning sensation was. At regular intervals, bursts of electric agony surged through the highly-conductive toy, courtesy of the stun-gun mounted to its base. The first shock had caused her bladder to forcibly wring itself out, and her urethra still dilated visibly each time.

She had no idea how long her torment had lasted for – though, of course, there were precious few thoughts in her head at this point anyway. She'd spent her time groaning, sobbing, gasping, screaming, mewling, crying, and much much more – the makeup she'd so carefully applied before this long-expected meeting had run with her tears, drawing dark lines across her otherwise spotted face. But at no point had she said 'no', or indeed any other meaningful word. She'd simply suffered – letting the pain course through her body, not so different from pleasure, carrying with it the intoxicating sense of surrender. With every blow, every stroke, every shock, he claimed ownership over her body, using it as the plaything it was. She could not imagine telling him to stop.

Fresh agony exploded out from her battered cunt, drawing a hoarse groan from her drooling lips. The clothespins had been removed, allowing blood and sensation to flow back into the numbed tissue. Then it redoubled, as fresh clamps were applied in the middle of this 'recoil'. Then it got even worse, as a forceful pull was applied to these new clamps. Dimly, she realized that the heavy, metallic dildo filling her pussy was now locked in place there, held up by the labia-clamps. It wasn't moving anymore, but on the other hand, the shocks were more intense and came more frequently – with each blast of electricity forcing her exhausted inner muscles to clamp down on the spiky dildo.

"Two hours of this, and still no signs of breaking…" she heard his voice sigh, behind her now. She hadn't been able to see clearly for a while – her eyes refused to focus properly, leaving everything in a fog. "I'm running out of toys, ideas, and time. I guess we'll just have to finish this in suitable style!" A couple of fingers were rubbing her tailhole – which had received its share of torture already, and was rather sore – with something oily. Stretching her battered sphincter, working the oil into the whole opening, while also relaxing the tiny hole. Of course, no amount of massage could stop it from scrunching up fiercely every time another burst of electro-torture tore through her abdomen…

At first, the entry of his cock – painfully thick, barbed, unrelenting, and provided with no lubrication save what had been applied to the hole itself – seemed like just another spot of torture. Another bright spot of pain on a body already gleaming with them. But, bit by bit, as it drove powerfully into her rear, lifting her up with each thrust and making the weights attached to her nipples and clit dance, that… changed. The sense of something hot, smooth and alive inside of her, thrusting hard enough to shake her body, provided a powerful juxtaposition for the slick, spiky metal of the dildo that was filling her pussy with a combination of burning and electric agony. It hurt, as it stretched open and brutalized her already-sore tailhole, but it also brought… something else with it.

Tanya was, in fact, a true masochist, and fully capable of reaching a pure 'paingasm', getting off on agony and torment – but not, it seemed, by itself. Something else was needed, a spark of pleasure, a sense of penetration and intimacy. Thus, the continued and steadily-escalating torture had filled her with arousal and need, but not allowed her to reach a climax – until now. As Gil fucked her tailhole – one paw controlling her bouncing hips, the other gripping and painfully squeezing one of her full tits, while the nipple, the clamp, and its dangling weight, emerged from between his fingers – the pleasure acted as the long-awaited catalyst, making all of the pain and suffering ball up together in her guts.

She reached her climax well before he did. It was blinding, overwhelming, all-consuming – and in an instant, turned all the pain wracking her body into yet more pleasure. Her right breast throbbed with ecstasy between his fingers, thanks to the recent, and rather brutal, removal of the dozen or so clothespins that had previously lined it. Several different shades of pleasure were radiating out from her pussy. Her clit was a bright star of it, pumped up as it was – dancing and jerking as each violent thrust made the weight clamped onto it swing around. And with such overwhelming stimuli, all piled together… there was no coming down from that peak. Eyes wide and tearful, mouth gaping as another clamped weight swung from her tongue, she stared into eternity – caught in a continuous, mind-obliterating orgasm for the ten minutes or so it took Gil to finish inside her continuously-spamming ass.

Only when he'd shot his load and pulled out, his well-developed cock-barbs sending fresh shivers of pleasure through her on the way out, did the overwhelming ecstasy finally start to abate. The orgasm ended, she slipped smoothly into the afterglow despite the many pains of her battered body… at which point her overheated mind decided that this was quite enough for one day, and clocked out early. Her heavily-tensed body sagged into unconsciousness, even as tremors continued to vibrate through her abdomen – muscles tensing under the impact of electric shocks, even with no orders from elsewhere.

Tanya awoke, hours later. She felt… refreshed, and as the memories began to tumble back in, disbelief. Had she just… fallen asleep, and dreamed up all that depravity? It all seemed foggy and unreal… but, the soreness radiating out from her entire body made it quite clear that it had actually happened. Groaning, she managed to sit up, finding that she was in bed, next to a rather large wet spot, wearing erotic lingerie clammy with sweat – and that Gil was gone, along with his pool-boy disguise and bag of tricks. However, as she looked around – painfully aware that this whole thing had lasted much longer than she'd accounted for, and that her phone would be full of concerned text-messages asking why she hadn't turned up at the garden-party as she'd promised – she spotted a note on her bedside table.

Eagerly grabbing it, she read his roughly-written words. "Sorry to leave you while you were still zonked out, kitten, but I had a prior appointment, and thought you needed the rest more than me waking you up just to say goodbye. Besides, we'll see each other again next week, yes? I had a lot of fun torturing you, and look forwards to doing it again, winky emoji. Oh, and as for the collar… consider it a gift, and be sure to wear it next time I come around, mischievously smiling emoji." She'd never seen someone hand-draw smilies before, but this amusement took a distant second to raising a paw to her throat, feeling the rough leather collar there. He'd collared her, while she lay unconscious – a clearer mark of ownership was hard to imagine.

She needed to find her phone, and send some apologies, she sternly reminded herself, even as her paw lingered on the collar. She needed a cover-story – probably easiest to say that she'd felt unwell, laid down for a brief nap, and wound up oversleeping significantly. Indeed, if she still 'felt poorly', that might justify, to her friends and her dear husband, why she'd likely be staggering around somewhat unsteadily for the next day or two. Worse, she needed to figure out where to hide this lovely collar when she wasn't using it. Even at a touch, she could tell that nobody would mistake it for a fancy choker, or even some goth-coded fashion-statement. It was a rough, simple thing, suited for a pet or a slave… a thought that brought a fresh surge of moisture to her sore, throbbing pussy despite her current state of utter sexual exhaustion. She couldn't wait for him to come back, and torture her again – to feel that pain, that ecstasy again. To be in his paws, completely helpless, at his mercy, writhing and mewling…

Groaning, she threw herself back down into the sheets. She needed to find her phone, needed to change the soiled sheets before her husband came home, needed to wipe up the puddle of piss and other juices that marked the site of her torture, needed a warm bath with lots of bath-salts and foam to ease her aching body and clean her sweat-soaked fur… but right now, she mostly needed to lie there, with the face of a towering lion smiling at her from her imagination, as she endlessly caressed the collar on her throat.

The next day, around noon, someone again knocked on the door of the mansion. Once again, the door was swiftly torn open, to reveal a towering lion carrying a toolbox, with a baseball-cap and tight t-shirt both announcing him as a proud employee of 'Bob's Plumbing Service'. A slender leopard was standing inside the door, wearing a housecoat… which, at the sign of his visitor, he swiftly threw off to reveal leather manacles with waiting eyelets crowning his wrists and ankles, a tight black ring encircling the top of his ballsack, and a rough leather collar around his throat. Other than that, he was naked, his cock already peeking out of its sheath.

Without missing a beat, he dropped to his knees before the open door, bending down low, and kissing each of the lion's feet in turn – breathing in the scent that clung to the fur on the back of them. Only then did he straighten up, kneeling where he was, as the lion stepped fully inside and closed the door behind him. "You remember last week's lessons, I see…" Gil remarked with a grin. "And that collar looks just as fetching on you as I thought it would." Kian nodded, a dreamy smile on his face. "Thank you, Sir…" was his only reply. He'd only had the collar for a week, but already he resented having to take it off. He adored the way it made him feel, that constant reminder of being owned…

"On your paws, then…" his Master commander, and Kian swiftly obeyed, leaping to his feet and following the big lion up the stairs towards the bedroom, a languid sense of peace already settling on his shoulders. Gil was here now. All he had to do was obey, then pleasure and fulfillment would follow. For a while, he'd been afraid he'd have to cancel this 'appointment' – his wife had apparently caught some kind of bug, and been under the weather all yesterday, still not looking too hot today either. Canceling her plans and staying in bed had been… mentioned, and he'd had to carefully suggest that she knew her own body best, and should decide for herself whether she was fit to attend that cocktail-party she'd been invited to. After all, he couldn't just outright tell her that she ought to go despite still being tired, if not actually sick – at best, only get out of the way and let her make that choice herself.

"Think you're ready for another lesson in how a good bottom conducts himself?" Gil asked teasingly, pulling Kian's mind squarely back to the present moment as they stepped into the bedroom. Swallowing, he nodded eagerly. "Yes, Sir!" he declared – eager as ever to prove himself, to earn the pleasure of being impaled on the lion's huge cock. Gil grinned in response, stripping off his plumber-disguise while the leopard openly ogled his rippling physique. "Good to hear…" he declared, sitting down naked on the edge of the bed, legs spread. "But before we get that far – let's check if last week's lesson has fully sunk in, hmm?"

Understanding immediately, Kian dropped to his knees again – this time between the lion's powerful legs. Before him waited the bulging sheath, with the tip of that impossibly-thick cock starting to emerge from it, still soft but expanding steadily. His own tool, meanwhile, had already fully emerged and hardened, throbbing quietly in the hopes of an attention that wouldn't come soon, if at all. It was, after all, entirely up to Gil whether he'd get to have an orgasm and, if so, when and how. Even if it was too risky for him to wear a locked chastity-belt on the regular, that fact didn't change…

Leaning down, he welcomed the lion's barb-lined cockhead into his mouth – carefully gripping the lower edge with his lips, forming a tight seal. He wanted to leave them parted, to let Gil see the way the tip rested on his tongue, but… he wasn't quite ready for that, yet. As the big lion sighed with relief, and hot, acrid piss started pouring across his tongue, he swallowed swiftly, but couldn't help but gag occasionally – indeed, it was all he could do to just keep from coughing and making a mess. Gil had assured him this was normal – regardless of how dedicated you were, it simply took practice to be a good piss-drinker. So for now, he did it the safe way – once he'd learned to swallow the hot, sour juices without difficulty, he could start doing it the showy way.

A heavy paw landed on his scalp, fingers tangling in his short headfur as they held him safely in place – sending a shiver of delight though his kneeling body and making his cock jump between his legs. Shifting his tongue, he made sure that the flow was moving directly over it, so that he tasted every drop before it disappeared down his gullet – just as Gil had taught him during last week's visit. He'd never shied away from putting in the work – not when he immigrated to the states, not when he started his company, not when he sought naturalization, not when he was wooing his wife… and he wasn't going to start now. He'd master this, and whatever new task the magnificent lion had for him today, just as he'd mastered cock-sucking and ass-to-mouth…

"Evenin', kitten…" the deep timbre of the voice seemed to carry remarkably well over the phone, making Tanya's knees turn weak even without the sight, or scent, or the huge lion available. She'd stepped away from the party to take the call when she saw the caller turn up as 'Pool Service', but she still had to be really careful what she said on her end, just in case anyone was close enough to overhear. "Good evening…" she thus cautiously replied, sparking a warm chuckle. "Not a great time, maybe? Well, I'll try to make it quick…" Gil rumbled, clearly catching on to the meaning of her rather cool answer.

"Our next… appointment? Something's come up. I can't make it. Any chance we could reschedule to the day after? I've got a… special treat in mind for you, to make up for the inconvenience." His voice was playful, and the promise of some mysterious 'special treat' was making her pricey silk panties rapidly soak through underneath her fashionable designer dress. Even after carrying on this sordid relationship for over a month, every 'appointment' remained as mind-blowing as the last, with the endlessly creative lion constantly finding new ways to pleasure or torture her – not that there was any real difference between the two at this point, as far as she was concerned.

"I'm sure that can be arranged…" she replied, struggling to keep her excitement out of her voice, even as she mentally scoured her schedule for that day. "Though, I believe my husband has some kind of meeting in the afternoon, and will be home late…?" Now that she knew where he was running off too, she'd stopped paying all that much attention to Kian's comings and goings. Which of his various appointments and meetings were real, and which were an excuse to sneak off to The Bear's Den, she wasn't certain of. Gil, however, just chuckled over the phone, clearly understanding what she meant. "The afternoon would work just fine. Say, three o'clock?"

She definitely wouldn't be able to make that five o'clock charity dinner she'd bought a ticket for, then, she absently calculated. Their meetings tended to run rather long, even when there weren't any 'special treats' involved, and she usually needed quite a bit of time afterwards to clean herself up and get her head back in order, before she could reasonably present herself in public again. She'd learned to schedule for it, making sure there was plenty of headroom for Gil's 'appointments'. Well, that worked out neatly, she quickly concluded. She had a couple of friends who were kicking themselves for missing out on those tickets – she could hand hers off to one of them as a 'favor', while still having an easy answer for Kian as to what she was doing that afternoon, while he was busy at work. "That would be perfect!" She thus declared, letting a bit of her enthusiasm seep into her voice.

Tanya looked down her body analytically, making sure everything was just so. No fancy lingerie in sight – not anymore. The thin fabric had proven unable to handle the kind of punishment she so readily endured, and after just a couple of weeks, it had started to tear. Her orders now were to await him in nothing but her fur – and a few accessories, of course. Hiding them had proven to be surprisingly easy – the mansion was huge, and it was just the two of them there, so there were a lot of empty rooms that were only used when they threw parties – which hadn't happened in a while – and to store materials for such occasions.

Kian had departed half an hour ago for his meeting, and wouldn't be back 'till late evening by his own account – so she'd had plenty of time to fetch it all from her hiding-place and prepare. Now, she was wearing a lengthy spreader-bar cuffed to her ankles, a pair of saw-toothed clamps on her nipples, connected by a chain, a slightly less vicious clit-clamp, with a spherical weight dangling from it, a muzzle-gag with a large, soft ball to bite into, and of course, her collar. The attachment-point on the back, meant for a leash, was serving a different purpose now – connected instead to a wide leather cuff clamped around her thick, fluffy tail near the tip, keeping it stretched up along her back and out of the way. Everything seemed in order!

Dropping to her knees at the foot of the bed, she positioned herself carefully and bent over – she had to be far enough back that the clit-weight swung freely, but still needed her midsection supported. She could feel the chain and clamps digging into her breasts as they were flattened against the sheets, the faint pain a promise of things to come. The plain old handcuffs were the final touch – just a matter of putting her hands together behind her back, and clicking them together. He had the key. She didn't. Another potent symbol, just like the collar.

With a contented sigh, she settled down like this, helpless and on full display. It was still five minutes or so 'till the appointed time, and he was usually quite punctual – she liked giving herself enough time to just soak in the sense of surrender, the feeling of being ready. She'd emptied her bladder, given herself an enema, tied herself up – all but gift-wrapped, for him. Her body and heart were prepared to welcome his cock, or endure his punishment, in whatever quantities he saw fit to dish them out. Would she even still be conscious at the end of this? So far, it'd been kind of a coin flip – though, with that 'special treat' he'd teased, it didn't seem likely…

Distantly, she heard the front door open and close. She'd given him a keycard on their second 'appointment'. It wasn't so much because she was fully confident that he wouldn't take advantage of it to snag some of the many easily-fungible valuables that littered the mansion, but more that she just didn't care if he did. She would've happily paid him a hundred thousand dollars or more for each visit, and if his pride prevented him from accepting such payment, well, he was welcome to help himself to anything she owned instead, should he see fit. So far, he unsurprisingly hadn't.

As long as she rested her head on the right side, she could still just barely see the bedroom door, past her shoulder. Watch it open, and his great, golden form step in, glancing down at her with a smile. "Ah, such a lovely sight…" he remarked, giving her a warm glow of satisfaction. She hadn't forgotten anything, and was presenting herself as he'd requested. The bag he carried over his shoulder sounded tantalizingly heavy and jangly as he dropped it, and she wondered for the hundredth time what that promised 'special treat' might be.

Whatever it was, he was clearly saving it for some grand finale – and she, of course, was in no position to object. Her body was his plaything, to do with as he pleased – which, it seemed, included a fairly standard warm-up. Wide clamps were attached to her labia, then to her upper thighs with elastic-bands, pulling her pussy wide-open and exposing the moist, pink, inner labia. Then the studded paddle tenderized her fuzzy buttocks, giving them a warm, pleasant glow, before the cat o' nine tails caressed her cunt inside and out – providing a sharper, cleaner sort of pain. The sound of the impacts were noticeably wet.

The pain soaked into her body, letting her bask in its familiar glow. Her breathing was deep and steady – it would take a lot more than this before it started turning ragged, and the tears started wetting her face-fur. No doubt, that would happen, later – but for now, this was clearly just a warm-up, a prelude. Indeed, just as swiftly as it had started, it ended – leaving her pussy throbbing as each line of pain that had been drawn across it stood out all the clearer in the absence of fresh applications of force. This sensation was simultaneously redoubled and interrupted, however, when something thick and hard tore into it, penetrating her deeply in a single stroke. The girth, the velvety smoothness, and the viciously-barbed head all made it clear that this was no toy, though – the mighty lion had graced her with his cock, making all those fresh bruises redouble in sensation as they were stretched around that massive tool.

Not for long, however. A single stroke, nothing more – deep enough to kiss her cervix, then back out. Then, lubricated by a freshly-applied layer of pussy-juice, it instead pushed into her waiting tailhole with brutal force, drawing a muffled groan from her lips. The stinging sensation of her unprepared sphincter being stretched to the limit… it hadn't changed since the very first time. Even though her ass, as a whole, had been reshaped and repurposed into a custom-fitted fuckhole for his cock – ensuring that she could feel the fur around his sheath-opening tickle her aching sphincter and his pendulous ballsack resting against her stretched-open pussy as he bottomed out – the pain of this initial entry, with no prior preparation or attempt to relax her tailhole, had remained clear and bright.

She came three times, before he reached his climax – and a fourth during it, just from the sensation of his cock throbbing inside her ass, and the feeling of his thick, hot cum pouring deeper into her intestines. Every orgasm made her body tremble, her ass pushing back against his hips while the weight clamped to her clit danced and jumped beneath her. They were far more intense than anything she'd ever managed to induce in herself, with fingers or toys – though she'd stopped even bothering to try that, within a week of starting this regular relationship – and, of course, her husband had entirely failed to give her an orgasm at all, the few times they'd actually had sex. Even so, she knew they could get far, far stronger – it all depended on how much pain she absorbed beforehand. It was almost as if her orgasms fed on it, or like a rubber band that snapped back more forcefully the further it was drawn – the more she endured, the longer the torment, the more overwhelming the next orgasm was.

Even so, these were plenty enough to start with, leaving her panting around the ball-gag, her whole body tingling even as she relished the feeling of his cockhead-spines scratching across her intestines on the way out. The next part, she… could honestly have done without, but she faced it without flinching all the same, making the most of it. Gil climbing onto the bed, sitting down right in front of her face, legs spread. The gag, loosened and removed. For all good things, there was a price to pay, she reflected stoically as she licked the bitter anal secretions off his cock, trying her best to focus on the sensation of his paw, lifting her head up by her headfur, the scent of sweat and male musk rising from his balls, the sight of his chiseled abs, visible beneath the slick fur of his abdomen. Sometimes, he let her off the hook if she was sufficiently dazed, or outright unconscious, at the end of a session – but, otherwise, she had to clean up after herself.

At least it had never been as gross as the first time, she reminded herself – thanks to the thorough, cleansing enemas she always gave herself beforehand. Indeed, this was part of the reason she was always so careful when it came to her preparations – Gil had noticed her distaste for this task, and made the most of it. Pain and punishment was what she was there for, but he'd warned her that if she failed to follow his orders dutifully – such as presenting herself as requested upon arrival – she would not be allowed to apply an enema before their next appointment. What would happen if she failed to follow that directive had gone unspoken, and she had no desire to test it – so far, she'd been able to avoid such a penalty, but if she ever did mess up, she was prepared to endure the nauseating and humiliating penance.

Despite this resolution, she couldn't help but grimace as she finished her task – the cockhead was always the worst. It had been the furthest inside of her, and the bristling barbs picked up a lot of slime on the way back. Though, at least they tended to also pick up some generous dollops of his hot, salty cum, which helped improve the overall flavor-profile mightily. "Decent enough job, kitten…" the big lion casually declared as she concluded the treatment, carefully running her tongue around the tapered tip of his tool. "But now, I think it's time I started revealing some of the new toys I've brought…"

Climbing off the bed, the powerful lion flipped her over like a pancake, leaving her bent backwards at the waist, halfway onto the bed. With her arms still chained behind the small of her back, lifting it up, this left her groin pushed out and exposed – which was, quite clearly, the point. She lay there for a bit, breathing heavily with growing excitement – the gag hadn't been put back on – while he rummaged about in his bag of tricks, finally pulling out a surprisingly small box. Opening it revealed something roughly the size and shape of a pen, though quite a bit knobbier – the shape was rather like a row of beads fused together – and something that looked like a clamp poking out sideways at one end.

"I had to special-order this thing, you know…" Gil remarked conversationally as he pulled out a tube of lubricant and carefully applied it to the length of the small device. Tanya's breathing, meanwhile, grew faster. She already had a pretty good idea where it was going, whatever it was – there was only one orifice where the otherwise-brutal lion bothered with proper lubrication. "Right. Gonna have to remove this for now…" he then mumbled as he bent over her groin, unclipping and throwing aside the weighted clit-clamp she'd been wearing until then. A familiar surge of throbbing agony spread out from the tiny nub as blood and sensation rushed back into it – only to then be supplemented by a somewhat more novel sense of stretching-pain as the finger-thick object was inexorably forced into her twitching urethra.

It wasn't the first time that particular orifice had been the target of torture, but it was still a rare treat. Gil was clearly quite careful with it, recognizing it as a rather fragile point that could easily sustain real damage – something she earnestly appreciated, especially since she couldn't care less when she was in the grips of masochistic thrill. This toy didn't feel like it was any thicker than the last one he'd used on her, but its bulbous texture made it much more painful to insert, with her tautly-stretched urethra repeatedly tightening in the gaps between the 'beads' only to be forcibly expanded again immediately. Even so, she was fairly certain this wasn't the end of it…

The toy was long enough that she could feel its tip push fully into her bladder – empty, at this time – before the clamp on the side stopped any further insertion. Then, one of the lion's powerful, yet dexterous fingers pulled back her clitoral hood to reveal the tiny, sensitive nub – still swollen and aching after the recent removal of the previous clamp, making it an easier target. This one, though, turned out to be far more vicious than the last – as it closed, she could feel rows of tiny teeth bite into the nerve-rich tissue, both ensuring that it was solidly attached and sending fresh shivers of pain through her. As soon as Gil removed his fingers from it, she could tell what the point was – her urethra was instinctively trying to push out the foreign object and, as it did, the clamp pulled painfully on her clit, essentially causing her to torture herself…

"There – fits like a glove!" Gil declared, grinning down at her as she moaned in rising arousal. Not only were her urethra and clit alike on fire with pain, this compact toy felt a lot like something that could be worn long-term, out of the way of other tortures and pleasures. "Now, let's see if it works as advertised…" he continued, making her mind skip a beat. Carefully, he pressed something at the base of the tiny toy. Nothing happened, save the pleasantly painful sensation of the object being pushed deeper into her bladder, and her clit being flattened in the process. He did it again, to the same effect. Then he did it one more time… and unspeakable agony exploded through her abdomen, making her back arch like a strung bow, her maw wrenching open to permit a tortured scream to tear its way out of her throat.

Everything seemed to go white – for how long, she wasn't sure. Maybe just a second, maybe several, maybe more like a minute? Her ears were ringing as her vision cleared, but she could still vaguely hear his voice. "Right… so, it's hold to turn it on, then individual clicks to shift between long intervals, short intervals, and 'constant'. Hold to turn off again. I think I've got the hang of it now! Really amazing how much the amperage from a couple of tiny batteries can do when it's being channeled directly through the length of your clit, huh?"

She had no answer for that – she could only pant, feeling her clit throb with the aftereffects of the shock. Electric torture was nothing new – ever since that first time, when her masochistic nature had been fully awakened and explored, she'd been stung with stun-guns, cattle-prods and more purpose-made electro-sex devices on multiple occasions. But this had been on another level – the whole toy had to be conductive, with the current being forced to run from the exposed part of her clit to the inner parts of the organ, right where it 'parted' around the urethra.

Suddenly, the pain was back. Her muscles tensed, a cry of pain escaped her lips once more – then it vanished, having been there for just a fraction of a second. It wasn't as bad like that… but it still felt like someone had just kicked her right in the clit, with a steel-toed work-boot and significant force. "It's on 'short intervals' now…" Gil remarked as she gasped and panted, already anticipating the next shock. "Which probably makes this a good time to test that other thing I brought. I know we've got the house to ourselves, but damn you're a loud kitten!"

The 'other thing' turned out to be a gag – but a different one from the usual ones she wore. It was inflatable, expanding inside her muzzle as Gil steadily pumped on a small ball connected to it by a tube. It filled her mouth, pushed into the back of her throat – all while the muzzle-gag it was attached to prevented her from opening her jaws further, by way of a tight leather strap. Her nostrils flared as she struggled to breathe purely through them – usually, she could draw in air at the corners of her mouth, even with a ball-gag in place, and sometimes she got to wear a hollow one with lots of holes in it, for more intense scenes. This one let nothing pass – and when the next shock hit, once again striking like a solid kick to her most sensitive place – the only sound that escaped her was a faint groan, vibrating out from her throat.

It was… another powerful symbol, she thought faintly, her mind growing dull. She could breathe, sure, but it was hard to get enough oxygen like this, excited as she was. The very breath in her body was his to control… and her voice? She had none. There was no room for pleading or begging for mercy, and the time to say 'no' had come and gone a month ago. She'd set no limits, barred nothing, preferring the sense of excitement that came from total surrender into his powerful paws – making the deliberate choice not to set a 'safeword'. Using something like that, even while wearing an ordinary gag, was entirely possible – or so he'd assured her. Most picked short, simple words that could be mumbled and understood even under such circumstances, and some arranged for nonverbal signals that could be made with paws, tail or ears. But this gag… it was the realization of her decision not to bother. The reduction of her slender, voluptuous body into a mute toy that he could do with as he pleased, for as long as he pleased.

For a while, that was exactly what happened. He toyed with her body freely, tormenting her in various ways, using her holes as it suited him. A by now familiar capsaicin-oil was massaged into her nipples and areolas, making them burn continuously. A whip caressed her breasts and buttocks with a lot more impact and emphasis than during the earlier warm-up, with every stroke drawing a clear, distinct line of pain across her body. A hollow metal dildo coated in silicon-rubber filled her pussy and was then injected with a burst of liquid nitrogen from a can, cooling it down to the point where its entire surface became pure agony to the touch, threatening to freeze solid her lubricating juices. His huge tool invaded her ass again, but this time he was wearing a cock-ring with sharp, upturned spikes that imprinted themselves painfully on her already-aching sphincter with every thrust.

All of those things were familiar torments – but enhanced, elevated to a new level, by the combination of the sense of helplessness that the inflatable gag brought, and the regularly-spaced bursts of pure agony exploding through her clit, undiminished by repetition. Of course, the slight vagueness of her mind, brought on by her continuous shortness of breath, probably helped a bit too. Despite the continuous torture, her body was fully relaxed – putty in his hands, no resistance offered to whatever repositioning or further assault on her most sensitive parts he desired. She'd fully internalized her helplessness, letting the pain flow through her without allowing it to move her…

It was only when he started fucking her that she began to respond. The ice-cold dildo was still inside her pussy, turning the whole thing into a throbbing slab of biting agony as it slowly warmed up, and the spiked cock-ring was being slammed into her sphincter with enough force to pierce deep into it… but none of it mattered, next to the sensation of his cock, thick and hard, plundering her ass once more. It was like a key, opening a door beyond which all pain became pleasure, once it was inserted deep in her 'lock' and vigorously turned. The first orgasm very nearly knocked her out, especially when the next clit-shock hit during it, exploding across her mind as a bright star of sheer ecstasy – and several more followed, before she was graced with another load of hot lion-cum deep in her bowels.

She was thoroughly dazed at that point, barely conscious and floating in a place between dream, afterglow and euphoria – a place she was, by now, somewhat familiar with, but always longed to return to. As an added bonus, she dizzily noted while she struggled to get her eyes to focus on the golden blob standing over her, it did not seem like she'd be called upon to clean up after herself this time – whether due to her current state, or just because that would require the removal of the inflated gag. She was fairly certain that the movement she was seeing, was him wiping his cock down with a wet-nap. "Hmm… yes, just about time…" she dimly heard him remark, as if from the far end of a tunnel. It… didn't actually feel like he was talking to her, though.

Her body was being propped up and manipulated. She let it happen, relaxing into his soft paws as he deftly moved her limbs around, loosening this, tightening that – while continuing to enjoy the occasional jolt of brief, yet sharp pain that radiated out from her clit every time the toy embedded in her urethra triggered. They seemed to be farther apart – had he changed the setting to 'long interval'? Well, that was for him to choose. She had no say in the matter – he could switch it to 'constant' and leave her writhing in abject agony if he so chose. That… was the point of all this, wasn't it?

Slowly, her mind cleared, and she became more aware of her current situation. The gag was still in place, some weights had been added to the chain connecting her nipple-clamps… the spreader-bar between her ankles was gone, though, and they were now instead connected directly together. The bar was now holding her knees apart instead, and the handcuff locking down her wrists seemed to have been attached to the ankle-restraints somehow. All together, it left her in a kneeling position, currently atop the bed – stable enough to remain thus even while slumped over limply, as she'd been for the past few minutes.

"With me again, are you?" Gil commented brightly, smiling down at her and giving her a pat on the head. He always seemed to notice when her post-orgasmic reverie gave way to actual thought again – maybe her eyes started focusing again? She could certainly see him properly again, now – still hard and erect, still huge and magnificent… "Good – 'cuz the real surprise is coming up now!" he continued, grin widening. "The new toys are just toys, after all. This next bit – that's going to be an entirely new experience for you…"

A shudder of excitement and arousal ran through her. All that… the pain that kept throbbing through her clit and stretched-open peehole, the way the gag had so thoroughly silenced her, it was still just part of the warm-up?! If it got better than this… she'd definitely be unconscious by the end of it. Not that she minded, of course – there was a certain thrill in waking up and wondering what he'd been doing to her body while she was out cold. Sometimes, like the first time, he left a note. At other times, she woke up to find toys still embedded in her body, clamps or clothespins still attached to sensitive parts… providing her with a 'dessert' of pain as she removed them. Plus… it saved her from that jolt of loss, longing and regret that she otherwise felt every time she watched him walk out the door. It had started to dawn on her that she truly wanted nothing more than for him to simply stay – to be his plaything every moment of every day, rather than just a few hours once per week. But… she wasn't a fool or a child. Her situation, her circumstances, made such an idea impossible – and he was obviously a free spirit with numerous lovers, uninterested in such an arrangement even if it was on the table.

So, all she could do was to enjoy what time they had together, to the fullest – including whatever he'd planned for her now! Though, admittedly, she did feel a bit confused when he simply picked her up, and carried her over to the walk-in closet next to the bed. "Huh! Quite a collection…" he remarked casually as he stepped inside, with her trussed-up body slung over his broad shoulder. Her collection of dresses, shoes, jackets, purses, and so on and so forth, lined the walls. Kian had his own, much smaller, closet. It was all brand-name designer goods, or else custom-made – millions of dollars worth of fashion and excess. Rating nothing more than a 'Huh!' from the lion as he deposited her on the ground just inside the door.

Gil was… carefully nudging her around as she knelt there, playing around with the door. At first she felt increasingly confused, but then a partial understanding started to dawn on her. He was placing her right at the threshold, with the door just barely ajar – and through the crack, she could see the bed – slightly messy, but not as bad as all that, since most of her torments had happened as she hung from the ever-reliable ceiling-hook. "There, that's about right I'd say…" he finally remarked, seemingly satisfied, and turned out the lights in the wardrobe – leaving her kneeling there in the dark, currently able to see nothing but a sliver of his golden form. "Enjoy the show, then!" As he moved back and sat down on the foot of the bed, leaning back with his paws under his head and his still-hard cock lying along his rippled belly – reaching clear to his navel and beyond – a theory as to what this was all about slowly started to form in her increasingly clear head…

She had only a couple of minutes to kneel there, mulling it over, though – it was easy enough to keep track of time, since the 'long interval' setting on the urethra-toy seemingly gave her one jolt per minute. Now that she could feel it without any other significant sources of pain to distract her – other than the aching muscles of her firmly-restrained limbs – she could conclude that it really did feel a lot like a kick to the groin… a short, sharp, almost blunt impact. Was this what touching an electric fence felt like? Regardless, after two such jolts, she distantly heard the sound of the mansion's front door opening – or rather, the penetrating, electronic beeping of the electronic lock and alarm-system being disabled.

One jolt later, her husband stepped into the room – dressed in one of his usual, neatly-tailored and rather conservative suits. Another effort from him to avoid the 'tech-bro' label, with its implication of scruffy headfur, black turtlenecks and so on – a rather silly affectation, she'd always found, though his slender jungle-cat frame did let him pull the suit off splendidly. He looked… surprised, to find a naked and visibly aroused lion napping on his bed. "Ah… am I late, Sir? I'm sorry, the meeting dragged out more than I'd have liked…" he started, bowing his head while Gil picked himself up, sitting casually on the edge of the bed.

"Nah… you're fine, don't worry 'bout it…" the lion remarked, yawning and showing off his truly impressive collection of predatory fangs. "I just got here early, and thought I'd let myself in, maybe grab a short nap so I'd be in prime condition when you showed up! I mean, that's why you gave me that keycard, right?" Gradually, between the words she was hearing and the way both of them were behaving, Tanya was piecing together a few facts. Apparently, her husband wasn't sneaking off to The Bear's Den anymore – possibly, he hadn't for a while. Instead, he was carrying on an affair with Gil, right here in their shared home… just like she was. They'd been sneaking around each other's back, in the same house, with the same lion, for the past month – if she hadn't been so thoroughly gagged, she would've laughed at the sheer absurdity of it.

Kian, meanwhile, was clearly still oblivious. "Well, of course…" he mumbled nervously, his eyes clearly clued to Gil's naked form. "Tanya must've left for that charity-dinner she'd been talking about hours ago… and if anybody saw you, there was always your disguise, right?" Gil nodded readily, paying no attention to the way the leopard was devouring him with his eyes. "Yup – if anyone asked, I was just a plumber, here to service some pipes, having possibly messed up the timing of an appointment…" he remarked with a casual shrug. So, apparently, he'd been visiting in two different disguises, which somehow made the whole thing even funnier to Tanya.

"…but what about your disguise, hmm?" the lion then followed up, a mischievous grin on his face. Kian swallowed, then nodded, and stripped off the luxurious, Italian suit with remarkable speed and carelessness. Throwing it aside as if it had offended him, he bent naked over the nightstand on his side of the bed, rummaging around in the drawer and pulling out several bits of leather. He'd kept them right there, in that bedside table? She'd been so careful to hide the evidence of her indiscretions in an obscure corner of the mansion… though, to be fair, she'd never thought to look in his drawer, had she? Maybe he was the clever one there.

His 'outfit' was simpler and more minimalist than hers, as it turned out – though, the symbolism was much the same. Leather cuffs around wrists and ankles, ready to be chained together, attached to spreader-bars, or otherwise used to restrain him – and a collar, seemingly identical to her own, strapped around his neck. Seeing it gave her the most irrational, unjustifiable surge of jealousy she'd ever felt, honestly worth laughing at all by itself – she'd known right from the start that she was only one of Gil's many lovers, and she'd even known that he counted her husband among them! But even so, the part of her that dreamed impossible dreams of spending the rest of her life as a happily mute plaything for that mighty lion was definitely unhappy to see someone else stand there, just as thoroughly owned by him as she was…

Fortunately, there was a decent distraction to be had as she watched her husband twirl before the lion's watchful gaze, presenting himself for inspection and judgment. Namely, the realization that part of his 'uniform' had been in place all along – he hadn't grabbed them from the nightstand, they'd simply been hidden under his clothes! One end of a black, 8-shaped restraint surrounded the top of his sack, clearly tight enough to pinch significantly – and while the other end had presumably just been hanging down the front until now, it had been lifted up and stretched around the base of his cock as it emerged from its sheath, clearly just as tight around that. As he turned around and lifted his tail, he also revealed the base of a butt-plug, though it was hard to say exactly how big it was – rather than a round base, it had a more ergonomic one that fit between his buttocks – but when Gil experimentally tugged on it, it only made his sphincter bulge out while he groaned. So, fairly sizable, from the looks of it!

"Now, that is the 'look' of a proper bottom…" the lion remarked approvingly as Kian, his inspection complete, dropped to his knees before him. "Have you gotten used to wearing the plug and eight-ring beneath your clothes yet?" The leopard nodded readily, gazing up at his Master with worship in his eyes – an expression that Tanya suspected could be seen on her face just as often. "Yes, Sir… they make boring meetings marginally less boring…" he remarked dreamily. "I wish I could wear my collar just as often…" A sentiment that she would have happily echoed – even as the sensation of a sharp kick to her pussy once again made her body jerk, courtesy of the electrified toy in her peehole.

Gil nodded, pleasantly, grinning down at the kneeling leopard. "Now then… before we go any further – would you prefer your drink or your meal first?" He asked mischievously, making Kian swallow visibly. "I'll let you choose, this time…" The slender leopard nodded jerkily, a blush of arousal perceivable through the lighter parts of his face-fur. "The drink first, please, Sir…" he replied, his voice cracking a bit – then he leaned forwards as Gil nodded and grabbed his still-hard cock, pushing it down to a horizontal position and ultimately resting the very tip of it on Kian's tongue as he opened his jaws widely. "Feel free to masturbate if you like…" the lion remarked pleasantly. "After all, a Bottom should find his pleasure in service and submission."

With something like a choked groan, Kian did indeed wrap one of his paws around his shaft – painfully rigid, no doubt, considering the tight cock-ring at its base. Then, as Tanya stared wide-eyed, he began to slowly jerk off while a golden liquid flowed steadily from Gil's cock, across his tongue and down his throat, where he noisily swallowed it without even closing his mouth. The look in his eyes was vague and unfocused, the movements of his paw jerky… was he really getting off on being treated as a living urinal?! Well, not that she was in any position to throw stones, she sternly reminded herself, considering her own masochistic desires.

Regardless of enjoyment, he was certainly skilled at it – every drop of Gil's piss disappeared down his gullet without any gagging or coughing on his part, nothing being spilled or wasted. How did it taste, she wondered? Sour, presumably – sour and hot, which wasn't generally a pleasant combination. She didn't really want to find out, but at the same time, couldn't suppress a sting of jealousy – he was performing a service for that marvelous male that she couldn't. Nor did it stop there – once the last spurt of pee had run across Kian's tongue, and it had subsequently cleaned any lingering drops from the cockhead itself, Gil simply leaned back, pulling his legs up and spreading them. "There – enjoy your meal! Be sure to get into allll the crevices…" he remarked with a grin. "I worked up a nice sweat on the way here."

While Gil casually leaned his big head on one paw, Kian readily obeyed – his own paw still working its way up and down his hard shaft while he buried his muzzle between the lion's slender, tufted tail and the pendulous ballsack that hung beneath his sheath. Once again, Tanya found herself stunned – the angle she had was just about perfect, she could see the way his tongue was working its way up and down the crack between Gil's muscular buttocks, lapping up the dirty sweat there – before plunging directly into his tailhole, alternately caressing the sphincter and drilling deep into the center. The lion's ass was receiving a more passionate kiss from him than she ever had – yet, the only jealousy she felt was the same as before, the sting of realizing that this, too, was something she couldn't do for Gil.

Or… maybe she could? She wondered, as she watched – and listened to – her husband sloppily devouring the big lion's tailhole. No doubt, the taste was foul – bitter and salty and nauseating – but she had managed to learn how to handle ass-to-mouth without too much gagging, and… the scent back there might make up for it. She'd often found herself almost dazed by the lion's intense, male musk, just from nuzzling up to his sheath and balls – and right now, those balls were resting atop her husband's nose as he consumed his meal. His eyes, she noted, had a glazed look to them, almost like he was drunk – that, she could understand just fine, and she envied him for it.

Any question that her husband was, indeed, getting off on his humiliating task disappeared as a high-pressure jet of cum shot from between his jerkily-moving paw. Considering the tight rings that surrounded both the base of his shaft and the top of his sack, significant pressure had to have built up before that release, which probably explained the way his whole body shook with the intensity of that climax. White slime painted the foot of the bed, staining the edges of the sheets and oozing down from there, while the remainder leaked less forcefully from within his grip, dripping down his fingers and onto the floor. The sheer force of it reminded her of the mind-obliterating orgasms she tended to get after a good punishment-session…

Whether by smell or by sound, Gil seemed to notice this forceful ejaculation – not that it seemed like Kian's tongue stopped moving for even one second throughout it, with his loving 'kiss' carrying on as passionately as ever. Lifting himself up, he gently pushed the leopard's head away from his groin, grinning down at him. "I think you've had your fill there…" he remarked, again seating himself on the edge, looking down at the kneeling leopard. "Now, how about for dessert, you clean up your mess?" It was funny, Tanya reflected, how Gil could phrase something like a suggestion, but you'd still hear it as an order, and obey without a second thought – as, indeed, her husband was now doing… licking his own salty ejaculate off the bedframe and floor, as well as his own paw. "Heh… there's my good little cum-guzzler…" the lion remarked affectionately, patting him on the head as he lapped up the puddle on the floor. Swaying slightly, Kian straightened up again, a cum-stained smile on his muzzle. "Tastes… better than usual today, somehow…" he remarked softly, making Tanya stiffen. He was kneeling quite close to that hook in the ceiling where she'd been hung up and tortured, earlier. Her juices would've sprayed onto the floor during that… was he tasting her, underneath his own ejaculate? Come to think of it, the most enthusiasm she'd ever seen him display in bed, was when he'd been eating her out…

"Now then…" the big lion rumbled, rising to his paws and reaching down for Kian's kneeling body. "Since you're such a good little twink, I suppose you've earned yourself a reward…" A minute later, the slender leopard was up on the bed, in a rather exposing position. A spreader-bar had been affixed to his ankle-restraints, and his wrist-restraints linked by a chain connected to its center – leaving him bent at the waist, arms pulled straight, face down in the sheets and ass in the air as his spotted tail twitched enthusiastically in the air above. "No more jackin' it…" Gil remarked severely as he gripped the base of the plug that had remained in the leopard's ass up to this point. "A bottom who can't cum from a solid ass-fucking alone, doesn't deserve to."

Twisting and turning the toy, making his submissive boy-toy groan into the bedcovers, the lion gradually pulled the plug out – revealing a cone-shape that was, if anything, slightly wider than his colossal cock at its thickest point. An impressive gape was revealed as Gil put the plug aside and, grinning hungrily, rubbed a handful of lube into his long, smooth shaft, which at no point during all this had lost any of its rigid hardness. Tanya watched the mounting that followed with wide-eyed interest – she had enough of an oblique angle from the crack in the closet-door to look between the lion's legs, and watch that thick, beautiful tool of his penetrate her husband's anus, stretching open a sphincter that had just barely started to pull itself back into shape…

The first time she'd watched her husband indulge in his submissive, homosexual desires, Tanya had felt… strangely aroused, taken in by the display of primal rutting – a search for pleasure completely divorced from breeding, and instead revolving around establishing dominance. Even a short glimpse had left her sufficiently heated to initialize a sordid affair with a lion, right then and there – and had likely contributed significantly to awakening the masochistic side she'd indulged in ever since. Now… she had a much better view, entirely uninterrupted, and the male currently pounding her husband's anus into submission wasn't some random wolf, but the same lion who'd become the focus of her own obsessions as well.

This was a very different kind of torture, she realized as she writhed in her bonds, tugging helplessly at the chains that restrained her. Arousal and desire filled her breast, shifting rapidly into need. She couldn't take her eyes off the display before it, couldn't stop watching the way her husband's sphincter was caving in around Gil's cock, only to tent out around the thick shaft during the pull-back. His cock – decent by most standards but pathetic in comparison to the lion's huge member – swaying between his legs, bouncing with every thrust. Every minute, another steel-toed kick struck her dripping pussy, jolting her body while a groan was stifled by the inflated gag in her mouth – it felt like pleasure now, like during an orgasm, which somehow just made it all worse… she couldn't cum from this, from just watching Kian's violation and feeling those widely-spaced bursts of electric pain. And she desperately needed to…

It got even worse when she watched her husband, gasping and groaning into a pillow, reach his climax. Even with nothing touching his cock as it bobbed freely in the air, even with the tight rings around his sack and shaft making the ejaculation all the harder, he'd still managed to cum – just from Gil's cock plundering his ass, grinding into it with enough force to flatten his fuzzy buttocks on every thrust. His load pooled on the sheets between his legs, causing his wife's pleasure-starved mind to veer off on an amusing tangent, as she suddenly realized that they must have both been changing the covers on a weekly basis, to hide the evidence of their respective infidelity – what did the laundry-service think of the sheer quantity of soiled sheets they were getting from a single house?

Not long after, Gil reached his climax – it was fairly easy to tell, simply because he stopped thrusting while fully embedded in her husband's ass, and also because of the way the leopard's tail was wrapping around his waist in a largely symbolic attempt to keep him in place. Just going by the way Kian was moaning and pushing his hips back against the lion's thick cock, it honestly seemed to her that he was treasuring this sensation even more than he had his own orgasm. She couldn't see his face from this angle, and it was probably buried in the pillow anyway – but she nonetheless knew somehow that his expression was one of pure bliss as he felt the lion's cum pump into the depths of his ass… hers certainly always was, under the same circumstances!

Balls apparently emptied, Gil sighed contentedly and bent over Kian's trussed-up form, reaching down between his legs – not for his dangling, cum-dripping cock, mind, but for the chain that was holding his paws in place, just shy of the jizz-puddle on the sheets. Unlatching something, he freed the leopard's arms, then leaned back, pulling out but remaining there on his knees. The reasons for this became immediately clear – no sooner had the barbed tip of the lion's cock cleared his gaping sphincter, than the leopard pushed himself up to all fours and scrambled around, slowed only slightly by the spreader-bar attached to his ankles, and threw himself facefirst at Gil's groin.

He, it seemed, needed no prompting and no time to prepare mentally, Tanya thought with a mixture of arousal, envy, and nausea. The angle she was watching at prevented her from seeing the dirty details, but she knew that her husband hadn't had an enema beforehand – indeed, he'd rushed right up to the bedroom after returning home, with a plug in his ass that had presumably been there since he left. His ass would be filthy – and so would Gil's cock, after having pierced so deeply into it… she almost imagined she could smell it, from where she was hiding! And yet, he was eagerly devouring that dirty, shit-stinking cock like it was a privilege, not some unpleasant duty to struggle through. "That's a good little twink…" Gil growled as he petted his submissive partner, a grin on his face. "Get your dirty tongue into those barbs properly, and make sure my cock is spotless by the time I pull it back out!"

Kian obeyed… well, of course he did, Tanya reflected. She would have too – Gil's 'suggestions' rang out like orders, and his actual orders? Well, you obeyed them, no questions asked. Mind, she probably couldn't have managed to do it as enthusiastically as her husband now did… just like with the various acts of humiliation and debasement that had gone before, it genuinely seemed like he was enjoying, and indeed getting off, on performing this perverted service for his Master. Yes… 'Master'… it was dawning on her, now, as her mind vibrated between the perverse desire to keep watching, and the desperate need for some kind of relief from the unreleased pressure building in her abdomen. Gil was her husband's Master – and hers. There was no other word for the devotion she felt – and it was abundantly clear that Kian felt the exact same. They both wanted nothing more than to please him – and everything he did to them, felt like a reward.

"Looks good…" Gil remarked with a grin as he pushed Kian's head back, having given him plenty enough time to do a thorough job. His cock glistened wetly, free of any remnant of slime or filth – still hard, too. "That dirty mouth of yours is good for something, eh?" The leopard was panting as he pulled back from the freshly-cleaned cock, his eyes twitching. "I am… happy to serve you… in whatever way I can…" he gasped, gazing longingly up at the lion. Gil chuckled at this, patting him on the head again. "You know, that doesn't actually sound much like a simple 'bottom'…" he remarked thoughtfully. "Sounds more like a pet, or a slave, when you put it that way. Would you like me to start calling you that, hmm?"

A shudder went through the leopard – and his wife, hiding in the closet. In that moment, they were very much on the same page. "If… if you want to, Sir!" Kian declared, eagerness in his voice. With a sigh, the lion shook his head, wagging a finger. "No, no… if you are my pet, my slave-boy ever ready to serve, then the correct mode of address is 'Master'…" He replied, unknowingly echoing Tanya's earlier thoughts and sending a fresh tremor through his obedient submissive before him. "Yes… Master!" Kian stated, sounding almost hungry.

Chuckling, Gil patted him on the head again. "That's the spirit, pet… I suppose, with that, it's time to break out some of the new toys I promised to bring, hmm? Stay right there…" And stay Kian did, on his hands and knees, as his Master jumped off the bed and searched from the heavy bag of toys on the floor. No wonder it was so big, Tanya reflected, if he'd brought 'gifts' for both her and her husband. What he pulled out, though, initially looked rather unspectacular – a smallish dildo, shaped after a canine's cock, complete with a bulging knot at the base. It also had some odd harness attached to the base, though it didn't actually look like a strap-on, to Tanya's eyes… and what would Gil need with one of those, anyway?

"You know, I'm always a bit reluctant to let you gulp down my cum after you've done a good job cleaning my cock off… even though I know it's your favorite meal…" Gil remarked as he carried the toy back to the bed. "I like to leave that taste lingering in your mouth, reminding you of your place, for a while. You understand, right?" Kian nodded mutely at this, while below his body, his cock jumped lustily. Remarkable, really, how differently Gil acted with her husband as opposed to her, Tanya dizzily reflected, finding it increasingly hard to think of anything other than how badly she needed to cum. Their needs, their kinks, were obviously different – but that marvelous lion fulfilled them all regardless.

"Well, this should help with that…" Gil explained as he climbed onto the bed and grabbed Kian's tail, holding it firmly while he slammed the toy into the hole beneath, knot and all. There'd been no lubrication applied, beyond whatever lingered on the leopard's sphincter after his earlier ass-reaming, and Kian groaned appreciatively at the sensation. The lion's powerful paw expertly shifted the toy around some, holding on to the harness at the bottom as he twisted it around, plunging it in and out a couple of times.

When he pulled it out… well, now Tanya had a suitable angle for seeing it, though her current, hyper-aroused state meant that she barely noticed the surge of nausea it incited. She could actually smell it, though, thanks to her sharp nose – it was clearly covered in ass-slime mixed with lubricant, but also stained in places by white and brown alike. No sign of red, though – her husband's ass was apparently too well-trained at this point, fully accustomed to handling the lion's wrist-thick cock and prodigious strength. "Now then – open wide!" Gil commanded, shifting sideways to grab Kian's collar instead of his tail. His slave obeyed, promptly as ever, and the toy disappeared between his spread-open jaws – at which point the purpose of the straps finally became clear. With paws as dexterous as they were strong, the lion pulled them all together behind the leopard's head, buckling them all together and solidly affixing what was, apparently, a 'pecker-gag', to Kian's skull. The knot effectively acted as a ball-gag, while the rest of the dildo extended down his throat – though, considering the size, presumably not far enough down there to obstruct his breath.

"You know, I wouldn't risk using this on most of my playmates…" Gil remarked casually as he started moving Kian's limbs around as easily as if he was playing with an action-figure. "It's a good way to force someone to throw up through the nose, which is both very uncomfortable and rather dangerous, as I understand it." The leopard's paws were being pulled back behind him again, the manacles on his wrists connected while his upper body was pulled upright. "Heck, even without the added 'lubrication', it'd be pretty risky. But you're different, aren'tcha, pet? You've done such a splendid job learning to suppress your gag-reflex – heck, you've all but eliminated it!" Some fresh restraints were being pulled out of the toy-bag now. The spreader-bar was moved to the leopard's knees, keeping them well apart, while his ankles were brought together and connected by a short chain. His wrist-restraints were then attached to that, leaving him fully restrained and on his knees, his cock – hard and rigid, demonstrating his arousal at the humiliating treatment he was receiving – on full display.

Actually… he was in just about exactly the same position as she was, Tanya managed to conclude as another painful jolt to her clit gave her a brief moment of relief from the churning need that filled her body and mind. Unlike her, however, it didn't seem like her husband would be quite so neglected – Gil was fishing something else out of his toy-bag, now: An equine-style dildo, actually bigger than his own, wondrously oversized member – albeit with a blunt, unflared tip that completely lacked the deliciously painful impact of his barbed cockhead. Slathered in lube, it was set down on the bed, taking advantage of its broad base – and Kian was then simply lifted on top of it, letting it slide between his chained ankles and up his twitching tailhole.

The submissive leopard groaned around his foul-tasting gag as he was penetrated – clearly, a dildo of this size was enough to challenge even his seasoned anus. Indeed, based on the way the mattress was bending under the toy's base, it seemed like its length was actually beyond his limits, leaving him painfully impaled – with the dildo caught between his full body-weight and the strength of the mattress-springs. Seeing the way his nostrils were flaring, the pain in his eyes, only made his wife's desires surge all the more, though – she wanted desperately to be speared like that! To feel that same pain, to let it carry her towards the orgasm that continued to linger so agonizingly out of her reach!

"Now, the final touch…" Gil remarked, pulling out another, much smaller toy – a long, thin, bumpy rod with a large ring on one end. "No more orgasms until I allow it." Carefully lubricated, the toy was inserted into the leopard's cockhole, sliding all the way down until only the ring poked out of the barbed tip. A groan escaped his gagged mouth, but he was clearly experienced at having that particular hole violated – just like his wife was, by now. "There!" The lion declared, looking in satisfaction at his handiwork. "Now you're ready for the real surprise I've got for you…"

Kian's eyes widened noticeably as Gil pulled another toy out of his bag – a large, metallic dildo lined with vicious-looking spikes – along with a heavy, mechanical-looking base for it. Tanya was intimately familiar with both, though her husband seemingly wasn't – that toy had featured prominently in her first true experience with masochism, and several sessions since then. A number of things could be attached to its bottom, including a stun-gun, turning it into a tool of electric torture – but the base Gil had gotten out was almost better. When activated, it would spin and reciprocate the dildo with unyielding, mechanical force, ensuring that the spikes had a chance to properly gouge at the walls of whichever hole the dildo had been inserted into.

Tanya probably should've felt something as Gil deposited this familiar tool on the bed in front of her kneeling husband, and walked over to the closet – fear, consternation, awkwardness, concern, something. All she did feel, though, was hope – now that his attention was on her again, maybe he'd let her have an orgasm! She needed one, soooo badly. A fact that she did her best to communicate as he opened the closet-door and looked down at her – staring feverishly up at him, squirming in her chains, and groaning as best she could with her mouth and throat so effectively blocked. It seemed to work. "Needy, aren't you?" He remarked as he picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her over to the bed.

The lion casually deposited her on the bed, on her back next to the spiky toy. As she tore her eyes away from it, she could see her husband's cock up close – right down to the bumpy contours of the urethral toy blocking his peehole. Higher up, she could see his face – staring down at her with wide-eyed surprise. It didn't matter, though. All that did matter was that Gil had inserted a pair of fingers into her dripping-wet pussy, and unsheathed his claws. The thick, fuzzy digits were rubbing against her inner walls while the razor-sharp claws caressed them more firmly, seeking and finding her most sensitive spots… and just like that, she was cumming, spine curling and eyes rolling back.

She was seeing spots, slipping in and out of consciousness as her nostrils flared and desperately struggled to draw in enough air to sustain her rapidly-beating heart. Somewhere, far away, she heard fragments of her Master's voice, recounting how she'd become his toy – discovering her husband's infidelity, then deciding to reciprocate with an affair of her own, and all that stuff. How he'd recognized her as a budding masochist and helped that perversion bloom and grow, ultimately reducing her to the obedient, pain-addicted sex-toy he saw before him.

At some point along the way, she'd been sat upright, and impaled on the spike-studded dildo – she could feel it thrusting and spinning now, ripping delightfully into her tender asshole. It had kept the orgasms coming, even after the lion had withdrawn his fingers, thanks in no small part to how backed-up she'd been – but now, finally, she was starting to regain her sanity, her eyes focusing on the world around her again. She was right in front of her husband now, facing him – indeed, as she looked down, she realized they'd been rather intimately linked. The chained-together nipple-clamps they both wore had been shifted – with the two chains now going from her, to him… slackening and tightening as they both writhed.

Tanya felt strangely mellow, considering the situation. A heavy afterglow lay on her mind, residue of a series of orgasms that had, almost certainly, caused her to pass out at least briefly – with a nice, baseline level of pain maintaining that pleasant state. The mechanical dildo-base was still humming beneath her, keeping the spiky dildo thrusting and spinning, torturing her ass, and the urethral toy clamped to her clit had seemingly been switched to the 'short interval' setting again. Was it… ten, or fifteen seconds between the jolts? She wasn't sure, but every time, her body jerked with the sensation of another sharp kick to the groin.

Her husband, meanwhile, seemed to have his own problems – ones that she could only envy him. Gil was sitting behind him, one heavy hand on his shoulder, using the bedsprings to bounce him up and down on the huge, equine dildo in his ass even as he remained kneeling. Meanwhile, the lion's other paw was reaching around to rub his vibrantly-hard cock, teasing and jerking it – with one thick finger thrust through the ring at the tip. Occasionally, he'd pull the urethra-stuffing toy halfway out by that ring, only to thrust it back inside while Kian groaned around his ass-flavored gag. She had a vague sense that she'd seen him do that a bunch of times while she was stuck in a daze…

"Ah, looks like your wife's with us again!" Gil suddenly remarked – as usual, he hadn't missed the moment her mind started piecing itself together again after being blown apart by the intensity of the orgasms. "In that case…" he jerked the leopard's cock a few more times, with rather more energy than before – then pulled his hand away in one swift, smooth motion. The bumpy cock-stuffer followed, tearing out of the sensitive orifice with painful speed – with predictable results. His head lifted sharply, his spine curved backwards, his hips jerked even as he continued to bounce atop the impaling horse-dildo – and a spray of hot cum exploded from his gaping cockhole, with most of it hitting Tanya's fur. Her belly, her chest, even her face – clearly, he'd been building up pressure for a while, she dizzily reflected as she breathed in the scent of it. Thick and musky… not as much as Gil's of course, but still. She'd never really smelled his seed like that before.

"Now then…" Gil declared as Kian's cock began to wilt between his thighs and withdraw into its sheath, spent and then some. "If you both have a spot of post-nut clarity, it's time to have a little discussion. Or rather, I'm going to talk and you two are going to listen." He slipped around so that he was sitting next to them, legs crossed, able to easily keep both in his field of view as they turned their heads to look at him – uncertain about what might come next. "Kian… when I started this relationship with your wife, I did so on two conditions – that she hold off on kicking you out, and that she work on coming up with a solution to your current… marital incompatibility that didn't involve you being socially and economically ruined." The leopard flinched at this revelation – his eyes switching from grateful to hurt as they jumped between Gil and Tanya. She looked down, at the chains that connected their nipples right now – like a symbol of their marital bonds. She… wasn't proud of the fact that it had taken such a 'bargain' from that magnificent lion to convince her not to, essentially, punish her husband for being gay.

"Needless to say, she's come through on the first part…" he continued, tapping the fingers of one paw against the bicep of his other arm, before shaking his head. "…but the second part? Not so much. Honestly, it kind of started to seem like she was perfectly happy just maintaining the status quo, with both of you sneaking around and cheating on each other, sharing a bed and nothing else." Tanya flinched again. He was right, after all – she'd been trying to come up with an idea right at first, but then largely forgotten about it as her relationship with the lion started to consume more and more of her attention, occupying her mind at every idle moment. The sense that he was… disappointed in her was causing a growing pain in her chest – one that, unlike the pain that continued to ebb and flow through her groin and abdomen, she absolutely did not enjoy.

"So!" Gil concluded, putting his paws together with a clap that made them both jump a bit, drawing their eyes back to his golden-furred form. "With that in mind, I've come up with my own solution – and it's quite simple: No more sneaking around, no more cheating or unfaithfulness. An open relationship, where everybody is on the same page and fully consents. You stay married, Kian doesn't lose the main investor in his company, and if you share nothing else, you can at least share me. I'll make time to fuck you both senseless at least once a week, and maybe swing by unannounced sometimes, since it's all out in the open anyway." Both of them were trying to digest this simple, yet rather intimidating-sounding solution, but the lion of their dreams apparently wasn't done yet. A naughty smile was spreading on his muzzle as he looked from one to the other. "Also… since you won't have to hide anything from each other, at least, a bunch of new options will open up…" he declared teasingly. "I've got a long-term, lockable chastity-device with your name on it, Kian. And for you, Tanya, I've got both a home piercing kit and enough skill to use it well. And that's just the start of it…"

This tantalizing suggestion made both of them widen their eyes. So much of what they'd been doing had been limited by the need to maintain secrecy, hadn't it? So… there was even more to experience? More pain, more humiliations, that had been withheld because of those circumstances? Gil seemed to be able to read their faces as usual, his grin widening. "Well, then… time to make a decision, both of you!" He declared, slapping his paws down on his knees. "If you both agree… we'll carry on, and next time I come by, you'll both be kneeling at the foot of the bed, awaiting my pleasure. If either one of you can't live with that…" he sighed, shaking his head "…I'll untie you both, gather up my toys, and leave. For good, if that wasn't clear. I don't need to be in the middle of this mess if you can't even agree to share the one thing you both have an interest in, namely me. So – nod to agree, shake head to disagree!"

They were both nodding fiercely before he'd even finished talking. There was no need for them to gaze into one another's eyes, communicating wordlessly, reaching some kind of unspoken agreement – or anything of the sort. The simple threat that he might leave, that they might never see him again, made the idea of shaking their heads all but unthinkable. The implications of what they'd agreed to… well, that could be considered later, in a more sober mindset, when they weren't at risk of loosing the one thing they both cared about to the point of obsession.

Gil, meanwhile, seemed satisfied with the response. "Good! I thought you'd see it my way…" he remarked, slightly snarkily. "Then you will remain, respectively, my toy and my pet. I'll use you both when and how I please, and any objections or complaints from the other party will result in swift and ruthless punishment." They both nodded to this too, and with a grin, the big lion climbed off the bed and turned towards his bag of toys again. "I hope neither of you have any plans for the rest of the day…" he remarked, stretching in a way that made them both sweat. "We're going to celebrate this new arrangement, and it might take a while…"

They were both still too gagged to reply, but then, he hadn't asked. As it should be, they both felt, as they finally caught each other's eyes for a moment. They were his playthings, ready to endure whatever he chose to do to them, for as long as it suited him to carry on – and by now, they'd both openly acknowledged this, and recognized in their spouse the exact same determination. He was, indeed, the one thing they had in common…

"I've been wanting to put this to good use for a while…" Gil remarked as he pulled a long, springy rod out of his bag. "This cane is designed to cut through fur like a hot knife through butter, and leaves smarting, stinging welts that can last for days. You may be a snow-leopard, my toy… but I think a few stripes will suit you all the same!" Tanya shivered as he walked up behind her, letting it caress her buttocks – not in a stroke, but just a touch, like a promise of things to come. "Though… before I get distracted and forget…" he then remarked, pausing to inspect the cane "…I have an order for you, toy. I know you're on some form of birth-control. As of today, though? You're not." A groan of unthinking obedience vibrated through Tanya's throat in reply, even as the first stinging strike of the cane fell on her behind.

It was late evening by the time Gil departed – night had long-since fallen, and the married couple were left on a rather soggy bed, exhausted and battered, aching in places they hadn't even known they had. Even so, the golden glow of the lion's presence hadn't entirely faded – the reward for their acceptance had been as amazing as they'd hoped. Kian was too tired to lift his head, but his fingers lovingly traced the contours of the chastity-device that had been locked onto his genitals, featuring a flat, round plate that effectively sealed his sheath, and a sterile titanium tube that extended from his bladder to emerge from a hole in the center of the seal. He'd have to learn to pee through that, since he'd be wearing it anytime his Master wasn't around to unseal it – and the way it was locked in place was anything but symbolic. He'd never seen engineering quite like it – it was compact, largely made from a light and sturdy titanium-alloy, and the lock used a wide, flat key that both helped keep the size of the device down, and ensured that it couldn't simply be picked open. Forcing it open, meanwhile, would likely require power-tools that you didn't really want that close to your junk, like a plasma-torch or a hydro-cutter. Far more than his collar – which he'd now be able to wear openly around the house, at least – this marked him as his Master's property…

Tanya, meanwhile, was playing dreamily with her new piercings as she reclined on sheets soaked with a variety of juices. Feeling the needle drill through some of her most sensitive parts, guided by her Master's firm hand, had been an almost transcendental experience – and the pain was kept alive, still, by the thick, heavy rings that had been forced into the resulting holes. The familiar, tension-based pain of having an orifice stretched to its limits, was now being applied in an entirely new way – her nipples and clit alike were less 'pierced', really, and more 'wrapped around a piece of metal as thick as her little finger'. Rows of slightly less noticeable – but still rather hefty – rings lined her labia as well, ensuring that they could be easily pulled apart to display the blood-stained pink within, be it with a string or elastic-band tied around her thighs, or simply with two fingers. Her tits and buttocks were also smarting with the lingering caress of the cane, the lines it had drawn already swollen into throbbing welts – but, that was at least somewhat less painful…

In spite of these new adornments, however, both of them were slowly regaining the full use of their faculties – leaving them in the unenviable position of having to actually think about the arrangement they'd both agreed to today, and the revelations that had come with it. There wasn't much point in apologizing for infidelity, lies or secrecy, of course, since they'd both been doing that – but some things still needed to be said. "Kian… are you sure you're okay with… you know… what he ordered me to do?" Tanya hesitantly asked, her attention reluctantly diverted from the jewelry she'd been gifted, by the need to clear the air.

Kian, for his part, was in no doubt as to what order she was talking about. "You mean, dropping your birth-control?" He sighed, then turned his head to smile at her. "More than okay. I know you want cubs, and… well, I'm certainly not gonna give you any. On the other hand, I'd be honored to help raise our Master's cub. With a little luck, no-one will even realize I'm not the father – everyone will be expecting a hybrid anyway, after all, and the exact appearance of such a cub can be rather variable, especially once gene-therapy comes into the mix…" Tanya, for her part, nodded hesitantly. The thought of actually bearing that magnificent lion's cub was… intoxicating, but she was less certain than her husband that the offspring of a snow-leopard and a lion would be so easily mistaken for a leopard/snow-leopard mix. On the other hand… refusing the order was not even in her thoughts. If her Master wanted to knock her up, her womb was at his disposal – and, as for the long-term consequences, well, they'd deal with that when they got there.

---

As most people tend to in the evening, after a long day of doing important work, the Lion returned home – or, rather, returned to one of the many safehouses he maintained around the world. This one was relatively new, a penthouse apartment in a high-tech skyscraper downtown. A keycard in his pocket opened the front door of the building, and if anyone saw him and wondered what such a shabbily-dressed fellow was doing in this pricey neighborhood, they probably just assumed that he was a personal trainer, or male escort, there on business.

The elevator required both his keycard and his pawprint to open, but then proceeded to rise automatically towards his apartment. Within the privacy of the rapidly-rising elevator, a high-pitched voice whispered briefly, making the Lion sigh. "I s'pose it is convenient, not having anyone at the door getting nosey 'bout us…" he said with a quiet rumble. "But I do kinda' miss, ya know, the personal touch you used to get from a good doorman." If anyone had been listening, they would probably have recognized this as one of those familiar topics that couples, in particular, often kept coming back to, simply because they can't agree on them, but still don't dis-agree fervently enough to let the discussions escalate into arguments.

However, nobody did hear. Part of the service that the building offered its wealthy tenants was guaranteed privacy, after all – there were cameras at the front doors, to help ward off the riff-raff, but nothing inside the lobby or in the elevator, never mind microphones or whatnot. Who you were, who visited your apartment, how often and at what time of day… well, that was your business, and nobody else's, including the Federal Government. This made it a popular place for rich, powerful, married people to stash a favorite mistress or two, or to maintain a secondary residence of their own where they could safely meet with shady contacts, prostitutes, or other people that their public personas couldn't be seen with.

The high-speed elevator reached the top, the door dinged open, and the Lion stepped out into a short hallway with a set of armored double-doors at the end. Various security-measures were built in, from facial recognition and paw-print scanner to locks with physical or electronic keys. All had been disabled, and a much more potent security-system stealthily installed instead. One that no intruder, no matter how well-trained and equipped, would be able to bypass. The door, thus, simply recognized its Master's approach, and opened.

As the door closed and sealed itself behind him, the Lion yawned and shifted the bag on his shoulder, walking over to a corner of the open-plan penthouse to deposit it there. It was an odd sort of corner, really. Both walls were lined with display-cases, cabinets, shelves and so on – but for one wall, these were all filled with weapons, ranging from antique swords and a weathered-looking oakwood club, to cutting-edge firearms and heavy weapons. The other wall, meanwhile, displayed a vast collection of sex-toys, bondage-tools, implements of erotic torture, and similar paraphernalia. Some of the displays there were empty – but, there'd be plenty of time later to put the stuff he'd brought back where it belonged.

Pulling off his simple clothes – the 'pool-boy' disguise he'd usually used when visiting one of his current targets – he threw them onto the laundry-basket and sat down, with a sigh, on a sumptuously-upholstered sofa facing the windows – a full wall of glass, beyond which a splendid view of the nighttime city spread like the scattered contents of a fallen jewelry-box. "Tired? You have been working hard today…" a high-pitched voice remarked. The mane at the top of his head was shifting oddly as he sat there – then, something small and gray emerged from it, leaping down to his shoulder, then to his hand, and finally out onto the floor.

There was a shimmer, and the beautiful view for a moment seemed warped, as if the light was passing through a prism or bouncing off a curved mirror. Then, a female mouse was standing there – in fact, the Mouse was standing there. She was just barely high enough to reach the Lion's waist when he was standing up, but short though it might be, her body was also generously curved, and she was just as naked as the Lion. "Maybe a little, Mouse…" the Lion replied with another yawn, scratching his chest. "But we did good, right? You said it was an important step…"

The Mouse nodded, a sharp smile on her pointy face. "Indeed. I'd even call it a crucial step, and as always, you played your part splendidly, my dear Lion…" He nodded, somewhat hesitantly, accepting the compliment. "…you have some concern?" The Mouse asked with a raised eyebrow. "I thought you'd be delighted with this task, just as the Bat said. We're helping those silly kittens…" The Lion shrugged, his massive shoulders rippling. In fact, he seemed almost too big, now – larger than life, more like a great statue of some ancient god come to life than a real person. If any regular fur had been there, they would have felt compelled to drop to their knees in worship, overwhelmed by a being too grand, to awe-inspiring and terrifying, to be merely 'beautiful'. But of course, there were none.

"Yeah… I'm happy for that… they seem nice!" The Lion remarked, but his brow was still creased. "It's just… that whole thing 'bout birth-control… I dunno 'bout, like… cubs?" He shifted uncomfortably and, with a sigh, the Mouse climbed up onto his lap and caressed his chin. "Aww, I'm sorry big guy, I should've mentioned that part beforehand…" she remarked apologetically. "I know it's a sore subject for you, ever since… that whole thing, before we met, right? But, don't worry. You having cubs isn't part of the plan – 's just a trick, really. I'll make sure you don't actually knock her up… won't be all that much harder than moderating that ridiculous Radiance of yours!"

The Lion smiled shyly at that, nodding. "Oh… well, if it's just a trick, that's fine…" he replied. But the memories had already come flooding back, clear as ever, even after the passage of more than five millenia. Yes… he still remembered the heartbreak of losing his beloved Enkidu… the only fur who'd ever been his equal, on the battlefield or in bed. He remembered leaving Uruk and his throne behind, wandering west, just to get away from those memories – much good that had done him! But then… many centuries later… he'd met her. Megara.

She was not like Enkidu – not in any way. Maybe that was what had enabled him to love again. For her, he started fighting again. She was a princess, after all – a wandering vagabond, however strong, could not hope to claim her hand. So he let his light shine forth again, he challenged villains and monsters – and soon, people all around were once again calling him a hero, a half-god, and many other, new names. He won her hand in marriage – he was happy, for a time. She bore him cubs, beautiful and strong. For a time, he believed in the future. He would become King of Thebes, once his father-in-law died, and rule as he had once before – but with his beloved Megara by his side, this time!

But then… the poison. The madness, driven by pain. Then dreadful clarity as his immortal body finally burned through that terrible drug, and he saw the blood on his paws, tasted it in his mouth. He dealt with those responsible, of course. All twelve, along with whatever forces they thought would protect them. Nobody seemed to notice the trail of blood he left in his wake, too blinded by his Radiance, pouring forth like a raging tide by then – seeing only a conquering hero, vanquishing monsters and accomplishing great works. But no amount of vengeance could bring her back – her, or their cubs.

He tried to go on after that. After all, what choice did he have? Nothing and nobody seemed able to kill him. Most had not even the courage to try. He lost himself, for a time, in mindless hedonism. There was never a shortage of willing and eager lovers, male or female. Eventually, one of them convinced him to 'try again'. She promised him new cubs, a new life. Deianira, wasn't it? Her face was… foggy, in his mind, but he remembered her soft fur, her slender curves. He'd taken her up on the offer, but never truly believed in it. She wasn't like Megara. Just another soul blinded by his Radiance, desperate to be near him… every moment he spent with her, only served to remind him of the one he had lost. She'd sensed it, too – felt that his heart wasn't in it. But rather than understand, she'd been driven mad by jealousy. His fault. His Radiance… did that, to people.

And so, she'd tried to drug him. A 'love-potion'… just more poison, provided by a deceptive helper. There were too many that feared him, who hated the way he stole the spotlight, and wanted to be rid of him. But, already, he had adapted to the poison. The pain was terrible, but he kept his grip on sanity, refused to raise his hand against her… for all the good that did. When she realized what she'd done, she took her own life. And he… he had made a pyre for himself. Of course, the flames could not burn him, but it had served to let another name die, another tale end – though those who gathered around it had been whispering, even as he slunk away to leave another lion's corpse to smolder on his pyre, that it was only his mortality that had been burned away, that he had now ascended to Mount Olympus to become a true god.

Twice, he had loved – and twice, he had fled, leaving the happiness he sought in ruin and ashes behind him. But after that third time, with the femme he'd never really loved… she had found him. She had heard the tall tales of the monster-slaying hero, and had come to see the pyre – but she saw more than most, and followed to confront him as he prepared to flee the country. "Gonna run, huh?" She'd asked, her voice sharp. "And then what? Just gonna do it all over again somewhere else? Why would things be different there?" Even then, he'd been able to tell – his Radiance didn't blind her. Her voice was like a sword, her eyes pierced him in a way no spear or arrow ever could. She wasn't like Enkidu, who'd matched him in strength – or like Megara, whose heart had touched his. She was… like him. Another immortal, another ancient, from a faraway land.

"Sssh…" the Mouse whispered, and he was back in the present, looking down at her face – so sharp, almost predatory, but gentle when it looked at him. "Stop letting those memories hurt you, big guy. Things are different now, right?" He nodded, smiling down at her – raising one paw to caress her arm. "Yes… different…" he rumbled. "You're with me now. Everything will be fine, as long as I've got you. Just… keep telling me what to do." He knew, after all, that he wasn't very smart. He could be tactical, he could problem-solve… but his Foresight was weak. He never thought to consider the consequences of his actions. And so, time and again, it led to disaster. To pain, and death, for people he cared for.

But the Mouse was smart. Her eyes were keen – her body might be weak, and her Radiance modest at best, but her Foresight was spectacular, and her mind hummed like a well-oiled machine, always considering every possible angle. She was a deceiver, a manipulator, a puppeteer and string-puller – and she'd never steered him wrong, as she hid within his mane and whispered stage-directions in his ears. She'd told him her story, about why she could take on such a diminutive form at will – not that her regular body was particularly big, of course – and while he didn't quite understand it all, he could tell that she'd never really changed.

In some ancient time, a god called the Jade Emperor had challenged thirteen animals to reach him, in a race that required fording a great river. All who succeeded would be rewarded, and the winner more than any. She, a simple mouse, had been among them – with little chance of doing either. But she had not been content to accept this. She'd manipulated the mighty oxen, convincing him to carry her, and the cat as well, letting him think that he was tricking her. Once they were safely across, and he no longer had to worry about the smell of blood panicking the stolid ox, he'd eat her and then dash ahead of the lumbering bovine to win. Instead, she shoved him into the river where the current was strongest, leaving him to drown – and leaped from the head of the ox to cross the finish-line ahead of him. She'd also manipulated every other contestant that seemed like a potential competitor, like informing the benevolent dragon of a nearby, drought-struck village so that he would divert there to assist, and convincing the rooster to work with the monkey and goat on a scheme to use a boat, knowing it'd slow all three of them down as they squabbled.

The Jade Emperor had been impressed with her ingenuity, praising her for achieving victory despite her small size. All who'd finished the race – that is, all except the cat – had been transformed into furs, granting them an upright gait and the use of hands. They'd been granted immortality, too, and named as Guardians of the Twelve Months – but she had received the grand prize, the power of Foresight, as well as a small bonus from the Jade Emperor. Since she had used her diminutive stature to her advantage, he'd given her the power to return to her original form whenever it suited her.

The Mouse had only told him that whole story much later – but even back then, when they'd first met on the fertile fields of Greece, she'd told him that she'd come from a faraway, eastern land. "The whole place seems to be consumed by war every couple of generations…" she'd sighed, shaking her head. "A tyrant seizes power, then rebellion brews, then a civil war, then a bloody reunification, then the whole thing starts over again. My… comrades, all got caught up in the fighting, but I'm no warrior, so I decided to just get out. You, though… you've got strength to spare. How about it? If we work together… with your muscle and my wits, we'll be able to do whatever we wish to."

Thus, they'd joined forces, becoming a team… and, not long after, intimates. These, rather sweeter, memories were with him now, as the Mouse – having succeeded in cheering him up – coaxed his cock from its sheath. Sure, he'd used it a lot today, but it wasn't as if he had to worry about chafing… and his virility, like his strength, had always been nigh-infinite. "If you're tired, it's fine if you just sit there…" she whispered, leaning against his chest as she rubbed her wet slit against his steadily-hardening rod. "I'll just have my way with you, hmm? Watching you go at those two kittens for so long has left me with an itch in need of scratching, as always…"

When they'd first become lovers… yes, he remembered it, certainly. It was shortly after they'd started working together, down in the so-called 'Holy Land'. There'd been a war on, between the Israelites and the Philistines, and the Mouse had come up with an idea for playing both sides against each other and profit thereby. He'd played the hero, like always – showing off his strength and Radiance to the Israelites under a new name, until they were praising him as a savior sent by their god. She, meanwhile, had taken on the name Delilah, and worked for the Philistines as an agent – specifically, tasked with finding some way to stop this unstoppable, Israelite warrior who was laying waste to their armies. For that purpose, she'd 'seduced' him, and he'd played along… it probably hadn't been necessary to take the act as far as they did, but he could tell that she wanted to, and so he'd gone along with it. It'd all worked out splendidly in the end, too. The Mouse walked away with thousands of silver coins in payment from the Lords of the Philistines – who then perished when the temple where they were displaying the captive warrior, now 'powerless' thanks to the machinations of their agent, collapsed with both him, and them, inside of it. Of course, he dug his way out of there soon after – and they didn't, leaving no-one to identify the Mouse as Delilah in the aftermath.

It was also this action which brought them to the attention of the organization they now belonged to – one that offered a greater cause, a grander goal, than just scamming foolish mortals out of enough money to live comfortably though the ages. But to the Lion, that didn't matter nearly so much as it being the time when he finally found a lover and partner who wouldn't die on him, wouldn't leave him alone again… the organization and its goals did not concern him. All that stuff, he left to the Mouse, and if she was happy going along with them, then so was he. As long as he followed her lead, everything would be fine. He'd believed that back then, and more than three thousand years later, he'd found no reason to change his mind.

The Mouse had already mounted him as he sat there with his arms spread along the sofa's back, reflecting on their long, harmonious relationship. Now, she was bouncing up and down atop his cock while moaning softly, her heavy tits jiggling pleasantly as he looked down on her. She was taking him right to the root, as she always did – after all these centuries together, her body had perfectly adapted to his, and she fit him like a glove, her belly deforming visibly to accommodate his sheer size. It had always struck him as a bit unfair that he got to have so many other lovers, while she just had him – but apparently, she was happy with that, so he could hardly complain. He just made sure that he was always available, whenever she needed a good dicking, regardless of how many other lovers he'd satisfied that day…

Of course, it was also nice to actually let loose sometimes, he reflected as he reached down to grab her wide hips. Her breathing quickened as his fingers dug into her thick ass, and her fingers, in turn, tangled with his golden chest-fur. With a grunt, he lifted her up, then slammed her down again, over and over – carefully-measured full-length strokes that used the entirety of his tool, repeatedly impaling her hungry pussy with powerful thrusts that created distinct creases on her abdomen. His already-huge biceps thickened as he picked up the pace, adding more and more force – letting his desires steer him. A mortal fur, male or female, would've simply broken by now – torn apart by his colossal strength, bones snapping and sinew tearing. But the Mouse could take it, of course. She was like him.

He could feel it, as she surrendered to the pleasure – he couldn't say how, exactly, but after all these years, he knew right away when she lowered her defenses and started drinking in his Radiance. Her body became subtle and lax in his grip, tensing only as the frequent orgasms rolled through her. Again and again she came, as he pounded her pussy and eventually blasted a massive load of thick, creamy cum into her womb – making her already-strained belly bulge out all the more. Usually, he had to hold back on his climax, too, or else the impact of the cum-jet alone could cause pain and injury to more fragile partners, but the Mouse could handle it.

Her tailhole was just as accustomed to his cock as her pussy, of course. Her sphincter was thick and flexible, and gaped into a crater-like O-shape if her buttocks were simply pulled apart – this was, by now, the natural state of her ass, reshaped as it was by hundreds of thousands of vigorous reamings over the centuries. It was only the weight and thickness of her ass-cheeks that enabled it to close at all, basically just squeezing it shut along the vertical. As he started to hammer this orifice with just as overwhelming force as before, her string of orgasms continued – if anything, they were even stronger now, curving her spine and making her gasp for breath. If this brutal anal assault caused her any pain, she certainly did not show any of it – nor did she seem concerned about the fact that a femme her size should've struggled to accommodate such a large cock and all her internal organs, at the same time. Her body made room somehow, and her belly was simply deforming in a subtly different way now, with her bloated womb pushed aside and jiggling with every thrust.

Eventually, the Lion came again – and a firehose-like blast of cum filled the Mouse's intestines, dilating them significantly. Her belly bulged dangerously – the sheer size of the anal penetration had squeezed her pussy mostly shut, preventing the load in her womb from escaping at more than a slow dribble, leaving her body struggling to contain at least a solid gallon of thick, hot lion-spunk. As her belly-skin stretched to the limit, her fur thinned and it became easier to see through it – an eagle-eyed observer would've even been able to perceive the twisting contours of her bloated innards, winding around the balloned-out bump of her cum-filled womb.

With that, the Lion stopped pounding his diminutive partner up and down atop his tool – though, she was still trembling and moaning her way through a backlog of orgasms, seemingly propelled purely by the sensation of being so thoroughly full of cock and cum. Glancing critically down at her unfocused eyes and gaping, drool-dripping mouth, the Lion shifted his grip on her body, and proceeded to simply spin her around, a hundred and eighty degrees, with his hard cock as a fulcrum. An unintelligible moan was interrupted by several cum-scented burps as he pulled her back against his body, letting her lean against his muscular chest without her inflated belly being in the way.

Having thus helped the Mouse get comfortable, the Lion once again rested his thick, muscular arms on the top of the sofa, leaning his head back against it as well, and simply relaxing as he waited for her to finish. He could feel her ass still squeezing rhythmically around his cock as pleasure coursed through her, and hear the wet, slimy sound as she started to vigorously rub her cum-dripping pussy. She worked her way to a couple of extra orgasms that way, as she sat impaled on his lap – but eventually, her ardor cooled, her cum-scented breathing steadied… and with noticeable reluctance, she raised her defenses again, blocking out the intoxicating power of his Radiance. Bathing in it was a pleasure like no other, but… stay under long enough, and even she might drown in it.

That being said, she was in no particular rush to get up. There was a mellow sort of enjoyment in just sitting there, feeling his cock deep inside her, throbbing with infinite virility. With a satisfied sigh, she reached up a paw to caress his chiseled jawline. "You know, you'd think I'd get tired of this after the first millenia or so, but somehow, I just don't…" she drawled tiredly, her voice a touch rough from all the moaning and groaning she'd been doing. The Lion glanced fondly down at her, lifting his head from the sofa's backrest in the process. "Glad you like it so much…" he commented pleasantly, as if she'd just complemented him on a dish he'd cooked for her. "Just don't forget to lemme know if you ever wanna try something different, right?" A familiar reminder, and not one she was going to misunderstand. He said something like that every decade or so, but it wasn't some veiled suggestion that he'd maybe like some variety – rather, he meant exactly what he said.

They spend some time in companionable silence, then, enjoying the view of the nighttime skyline. It was going on midnight by now – when he wasn't holding back, the Lion could spend upwards of an hour just building up to a sufficiently overpowering ejaculation. The Mouse had thus spent somewhere in the region of two and a half hours getting bounced up and down on his cock, cumming near-continuously all the while. His first load was still slowly escaping from the Mouse's womb, trickling out of her squeezed-shut pussy and down across his fuzzy balls to pool on the sofa's expensive upholstery – but he paid it no mind.

Eventually, the Mouse broke the silence. "Wanna go over the next phase of the plan?" She asked the Lion, turning her head to glance up at him. "Just so there's no more surprises like the whole… birth-control thing." The Lion creased his brow, thinking carefully. Usually, he preferred to just let the Mouse handle the planning, trusting in her moment-to-moment directions – he didn't really need to know or understand the larger plan, as long as she was there to guide him. Still… "Maybe just the broad strokes?" He asked with a shrug. Complicated things just confused him, but as long as it was a simple explanation, he could probably manage to keep up.

The Mouse sighed and nodded. "Well, to start with, we need to let the targets get used to the new arrangement – give it a month or so, I'd say…" she explained. "I've got a list of things we're going to do along the way, based around their schedules, but it basically just boils down to letting them get comfortable being played with by you, together…" The Lion nodded, keeping up so far. Sudden changes could be confusing, especially if they came in rapid succession – he could easily empathize with that! "Then, for the next step…" the Mouse continued "…we're going to need some of those other friends you've been cultivating. Might not be a bad idea to start priming them already, actually – just to see how they respond to the idea… I need to narrow the prospects down to a handful or so…" she was going off on a tangent now, mostly talking to herself, while the Lion's face fell a bit. "Oh…" he mumbled "So… it's not just 'cuz they're good guys that I've been spending time with them?"

With a gentle – if slightly patronizing – smile, the Mouse reached up to pat him on the muzzle again. "I'm sure they are… but we also need them for the final twist." She explained. "Or at least, some of them. But, don't worry! It'll benefit them, too. Everyone will be happier when we're done!" Immediately, the Lion's expression brightened. "Oh, that's good!" He declared, with feeling. "It's really nice when… when everybody's happier and better off 'cuz of what we do. The Bat's right – this is much better than homewrecking! Even if I haven't needed my construction-helmet at all…" Such a gentle soul, the Mouse reflected fondly. "Right?" She said out loud. "Actually… I think I'll try to pick out the ones who can most benefit from this whole arrangement, when I look for prospects. It might actually make things easier later!" It was all well and good to keep her lover happy and content, she thought to herself – but in the end, they had a job to do. The Master had entrusted them with this, and though even she could not see as far as He did, who had perceived their final victory ten thousand years ago, she was at least able to sense that this simple task would create some truly massive waves in the not-so-distant future…

---

"Hey, I've got a bone to pick with you!" The annoyed-looking socialite declared, wagging her finger at the friend she'd just caught on the balcony of the luxurious club they were currently attending a party at. "What did I do?!" The rather nervous-looking hamster asked, instinctively backing up against the railing. It wasn't as if she really thought her foxy friend would use those fangs she was currently showing off, but at the same time, they did look awfully big and sharp. "You told me that the Badenhorsts were on the out!" The fox complained, throwing herself at the railing with a pout. "You know… Kian and Tanya, that leopard-and-snow-leopard couple?"

The hamster blinked in surprise, then winced. Being a rather pudgy wallflower of a rodent, her ability to gather and collate the hottest, juiciest gossip in the city was basically the only reason she got to hang out with her glamorous jet-set 'friends'. If she'd messed up… "Well… I'd heard as much, from several sources…" she cautiously admitted. "And I checked – they've barely been seen together in public for, like, a month. I thought it was solid. But..?" The fox grimaced, her pout deepening. "They're here, at this party, together…" she declared, as if this was somehow a personal attack on her. "I caught a glimpse of them at the coat-check. Never mind break-ups, they were downright steamy. She was fondling his crotch, he was patting her behind, and they were looking into each other's eyes with these incredibly naughty smiles on their muzzles… I wouldn't be surprised if they snuck away from the party at some point to bang in the janitor's closet!"

The gossip-hungry hamster-girl nodded in understanding. One of her golden rules was that first-hand accounts were always more reliable than 'a friend of a friend of an old classmate told me' type stories. "Gah…" the fox groaned, shaking her head. "I already shared that gossip with several people! As soon as they see those two together, they're gonna think I'm an idiot. Or worse – that I'm just making shit up!" Such a loss of credibility could be catastrophic in these circles… and the hamster well understood the implications. Her friend was telling her this, as a courtesy. If confronted, she'd throw her 'source' under the bus. Well, she couldn't complain – she'd clearly messed up, somehow. "I'm sorry…" the hamster said weakly, gripping the railing tightly – her voice thick. "I'll… I'll make sure to vet my sources better in the future, okay?" The fox shot her an annoyed look, then seemed to pull herself together and nod. "I'm sure you will…" she remarked nastily, then pushed away from the railing to stalk away. Unspoken words hovered in her wake – "You've been useful so far, so you've earned a second chance – but don't expect a third."

One of the club's better traits, the hamster reflected sardonically as she spent the next ten to fifteen minutes crying her heart out in a toilet-stall, was that it had enough ladies' rooms to prevent queues forming – despite the number of femmes who regularly retreated there to freshen up their makeup, check their headfur, or do exactly what she was currently doing. Still, a good cry could be very cleansing, and she felt a bit better by the time she'd finished wiping down her facefur. Re-applying her makeup would be a hassle and a half, but… well, that was one of the lesser consequences. She'd messed up, and passed along false rumors – provably false rumors, at that! Now, she needed to pull herself together, pick up the pieces, and try to restore her wounded credibility.

As she emerged from the toilet-stall, already opening her makeup-purse, however, she found herself freezing in place. Tanya Badenhorst had just walked into the room, looking resplendent in a slinky, hip-hugging dress from the brand-new fall collection of the city's hottest fashion-designer. Tastefully understated jewelry decorated her paws, neck and ears, and there was a slight blush to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the luxury-brand makeup she was wearing. Had she just been necking with her loving husband before coming here?

"Umm… excuse me… Mrs. Badenhorst?" The hamster hesitantly called, as the glamorous socialite started walking past her, hips swaying with an instinctive, erotic grace she'd pay anything to possess. The beautiful snow-leopard paused, looking towards her with questioning eyes. "Yes?" The hamster quailed, not sure if she could really do it – but, the post-cry clarity was still with her, and this was a perfect opportunity to start paying down her debt. "I… wanted to apologize to you, Mrs. Badenhorst…" she managed to stammer out. "I'd… I'd heard some rumors about you and your husband being… on the rocks, you know. And I may have repeated them to a few people. I didn't mean to spread fake rumors! I'm really sorry!"

Fortunately, the snow-leopard didn't fly into a murderous fury at this – presumably because it would muss up her carefully-coiffed headfur. Instead, she just sighed resignedly, giving the hamster before her an assessing look. "I know there are rumors like that running around…" she remarked with a shrug. "You're not the first one to fall for them, though you are the first to apologize for it, so thanks for that." Looking past the significantly shorter femme's shoulder, she considered her mirror-image and carefully straightened a single strand of headfur that was out of place. "I think they were started by some of my husband's business-rivals…" she said thoughtfully, making the hamster's round, fuzzy ears perk up. "My father is a main investor in my husband's company, so if a rumor that we were heading for a divorce gained significant traction, it could depress the company's stock-prices and put him in a worse negotiating-position." She flashed the hamster – who was already pondering how to best use this juicy nugget to restore some of her lost reputation – a smile shaded with carefully color-coordinated lipstick. "Of course, it probably hasn't helped that dear Kian has been kept dreadfully busy by work for the past few months. We haven't had nearly as much time together as we both would've liked! But, we're making up for it, now."

Once she'd finally shaken off the apologetic hamster – sending her off to hopefully start some nice counter-rumors – Tanya quickly retreated into an empty stall. From what she'd seen under the other doors, she had the room largely to herself for now, but she'd still need to be really careful when it came to noise. Sitting down on the toilet, she quickly shimmied her fancy dress up around her waist, exposing her panties – and the large, strong-scented wet spot on the front of them. Curse Kian for running his fingers over the fresh welts on her ass like that, just 'cuz she'd taken the time to remind him of how long he'd been wearing that chastity-device by now! Now, memories of Gil's last visit were running through her head, and if she didn't do something to ease the pressure building in her guts, she'd soon start dripping on the floor…

As soon as she pulled the silky fabric of her panties aside, her pussy readily gaped open – exposing the rings that lined her labia, and the glistening pink between them. The hole was increasingly accustomed to being stretched around Gil's wrist-thick cock, almost taking on the shape of his tool… something like her husband's average-sized dick, she'd barely be able to feel anymore. It wasn't this gaping orifice her fingers were seeking, though, but rather the point just above it. The toy that currently sat there, with one end well inside her bladder and the other attached to her thick, golden clit-ring with a simple latch, didn't have any batteries or electrodes built into it. It was, however, thick enough to leave her feeling a constant sense of painful strain there, all through the day and night. By her Master's orders, she was only allowed to remove it in order to pee, and it was to be inserted again immediately upon having emptied her bladder. Considering that the toy's smooth, titanium surface was entirely composed of various bumps, bulges, ripples and other textures, each such maneuver was stimulating enough to easily cross from 'pleasure' to 'pain'… not that there was much difference to her.

She hadn't come here to pee, though. Indeed, she'd grown to enjoy the sensation of having a painfully full bladder – especially since the resulting fluid pressure would push the toy outwards, dragging her clit-ring with it and thus stretching the sensitive nub for an extra source of constant, low-intensity stimulation. Rather, she was going to take advantage of her Master's mercy… for he had made it clear that while she was absolutely not allowed to remove the urethral dildo for any reason other than purely biological needs, there were no rules against simply moving it a bit. Like say, in and out, repeatedly.

Deftly, she undid the latch that held her clit-ring against the base of the urethral dildo, lifting the ring free and running her middle finger through it. Stifling a groan, she started tugging on it – while her other paw wrapped around the base of the toy that was now beginning to nudge its way out of the tight little orifice, freed of its restraint. A tremor ran through her as she pulled it out, nearly, leaving only the bulbous tip – designed to catch inside her bladder, helping the toy to stay in place while minimizing leakage – inside her peehole. Then she shoved it back inside with all her strength, biting down hard to prevent herself from moaning, groaning, or possibly screaming.

Masochistic pleasure built in her guts as she tortured her peehole with the heavily-textured toy. The contents of her mostly-full bladder sloshed around as she thrust into it again and again, adding yet more sensations to the symphony. Her clit was growing numb as she stretched it out from her body – though, of course, it wasn't as sensitive as it used to be, just in general. Since her Master had gifted her the thick ring it was now stretched around, it hadn't been able to retreat under its hood, leaving it to gradually lose sensitivity due to the constant exposure to the air, and indeed her panties. By his advice, she was applying a decent coating of coconut-oil to the little nub every morning, which should slow that process significantly, but not stop it.

Slow or fast, though, she didn't mind. Indeed, she welcomed the many ways her body had been permanently warped by her Master. It made her feel like she was truly becoming his… his perfect sex-toy, that was. Her clit growing longer and less sensitive due to weights so often dangling from the ring was only a small part of it – her pussy and tailhole alike had also gotten increasingly loose, suited only for cocks as oversized as his. And of course, her urethra… he'd already made it clear that once she'd adapted to the current peehole-stuffer, and it no longer hurt just to have it there, it'd be replaced by a thicker specimen. There was little doubt that this kind of persistent stretching would soon lead to irreversible incontinence, if it hadn't already – the tiny orifice becoming too loose to keep itself closed, leaking everywhere if it wasn't blocked – and every time she thought about it, her face heated up. Considering her Master's sheer size, it was unlikely to say the least that he'd ever be able to penetrate her in that hole – but just the fact that she'd have to follow his directives for the rest of her life, wearing a urethral plug like this at all times just to keep from wetting herself constantly, was more than enough.

Air hissed from between her fangs as the pain-pleasure mix began to overwhelm her, assisted by heated thoughts about how her body had been permanently marked as the masochistic sex-toy it was. Her ass was lifting from the toilet-seat, her spine curving while her legs spread wide enough to make her muscles ache – pushing her groin upwards and outwards, as if presenting it to a phantom lover rather than a closed toilet-stall door. It had become ingrained in her, by now – never to cross her legs, least of all while cumming. To always offer her most sensitive parts up to her Master, so that he could fuck her or whip her or kick her or… do whatever he pleased with her, really, since it all felt so glorious…

The muscles on her neck bulged with the effort of keeping her jaws shut as the orgasm surged through her – her hand moving jerkily, pushing the toy forcefully into her peehole then struggling to pull it back out for another thrust as the taut orifice tightened around it. A high-pitched whine escaped her throat, even with her lips clamped shut – and, as the climax abated, letting her muscles gradually relax and her bottom sink back down to the toilet-seat, she froze at the sound of nearby voices. "Was that a fire-alarm?" one nervously asked. "No… that would've kept going…" another replied, sounding mystified. "Might've just been the ventilation-system or something?"

From the sound of it, a couple of femmes had come in here to touch up their makeup while she was… busy. Clamping a paw over her muzzle, she did her best to cover the sound of the panting that she could not entirely suppress, and settled down to wait for them to lose interest and finish what they came for. Her battered urethra throbbed with pain as she pushed the toy back into place and latched her clit-ring to it again… she really should take advantage of this interval to empty her bladder, she knew, but she so wanted to feel that exquisite pain again. Her bladder straining, as the pressure forced the urethral toy outwards and stretched her clit… at this rate, she'd be spending the last hour or so of this party in such a state, and it would make all the insipid gossip and fashion-chatter so much easier to endure.

For now, though, she had to pick herself up, wipe the juices from her pussy and thighs, and straighten her dress and hair. She needed to go find Kian, she reflected as she checked and adjusted the padded bra that kept her thick nipple-rings from showing through her thin, clingy dress – let him know about the rumors. They'd have to take steps to deal with them, making public appearances together and maybe some shows of affection where journalists were likely to catch them. The Master had worked hard to ensure that their marriage prevailed, so they needed to make sure it stayed that way. So what if neither of them had any sexual interest in the other anymore? Their shared love for that great lion bound them more deeply than any jeweled wedding-ring…

Kian stirred sleepily. It had been a long day at work, with some very tiresome meetings – business was picking up, new clients turning up, which was good, of course, but also exhausting. He'd gone to bed early and zonked out right away – judging by the darkness, he hadn't even woken up when Tanya joined him. Now, though… the vibrations of the bed had awakened him in the dead of night. His vertically-slitted pupils dilated as he turned his head, granting him the night-vision of a jungle-cat and making the most of the faint light filtering in through the window. A large shadow gradually came into focus, and he sighed with yearning.

Gil was there, his broad shoulders and thick arms easy to recognize even in silhouette. He was on top of Tanya, pounding her hard – thus the vibrations that had woken him up. The elegant snow-leopard had clearly been gagged – otherwise, her moans would've woken him up sooner – and bent double, her ankles chained together behind her head. Her upturned pussy glistened in the faint starlight, and from the scent alone, he could tell that their Master had already dumped a load in his wife's womb while he slept – though right now, he was clearly reaming out her tailhole with customary brutality.

The leopard stifled a groan as he watched his wife's violation. The big lion had a key, and was free to come and go as he pleased, of course. They still had their weekly 'sessions', but he could – and did – show up whenever he liked outside of that too, including swinging by late at night for a quickie like this. He'd never turned up while they had company over – a deliberate choice, no doubt – but while Kian couldn't speak for his wife, he knew that he would step away from any kind of visitor, no matter how important, if Gil turned up and called on him. Heck, he'd debase and humiliate himself in front of those visitors, if that was what it took to please his Master! Though, since the generous lion had gone to such lengths to ensure that his social and professional life was unaffected by his… preferences, that obviously wasn't likely to happen.

He was still watching – his fingers moving under the covers, tracing the contours of the chastity-device attached to his sheath and the base of the hefty butt-plug in his ass – when the Master finished. With a quiet growl, he filled the snow-leopard's increasingly loose ass with his cum, then straightened up and pulled out with a sigh. His eyes shone in the dark as he turned to glance down at Kian – his body freezing under the weight of his regard. "Woke you up after all, did I?" He rumbled. "Convenient. Here – a midnight snack." His silhouette shifted in the darkness and a familiar scent reached Kian's nostrils, even as he rolled out from under the covers and got up on all fours.

It was second nature by now – didn't even matter if he couldn't see what he was doing. He'd done it plenty of times while blindfolded, after all! Indeed, he'd noticed that his mouth started watering as soon as he smelled it, instinctively getting him ready. He felt no desire to gag, no sense of nausea, as he set to work – only a shiver of desire as his Master's heavy paw landed on his headfur, caressing his scalp. The taste, like the smell, was familiar – dank and bitter on his tongue. It wasn't as if Tanya had taken an enema before bedtime, after all… there was no predicting the Master's surprise visits.

"You've really become an excellent slave-boy…" the big lion quietly remarked. "Watching me fuck your wife, then stepping up to clean my cock when I'm done." He moaned quietly in reply, between lavishing licks and kisses on his Master's wrist-thick tool. He didn't have his wife's masochistic edge, but these acts of submission, surrendering everything he had – his wife included – to a bigger, fitter male… this was what he treasured more than anything. Indeed, a familiar ache was radiating out from his groin as his cock struggled to harden and emerge from its sheathe, only to be prevented by the chastity-device.

"How long has it been since I last let you cum, pet?" his Master asked pleasantly as he slowly worked his way down towards the root of the lion's magnificent shaft, careful to cover every bit of silky-smooth skin with his saliva. "Three weeks… and two days…" he gasped, between licks. The lion chuckled. "Oh? Your prostate must be quite swollen and sore by now… no wonder you writhed so marvelously last time I fucked you!" Kian shivered in response. He remembered it well, indeed… that aching sense of internal pressure. That overwhelming need to cum, filling his whole abdomen – yet, being unable to do so. The beast between his legs was safely caged, after all – locked behind a metal plate, pierced by a tube that ran clear through to his bladder. There was no relief to be had, until his Master decided otherwise…

"So, by our next appointment, it'll be four weeks…" Gil continued thoughtfully as Kian finished his sanitary task, running his tongue all around the edges of his sheath. "Well, hang in there, pet. If you do well, I might let you have some relief by then!" The leopard bowed his head in gratitude, feeling a sting of regret as the paw left his head. He ached for that touch, even more than he ached for relief. "Thank you, Master… I will endeavor not to disappoint you…" he mumbled quietly. "I would be grateful for the chance, of course, but I will endure for as long as you wish me to." It was funny, really, he reflected. On the one hand, he desperately needed to cum – but, on the other, the longer this denial continued, the more deeply he felt his state of submission. Every day that passed without relief, peeing through a tube, was another act of devotion towards his Master.

"As it should be…" the big lion remarked, then glanced behind him. "Ah, and as for your wife… you can untie her at dawn. She's just a sex-toy, after all, so she should have no issue with sleeping like that." A muffled groan could be heard in reply as Gil climbed off the bed and, without another word, left the room, and shortly afterwards the house – his 'business' done. With a better view, now, Kian's light-sensitive eyes could pick out the fact that Tanya's wrists had been chained to her labia-rings, keeping her paws in place to part her buttocks for their Master's cock. There were also taut chains running between her nipples and her clit, further serving to keep her in this scrunched-up position.

"Well, you heard the Master…" he whispered, slipping back under his covers. "I'll remove the restraints tomorrow – and don't worry, I'll start with the tit-to-clit chains! Sleep well, honey…" It wasn't lost on him that this position ensured that the lion's cum would remain pooled in her womb, either. How much longer before she got pregnant? He wasn't exactly tracking his wife's periods, but he did know that she'd had her contraceptive implant removed, as ordered. Nor had it escaped his notice that she was cumming more vigorously than ever, when the Master saw fit to blow his load in her pussy – even if she hadn't been primed by a round of vicious torture. Honestly, he envied her – getting to bear the Master's cubs was a service he could never hope to render, after all!

Both of them kept their schedules clear on Saturdays. No meetings, no dinners, no parties or concerts or anything – no matter who asked. If pressed they both stuck to the same story, explaining how they'd determined that it was important for their relationship to take some time out of each week for each other, and that accepting any kind of engagement on that day would be the same as considering it more important than their beloved spouse. The fact that they were usually seen at some exclusive restaurant each Saturday morning, eating brunch together, helped back this up – and the whole thing quashed any lingering rumors about their marriage being on the rocks. Many of their friends indeed commented about how heartwarming their mutual devotion was, and taking a weekly 'couples day' started to become rather fashionable in the local high society…

Of course, none of the couples who started imitating them realized that after building up their strength with a big brunch, Kian and Tanya would return home and prepare for the arrival of their Master. He'd always arrive in the early afternoon, but his point of departure was a lot more variable. Sometimes, he'd leave at dinnertime. Sometimes, he'd leave well into the night, with both of them battered and exhausted in his wake. Every Saturday, they prepared – not knowing what they'd be in for, how long it would last, but eager and joyful all the same. Whatever happened, they would get to bask in their Master's presence for hours.

This Saturday was no exception. As had become their habit, they were ready at the stroke of twelve. His exact arrival-time varied sometimes, so they had to play it safe. At earliest, he'd turned up just ten minutes past twelve. At latest, it had been close to two o'clock. That, too, was part of their submission, Kian reflected as he glanced over at his wife – not knowing how long they would be kneeling there. He didn't mind, even when it wound up being an hour or more, though – it was kind of meditative.

They were kneeling there together, in their bedroom, bent over the foot of their marital bed. They were both bound in much the same way – same collars around their necks, same spreader-bars between their ankles, same muzzle-gags, same handcuffs clicked onto their wrists behind their backs with no easy way to free themselves. Still, there were some differences. Both wore a nipple-chain, currently pressed into the bedsheets, but while Tanya's connected her thick nipple-rings, Kian's still came with clamps. He was perfectly ready to let his body be decorated by the Master's steady hand and piercing-needle, though he certainly wouldn't enjoy it in quite the way his wife had – but, the Master had not seen fit to do so, and that was all there was to it.

Of course, there were also the weights. She had one dangling from her clit-ring – while his swung from a different kind of ring, one that encircled his sack, well above the balls. It placed significant pressure on the tender spheres as it was pulled into them by the pendulous weight beneath – sometimes making him wonder which of the two actually hurt the most. Not that it mattered, of course – Tanya enjoyed the pain. For him, it was simply another kind of devotion… though he couldn't deny that having that weight swing forcefully back and forth while the Master's cock pounded his ass generated some very interesting sensations!

The biggest difference, though, was orifice-related. Tanya had her labia-rings, connected to thigh-bands with taut elastic-bands – keeping her fleshy pink folds stretched painfully wide, and her pink insides fully exposed. He, meanwhile, had his butt-plug. Not the one he usually wore, nearly all the time, with its ergonomic base and such – but a significantly bigger one, with a wide, round base and a handle set in it. Inserted carefully, with plenty of lube – all to ensure that his 'boy-pussy' was ready to receive his Master's cock as soon as he stepped through the doors. His wife, of course, had no need for that – she treasured the stinging pain of having her unprepared tailhole stretched forcibly open by the huge tool, or some even more torturous toy.

This time, they knelt for an hour, in gag-enforced silence. Kian used the time to reflect on some of the compromises they'd arrived at, since agreeing to serve their Master together. Notably, Tanya had reluctantly agreed to empty her bladder before assuming this position – she was still wearing the urethral plug, even now, though with her clit-ring otherwise occupied, it was held in purely by the tightness of the hole. According to her, that made it 'perfectly safe' - if they wound up kneeling there for too long, the pressure would simply force it out, rather than making her bladder burst. He'd managed to argue against it mostly with the suggestion that their Master wouldn't be happy to find her kneeling in a puddle with piss soaking into her thigh-fur… but, he'd still had to agree to cleaning out his ass with a thorough enema, right alongside her, as she turned the argument back on him. Keeping that hole clean was part of making it ready for the Master's cock, surely! The fact that he didn't mind cleaning cocks and toys that had come from a dirty ass was immaterial. And the Master hadn't expressed a preference one way or the other, so she got her way…

Finally, their ears twitched in unison as they heard the distant sound of their front door opening. There was never any question as to who it was – only three people had a key to both the door and the alarm-system. Still, their sharp ears did pick up something strange as they listened for footsteps on the stairs… enough to make them both twitch a bit uncertainly, turning their muzzled faces towards the door. Their eyes brightened and tails twitched – though, of course, Tanya's thick, fuzzy one was somewhat restrained by the tail-cuff attached to her collar – as they saw the familiar, golden shape of their Master open the door and step through… then widened in confusion as another, less familiar form followed.

It was a bear – a big, heavyset Kodiak, wearing an oil-stained set of overalls. As he stomped into the room, close on Gil's heels, he paused and gazed down at the two naked leopards, kneeling at the foot of the bed. "Seems you were not exaggerating!" He remarked to his companion, in a rather thick Russian accent. The lion shrugged wordlessly, walking up between the two waiting submissives. Bending down a bit, he let his paws caress an ass-cheek on each of them, relaxing them with his touch just as the presence of a stranger had started to make them tense up.

"Let's get some introductions out of the way, hmm?" He remarked. "This is my pet…" he patted Kian's ass "…and this is my toy." Tanya's bottom got a firmer smack – then, he straightened up and gestured towards the bear. "As for this fine fellow, he's a friend of mine. Goes by 'Ivan', though I'm fairly certain he just needed to come up with a new identity, and figured that most Americans expected Russian males to all be named Ivan anyway." The bear grunted in amusement, shrugging his heavy shoulders. "Can neither confirm nor deny, my friend." Gil grinned at this, turning back towards the two tied-up leopards – both of whom were gazing lovingly up at him. "As you've no doubt noticed from the number of toys I've dragged here, I like to keep things fresh and novel…" he continued "…and it occurred to me that having an extra set of paws around opens up any number of interesting possibilities! Don't worry, I vouch for him – he knows what he's doing, and he can keep a secret."

That was just about good enough for the both of them – indeed, neither had to think very hard to realize that they were, in fact, perfectly okay with being used by their Master's friends. A slave, a pet or a toy didn't get to choose who played with them, after all. It was a bit new to Tanya, but not so much to Kian – who still remembered the depraved pleasure of being 'passed around' by various tops at The Bear's Den, at Gil's prompting. Even so, there was a touch of uncertainty in their eyes as Ivan stepped up to inspect them closer. "You, I remember…" he rumbled, bending over Kian. "From bar toilet, yes? You wore blindfold at that time, though, so would not remember me, I suppose."

A shiver of perverse delight ran through the leopard at this reminder. Before becoming his Master's personal slave, that had been the most humiliating, and pleasurable, experience in his life. Standing bent over in a reeking male's room for hours, bound, gagged and blindfolded… unseen paws on his hips, unknown cocks in his ass, the still-unfamiliar pressure of enforced chastity embracing his cock… listening to them casually discuss his plight even as they used him, sometimes hearing and smelling someone using the urinal right next to the one he was chained to… and that final, blinding ecstasy as the chastity-device was removed and an oversized lion-cock mercilessly pounded his worn-out tailhole, making him shoot a thick, bountiful wad of cum into the face of another bottom waiting hungrily underneath him, without anyone even touching his cock.

While he was enjoying this memory, however, Ivan was taking a closer look at his wife. "Snow leopard, eh?" He remarked, a note of curiosity in his voice. "Taste of the Motherland… we are both far from home, devushka. Let us get along, as fellow expatriates, nyet?" She, for her part, returned his curiosity. There was a certain presence to him, that reminded her of some of her father's shadier associates back home. Fair number of bears among them, too – you couldn't do better, when it came to hired muscle. Up close, she could also make out a scar that ran across his wide muzzle, narrowly missing one of his eyes – half-hidden under his face-fur, but certainly reinforcing the vibes she'd been getting, now that she saw it. Perhaps this bear had an even better reason for emigrating to America than she did…

"Well then, shall we get started warming these two up?" Gil suggested to his ursine companion as they both stripped off their clothes, revealing hard muscles under soft fur. "Go ahead and grab your stuff – I'll play with my pet a bit, if you put my toy through her paces!" Ivan's 'stuff' came in the form of a wheeled suitcase, big enough to make both leopards sweat. The fact that it proved to be mostly full of jumbled wires and what looked like a car-battery did not appreciably allay their worries, with Tanya feeling a growing lump of fear in her throat. Her Master, however, seemed to notice, even as he started working the plug out of her husband's ass. "Don't worry so much, kitty…" he reassured her with a grin that would've made her knees weak if she hadn't been kneeling already. "Ivan's day-job may be as a simple mechanic, but he's a talented electrical engineer too – among other things. That electric clit-to-urethra toy I've used on you a few times? He made that…"

The bear scratched his face-fur in apparent embarrassment as the tied-up snow-leopard glanced up at him in surprise and admiration. Some of her best memories included that little toy, sending regular bursts of blunt agony through her clit and thus adding spice to some other masochistic pleasure she was enjoying. These days, though, her peehole was getting a bit too loose for it… "It was nothing special…" the bear declared humbly, rolling his shoulders. "Mostly components off shelf, and little toy Gil brought me. Now, on to work! Rule was, no marks above shoulders, da?"

With those words, Tanya was plunged into a hell where time lost all meaning, and the sound of her own rapid heartbeat in her ears blocked out all else. Ivan was, indeed, a gifted electrical engineer – and slapdash though his home-made electro-stim device looked, it also proved to be both powerful and flexible. His handling of it was expert as well, applying hissing, crackling, electric agony to various parts of her body, long enough to make her head spin and her muscles seize up, but not so long that it numbed the area or caused electrical burns. However, Gil's 'among other things' was clearly hiding something rather dark, the snow-leopard vaguely realized as she struggled to breathe. 'Ivan' had to have a past in one of Russia's shadier intelligence-agencies, or the Bratva – the Russian Mafia – or possibly both. His skills were polished and professional – he'd been taught how to torture people without leaving marks, and was now merely applying those skills to a different end.

The noose frightened her at first, as it tightened painfully around her neck, just above the collar, leaving her struggling to breathe – but even when her vision darkened, she could still see her Master, looking at her, admiring the fine display she made as she hung there, with just enough of her body-weight on the noose that it didn't fully constrict her throat. Watching her, even as he fucked her groaning husband, making him plead for release. There was pleasure in being right on the edge of choking, she discovered – and Ivan's professional demeanor was surprisingly calming. He knew just how to tighten or loosen the rope to keep her in that sweet spot even as he continued to torture her.

At the end, still dizzy, she found herself on the bed, flat on her back with her legs forcibly spread and her throat thoroughly blocked by the familiar bulk of the inflatable gag. The bear, her torturer, was standing over her, lighting a thick cigar. "I actually quit, but… this is special occasion, nyet?" he remarked, his deep voice barely audible over the buzzing in her ears. Then the agony continued, redoubled and then some – an entirely new sort of pain, which made her scream desperately into the gag. The slightest brush of the cigar's glowing-red tip across her sensitive, exposed parts sparked explosions of pain, and a lingering ache as the hot ashes settled in her fur. Sometimes, it didn't even touch her, but just hovered near a specific point for several long seconds as the pain gradually ratcheted up from the radiating heat. The smell of cigar-smoke and burned fur was thick in her nostrils, and she could think of nothing but the pain that filled her body to overflowing…

"I think this one has had enough…" she heard Ivan's heavily-accented voice rumble in the distance – followed by her Master's cheerful reply, just as far away, echoing down a tunnel to her. "Yep, she's definitely ready to pop… why don't you do the honors? It's been a while since you last had a femme, right?" She imagined this probably rated a shrug from the bear, though she could not see it – her eyes were fixed feverishly on a point on the ceiling, twitching occasionally. "Da… I prefer males, most of time, but variety is spice of life – or so they say around here!" The bear answered – then, her view of the ceiling was interrupted by his wide, fuzzy head… and his long, thick cock speared into her aching pussy.

It wasn't as girthy as her Master's, she dizzily concluded as it began to pound her cunt, jostling the new, thicker toy that had been painfully forced into her peehole at some point during the torture. But it was just as long, if not longer – and, while it lacked the vicious barbs around the tip, it did have a wide, distinctive, almost leaf-like head, which scraped very pleasingly across her inner walls, teasing her cervix as it brushed by. He was also almost as strong – smashing his hips into hers with enough force to shake her body. But she didn't have a lot of time to analyze his equipment or technique, or really even think about how casually she'd surrendered her body to an entirely third male – the key was in her lock, and even if it wasn't the Master Key, it fit well enough, especially when it was being turned so vigorously. Like a nuclear chain-reaction, all the pain that had built up in her body was exploding into pure pleasure, overwhelming her mind with ecstasy. First, fireworks seemed to go off across her field of vision – then, it got dark…

It wasn't the first time Tanya had passed out from a particularly powerful orgasm, and she understood immediately what had happened, once she regained consciousness. It wasn't as if she was usually out for particularly long, either – but this time, it had apparently been long enough for Ivan to finish his business. When her eyes opened, she found herself looking right up at the handsome, dark-maned, leonine face of her Master. She could feel his lovely barbs inside of her, scratching across her sensitive inner walls, sending little shocks of pain and pleasure through her. She could also hear it as he fucked her, though – slimy, schlucking sounds resounded with every thrust. Her pussy felt gooey indeed… whatever his general preferences, Ivan had clearly enjoyed it, and delivered a hefty load. It felt somehow wrong for her Master to be taking the sloppy seconds, but… if he didn't mind, she certainly wasn't going to argue. Indeed, she couldn't even muster any surprise at the dim realization that she'd happily let any man her Master pointed at fuck her, abuse her, fill her womb with his cum. She was just a toy, after all – if her owner wanted to loan her out to another, she had no cause to complain.

Soon, she was cumming again – panting and moaning in pleasure, vaguely aware that the inflatable gag had been removed at some point while she was out cold. These climaxes weren't going to knock her out again, of course, though they were enhanced by the many lingering aches that the earlier torture had left her with, particularly the cigar-burns – all rather beside the point, though. What mattered was feeling her Master's muscular weight on top of her battered body, smelling his scent as her nose nestled at the nape of his neck, feeling her body eagerly embrace his cock… it had nothing to do with the masochistic urges he'd helped her discover. She simply wanted him – wanted to be close to him, wanted to be useful to him, wanted to be his… wanted, yes, to bear his cubs, and be his good little obedient toy forever and ever.

She was lost in this reverie of desire until she felt his seed explode into her already cum-filled pussy, invading her eagerly-waiting womb. As always, that sensation brought with it one last, extra-strong orgasm – the afterglow of which helped to ease the sting of feeling his cock withdraw from her pussy. Not the sting of the barbed tip scraping across the full length of the orifice, of course – she treasured that – but just the regret of no longer having him inside of her. Feeling pleasantly detached, she followed her Master with her eyes as he got off of her, rising to stand next to the bed. He wasn't looking at her anymore, though, sadly, and she idly followed his gaze.

At the foot of the bed, Ivan was standing – holding her husband in what could be charitably described as a bear-hug. Honestly, though, it was more like a wrestler's chokehold – perhaps Ivan, like many other Russian bears, had studied Sambo? With one thick, fuzzy arm enfolding the slender leopard's neck and shoulders, and the other firmly gripping his head, pushing it forwards in a way that effectively prevented any attempt at biting, Kian was clearly getting his own taste of breath-control now – his paws weren't even reaching the floor, dancing in the air a few inches shy. Meanwhile, the bear's wide hips were swaying as he pounded his victim from a standing position, lifting him a bit with each thrust. The weight had been removed from his balls, but there was still a tight ring clamping his sack shut at the top, and the chastity-device was still in place above, though clear juices were seeping out around the edges of the plate that sealed his sheath.

"I think that one is ready to pop too…" their Master remarked as he watched Kian struggle to breathe during the violent ass-reaming he was receiving. "What do you think of his ass, though? Good as you remember?" Ivan grunted, his pace not slowing even as he talked. "Less tight. Your handiwork, I am guessing. Femme was better than I remember, but… I still like this best." The big lion nodded at this, then grinned. "Well, he's been behaving like a good little pet today, so I suppose he deserves a chance to ease the pressure… and I think I just got an idea for how! I'm not sure what comes after 'sloppy seconds', but I do think it's just perfect for a cute little slave-boy like him. Here, bring him over, I've got the key right here…"

As she listened to his words, mostly just enjoying the sound of his voice, Tanya watched her Master climb onto the bed again – and then found her view blocked entirely by smooth, golden fur. He was kneeling on top of her head, now – lowering his rear onto her face while idly playing with her tits, making several cigar-burns smart all over again. Eagerly, she opened her mouth. She'd probably never have her husband's appetite for humiliation and debasement, but this particular act, she'd grown fond of. The musky scent was intense, intoxicating even, as was the feeling of his weight pressing down on her face, and the way he could control her access to air just by shifting a little bit back or forth. She'd found the actual taste of his bitter-salty tailhole unpleasant at first, but just from association, it had grown on her. By now, she was happy to sink her tongue into that dank hole, as her face disappeared between his muscular buttocks…

Kian watched his Master seat himself on his wife's face as he was carried over to them, his vision clearing up as Ivan eased the pressure on his neck. It wasn't that usual a sight – nor was he unaccustomed to seeing it up close. Usually, it meant that the Master was about to pleasure himself with her soft, heavy tits, pulling them close together by connecting the thick nipple-rings with a short chain, then using the gap between them while her tongue explored his tailhole. Then he would usually be commanded to lay across her belly, mouth open, ready to receive his Master's seed – sometimes working a dildo into his own ass, or even peehole, with strict orders not to stop until he'd swallowed a hot mouthful of cum. Still, he had a feeling this time was different – as the Master had said, an additional pair of paws, not to mention an additional cock, opened up many new options.

Still dangling fully-impaled on the bear's long, broad-headed shaft, he felt his Master's paws gently caress the edges of his locked chastity-device, and shivered. He'd wear it for weeks, months, years without rest, if that was what his Master asked of him… but gods did he need to cum, desperately! His prostate felt like it had ballooned up to twice its normal size inside of him, and every movement of the cock in his ass sent tremors of blinding, instinctive need through him. It was like having an overfilled bladder, then peeing a tiny bit, then stopping… which, on reflection, was maybe why his darling wife so enjoyed leaving her bladder dangerously full?

A lock clicked open. A familiar sensation of body-warm metal disappeared. He could feel it keenly – the air, caressing parts of his fur that had been pressed into his skin for weeks. His peehole gaped as the sounding-tube was pulled out – and immediately, his cock started to inflate, expanding out of his sheath, eager to taste the air once more. It was hard to focus on anything else, but he did notice when Ivan stopped squeezing his neck, and instead dropped him down on something soft and subtle… namely, his wife.

Before his eyes, his Master's cock rose proud, and the scent of fresh cum tickled his nostrils. The lion's barbed tool was basically dripping with jizz after having been dunked in his wife's well-used pussy – and he knew just what he was supposed to do with it. His Master was leaning forwards, bringing the tool down to a more vertical position, and he hungrily opened his mouth as Ivan – who was still balls-deep in his ass – pushed him forwards into it. The cum-soaked cock disappeared between his jaw, then reached the back of his muzzle, grinding against his palate as it continued down his throat. His neck stretched around it, bulging to accommodate the wrist-thick thing – a feat that had been a lot harder to accomplish than making room for it in his ass – and just like that, he was being spit-roasted.

He couldn't breathe like this, of course – but he didn't panic or fight back, though his hands were currently unbound. He could feel his Master's paw on his head, digging into his headfur, guiding him – and he trusted that touch with his life. If he passed out, it was because his Master wanted him to pass out, and that was fine. That did not seem to be the intent, though – his body was pulled back by two powerful bear-paws, and his head followed along. The Master's cock smeared its payload of cum all over his throat on the way out, leaving him with a warm, slimy feeling down there – but he could breathe again, thought his nose, drawing in air heavy with the Master's musky scent.

As he was pushed forwards again, he felt something warm and slimy enfold his cock – fully erect, now, and throbbing with desperate need. His wife's pussy, he realized belatedly, remembering his Master's earlier words. It gaped wide around his shaft, stretched open by bigger, stronger males, and was full to the brim with their virile seed. It was this hot, thick slime, more than her smooth inner walls, that he felt as Ivan's thrust forced him fully inside the freshly-used orifice. The sense of humiliation and debasement this sensation sent through him was dizzying. He was but a slave, a pet, obedient and demure in the presence of his betters. His mouth was a cleaning-station and a urinal, his tailhole reshaped into a boy-pussy for the enjoyment of others… he breathed when he was allowed to, and came when he was allowed to.

And so he did – breathing deeply whenever his throat was unblocked, running his tongue eagerly around his Master's thick tool at every chance, tasting the seed of lion and bear alike. His hips moved smoothly, guided by powerful paws – pushing back to impale his ass on Ivan's prodigious member, then forwards to bury his throbbing cock in his wife's gaping, cum-filled pussy. With the bear's shaft rubbing against his aching prostate, he didn't last long, either – groaning around his Master's cock as he unloaded his balls. His cum felt almost jelly-thick as it pushed through his urethra, which – having been stretched open by the titanium tube he usually peed through – easily expanded to let it emerge in a thick beam. The sensation was… indescribable, and for a few seconds, he felt like he was about to pass out, like his wife so often did.

The session ended not long after. Tanya looked barely conscious when she emerged from under their Master's bottom, her face flushed and her eyes vague, saliva soaking into her face-fur. She was left to recover on the bed, her pussy twitching as it overflowed with abundant cum, while he did his duty – fastidiously cleaning Ivan's impressively-long cock with his tongue. While he did this, his Master – showing heart-warming care for his pathetic pet – wiped his own still-twitching member down with a wet-nap, and forced it back into its sheath with a firm paw. The chastity-device was pulled back into place, clamped onto his sheath, and locked – while the titanium sounding-tube was pushed down his twitching urethra, once again providing a direct line to his bladder with no chance of his balls or prostate emptying themselves around it. He whimpered between licks as he felt it, prompting his Master to chuckle. "I only said I'd let you cum once…" he remarked as he straightened up, patting his obedient slave on the bum. "But who knows? Maybe you'll get another chance next week."

Afterwards, he knelt demurely on the bed, next to his half-asleep wife, while the Master and Ivan collected their tools – with the bear in particular having to pack various instruments and wires back into his wheeled suitcase. The ergonomic, long-term plug was back in his ass, currently holding in the cum-loads that he'd been gifted, from both his Master and the visitor. It was a pleasant, warm sensation that he always regretted having to part with, though bodily functions of course made this inevitable in short order. "This was fun!" his Master remarked, seemingly as much to him as to Ivan. "Maybe I'll bring somebody else next week. Plenty of tops at The Bear's Den still remember a certain obedient leopard with a tight boy-pussy, and would be delighted to renew their acquaintance…"

Considering this parting line, neither Kian nor Tanya were particularly surprised the next Saturday when – bound and kneeling at the foot of their bed as usual – they heard the front door open, and the sound of multiple feet climbing the stairs, not all of them paws. Anxiety warred with excitement in both of their guts as they wondered what kind of 'friends' their Master had brought, and what kind of experiences they were about to be in for. Their gagged faces turned towards the door as their Master entered, staring adoringly up at him – then reluctantly shifting their attention to the next fur through the door, as their Master introduced him.

It was a horse – a rather sleek, long-limbed specimen with a reddish-brown coat, just about as tall as the lion before him, though nowhere near as muscular. "This handsome fellow is, unfortunately, named Brad…" Gil declared with a flourish, making the stallion wince. "Everybody calls me Red!" he exclaimed with a noticeable inner-city twang to his accent. "At least, everybody that knows what's good for 'em… and who ain't the size of an Escalade." He glared up at the big lion, who answered it with a broad, mischievous grin. "Red here is pretty good with his hands – he's got a side-hustle making custom toys and such for folks in the local community…" Gil continued "…and I've had him cooking up something special for you, pet." His eyes fell on Kian, who shivered in response, wondering just what he was in for. "I figured I'd let him show off his work himself."

"Get outta my way Red, 'less you want some smoke…" an unfamiliar voice suddenly resounded from the hallway, sounding marginally temperamental. Red, almost instinctively, leaped aside so that he was no longer blocking the doorway. "Ah yes…" Gil remarked, gesturing towards the figure who now stepped boldly inside. "I also brought along Shezai here. Thought it might be fun to help you two broaden your horizons." The spotted hyena who'd just entered the room was definitely a femme – there was enough of a sway to her hips, and curve to her ripped-T-shirt clad chest, to make that clear. She also, however had a jawline that could best be described as 'bone-crunching', a dozen or so facial piercings, a thick pair of biceps, a noticeable bulge in the tight jean-shorts she wore, and a bad attitude.

Both Kian and Tanya's eyes inevitably gravitated towards one of those traits – namely, her shorts and what they revealed. Her powerful jaws twisted into a grin as she noticed their interest. "Like what ya see, kitties?" she taunted, thrusting her hips out. "That's right, I'm a throwback and damn proud of it! Hobbies include taking idiots' money in arm-wrestling bets, and drinking males under the table… then having my way with 'em while they're black-out drunk." She licked her lips noisily, glancing unabashedly down at Kian's fully-exposed rear, sending a shiver of conflicted arousal through him.

He'd never been attracted to femmes, much as it had taken him a while to admit that, even to himself – but this one was different, no? He knew about throwbacks, of course – including the fact that while they could call themselves that, it was generally a bad idea for anybody else to use this term, unless they were looking for trouble. The PC term was 'atavism', but it all meant the same thing – evolutionary traits of their distant, more wild-living ancestors reemerging in the modern day. That could mean any number of things depending on species, with snakes noticeably suffering from the partial or complete loss of limbs – but for a spotted hyena femme, it clearly entailed a terrifyingly muscular build, an aggressive attitude, and a huge cock.

"I know you both prefer males…" Gil said, voicing Kian's unspoken thoughts "…but I think you'll find Shezai here pleasant company all the same! She's almost as ruthless and sadistic as she makes herself out to be, and also very good with needles. Runs a piercing-parlor downtown – she's the one who taught me how to do it, even." The hyena snorted at this, walking past him as he talked, and glanced down at Tanya – with her eyes zeroing in on the thick clit-ring, and the weight that dangled from it. "Didn't teach ya that much…" she grumbled. "Picked up on it all way too quickly. But lemme just check your handiwork all the same…"

Grabbing the snow-leopard by the scruff of her neck, she pulled her upright into a kneeling position,? ? exposing and inspecting her heavy tits. "Solid enough…" she judged the rings there. "Pretty basic stuff though. The clit-ring's another matter, 'course. Most of the time, when people talk 'bout that stuff, they actually just mean a clitoral hood piercing. Straight through the nub itself, and with such a thick ring? That takes a steady hand." Leaving Tanya behind, she then stepped over to her leopard husband, pulling him up to his knees as well and clicking her tongue. "Nothing on spots here, huh?" Gil shrugged at this, grinning at her. "Thought I'd leave something for you to do. Besides, he's not a fan of pain, so a more experienced touch is probably better. That being said, go to town if you like… he's just a slave, after all, so he's got no say in how he's decorated." This straight-faced declaration had Kian trembling with arousal, even before the dominant hyena revealed her piercing-kit and a vicious smile. "You heard him…" she remarked nastily, pulling him up on the bed and moving his restraints around a bit to leave him suitably exposed and flat on his back. "Time to get you some suitable bling, spots!"

While Kian faced the hyena with a whimper, his wife was discovering that regardless of her masochistic tendencies, she was still perfectly capable of enjoying the visceral pleasure of being sandwiched between two fit, well-equipped male bodies. She was also racking up a number of new experiences – it was her first time being double-penetrated, if one did not count toys, and her first time time with an equine. They were, as it turned out, just as well-hung as she'd heard, mostly from the whispered giggles of some of her girlfriends, and the way his wide, spongy cockhead flared as he got close to a climax was very pleasurable too.

Despite how often her tailhole had been stretched out and straightened by her Master's wrist-thick tool, Red's horse-cock still felt intimidatingly large inside her ass, pressing firmly against the huge lion-cock currently pounding her pussy. He was athletic too, with the wiry physique of a long-distance runner – and he was making full use of it, pulling back far enough to make her sphincter stretch painfully around the base of his flared head as he slammed long, powerful strokes into her ass. Between the energetic horse riding her ass, the Master's huge tool in her pussy, and the painfully thick toy filling her peehole, as it had for the past week, her whole lower body felt satisfyingly packed. The light pain the two were causing her – tugging on her nipple-rings, slapping her tits and buttocks – was a perfect spice to the pleasure, and it got even better when she felt Red's teeth sink lightly into her neck from behind.

This was something her Master had never done, she vaguely realized as she moaned and leaned back against the red-coated male behind her. Maybe for purely practical reasons – his sheer size meant that he couldn't possibly bite her and fuck her at the same time – or maybe just because his huge fangs and powerful jaws made such a gesture too dangerous. But horses liked to show their femmes their place in this manner, with a pair of sharp canines hiding behind their otherwise squared-off teeth – and those fangs were now sinking into her neck deeply enough to draw blood, if only just barely. It felt wonderfully primal – a reminder of her status as a simple sex-toy, and maybe chew-toy too, with holes ready to welcome whatever males her Master saw fit to share her with. Though, even among all this pleasure, and the intoxicating sense of submission and depravity that this stallion was helping to provide, she couldn't quite stop herself from shooting an envious glare at her husband whenever he whimpered in pain…

Several orgasms later, Shezai's coarse voice interrupted the trio, causing them all to turn and admire her work. "Done! Snazzy, don'tcha think?" She lit a cigarette beside the bed while three pairs of eyes looked over her handiwork. Kian now had a set of nipple-rings to match his wife's, though in a markedly different style – essentially bar-piercings with a U-shaped attachment, currently connected by a chain. The attachments were beefy enough for many kinds of uses, but could be easily detached to let him wear a suit without any visible signs of his new 'decorations'. Of course, the main focus was between his legs – a thick ring had been set into the front of his sack, ready for weights or other attachments, and several studs now lined the edge of his sheath. The chastity-device that usually covered the area had been removed to let her work freely, but the position of the studs ensured that they wouldn't interfere with it. In spite of this freedom, the threat of the hyena's needles and the pain they inflicted had prevented him from developing a proper hard-on, with only the tip of his cock poking out of the newly-decorated sheath… showing off the ring set into its tip, encircling a urethra that was still stretched open by a titanium sounding-tube.

"Nice!" Gil declared, sending a wave of warm, fuzzy satisfaction through Kian, quite erasing the lingering pain that throbbed in his loins. "That ring will be great for attaching a leash whenever he's not in chastity… and those studs at the sheath-edge, are that kind, right?" The artist grinned viciously, taking a drag on her cigarette before answering. "Yep. Pointy pyramid tips on the inside. Anytime he has the nerve to get hard while wearing the chastity-device, he'll be punished. And when he's actually allowed to get hard, they'll basically act like a built-in spanish tickler!" The submissive leopard shivered as he heard this – from anxiety as much as arousal. He often got hard underneath the chastity-seal, his cockhead pushing futilely against the metallic 'lid' that stoppered his sheath. From now on, any time he did that, the sensitive tip of his tool would be expanding right into the spiky studs. A permanent reminder that his body was not his own – that he was meant to give pleasure to others, with his mouth and tailhole, not enjoy it himself, save when his Master saw fit to generously grant it to him.

"A'ight, he's all yours now, Red…" Shezai continued, stepping away from the kneeling, newly-decorated slave with a dismissive shrug. The stallion – who had taken advantage of the interruption to let his flare deflate somewhat after firing a second load into Tanya's tailhole – lifted an eyebrow and pulled out, leaving the snow-leopard to moan and cling to her Master's chest, drinking in the stinging sensation in her sphincter. "You don't wanna take his ass for a ride first?" He asked crudely as he made his way across the swaying bed to where Kian was kneeling, trying to recover from having several new holes punched in his physiology. The hyena grunted, electing to walk around the bed instead, while continuing to puff on her cigarette. "Nah… I'm too worked up after that…" she remarked, her eyes gleaming with sadistic glee. "They way he writhes and mewls is just too fuckin' tasty. So right now, I wanna see if this cunt is really up for enjoying what I'm 'bout to do to her!"

Red shrugged at this, turning his attention from wife to husband without much care for what was about to happen to the femme he'd just pleasured. "Well, you do you…" he replied "…hey, spots! Your wife got my cock all dirty, best clean it up proper-like 'fore I get started!" Kian, as ever, was perfectly happy to tongue-clean the cocks of those who'd used his wife's hungry holes – and Tanya, meanwhile, found herself staring up at Shezai with hunger in her eyes as she was eased down on her back, her Master still pounding her pussy steadily. Just like her husband, she'd never been attracted to femmes… but this was different. Not so much because of the thick cock that was emerging into the air, now, as the hyena stripped off her tight shorts and ragged T-shirt, as because of the predatory way her eyes were looking down at her. It made her feel like a piece of meat below a butcher's cleaver… and she liked it.

"Now then, cunt…" Shezai remarked casually as she climbed onto the bed near Tanya's head, depositing her piercing-kit nearby and starting to unbuckle the snow-leopard's muzzle-gag. "…Gil told me that he hasn't used that pretty mouth of yours much yet. Time to correct that! I'm gonna fuck your face while I turn those bouncy tits of yours into pincushions. If you do a good job sucking my cock, I might not put my smoke out on your clit when I'm done. You already met Ivan, right? So you should have some idea of what that'll feel like…"

Tanya whimpered as she spread open her muzzle, craning her head back to present her mouth and throat as a nice, straight fuck-hole to the overpoweringly dominant hyena. It was true, she had somewhat scant experience with this – unlike her husband, she hadn't managed to train her throat to the point where it could handle their Master's wrist-thick cock, so she was only able to suck on the head, lick her way down the shaft, and generally worship the lion's mighty tool. But she'd seen Kian at work often enough to know what a proper facefuck looked like and she did, indeed, have 'some idea' of what would happen if she failed to provide this frightening femme with a pleasurable fuckhole. Ivan's torturous cigar had never touched her clit directly – only brushed across the skin and fur around it, and hovered nearby to burn the sensitive nub with its radiant heat alone. Never mind the pain, such an act seemed likely to cause real and permanent damage to the precious little pearl! Most likely, Shezai was bluffing in the first place – but all the same, she wasn't going to test her.

This was another new experience, of course, she reflected with a shiver as she looked up – Shezai's breasts were more noticeable now that she was naked, smaller than her own but still just as distinct as the cock that dangled between her legs, right in front of Tanya's eyes. She'd never imagined sleeping with another femme… nevermind her first such experience involving a deepthroating! But that was fine, she thought as she ran her tongue across the hyena's smooth cock while it slowly made its way past her jaw and into the back of her throat – she was just a toy, after all, and if a femme wanted to use her available holes, she had no cause to complain on that front. She wasn't certain how well she'd fare if her Master actually commanded her to lick pussy or such, and was just as happy not to find out today – but she did know that she would never refuse. Every new partner he introduced to her, every new cock that used her holes freely, made her feel more dirty, more depraved, more owned – and she loved it.

The cock in her mouth felt every bit like a regular one, for all that it was attached to a femme. It was smooth, hard, and meaty – bulging around the middle in particular. Not nearly so big as her Master's, but certainly bigger than her husband's! It seemed somewhat canine in its shape, but also feline in other ways, she vaguely thought as she felt its girth stretch her throat painfully, creating a visible bulge on her neck. Painful, yes – but also manageable. Unlike her Master's cock, her body could handle this, and her tongue was already working as best as it was able, massaging the smooth shaft. Of course, her hands were still restrained, and her body held firmly in place by her Master's powerful paws – ensuring that this face-fucking also doubled as breath-control. She'd watched her husband handle this, too, on several occasions – his body twitching only slightly as the movements of their Master's cock controlled his access to oxygen. She'd do no less, resisting the urge to struggle whenever her breath was cut off – only wishing, in a fuzzy sort of way, that the hyena had a nice, heavy ballsack to go with the cock, which could drape across her nose on every thrust and let her breathe in its thick scent of sweat and male musk as it pulled back…

Not that she had much space for such reflections. Pain was exploding across her chest as needle after needle was driven into the subtle flesh of her tits. Not just shallow insertions – she could feel them dig deep, with inches of cold metal spearing into her flesh, particularly around the more sensitive areola. None of her past torments had been much more than skin-deep, parting her fur and leaving burns or welts – scratching up the inside of her various holes at worst. But this hyena, experienced as she was in the arts of piercing, knew where to put her needles to avoid real damage – and she was using it to the fullest. At the same time, her Master had not stopped – his cock plundered her pussy, planting its seed once again in her womb, then moved on to her tailhole, which still tingled from the fox's visit. Thanks to this, orgasms regularly rocked her body, turning the incandescent pain of her skewered tits into waves of ecstasy…

There was a warm, gooey sensation in her guts – Master's cum, filling her up as usual. No such thing in her mouth, though, which made sense, on reflection. Only a thin, clear liquid lingered on her tongue when Shezai finally finished planting what felt like dozens of long, thin needles in her tits, and pulled her cock out of Tanya's mouth. It tasted vaguely familiar to the dazed snow-leopard – reminiscent of her own love-juices, so often sampled on her Master's cock when she cleaned him, but tangier and more strongly-flavored. "Well, I've had worse blowjobs…" the hyena dryly remarked as her tapered cockhead cleared Tanya's lips. Then, just as she started to relax her neck, trying to get a good look at her tortured tits, her vision was blocked by a wide, fuzzy ass – Shezai had simply sat down on her face, trapping her head with her legs. Her every breath was now thick with the dark, bitter scent of the hyena's asshole, her vision virtually blocked by the short, yet broad tail.

She was still fairly new to rimjobs… and so far, had performed this service only for her Master. This hyena's scent didn't leave her intoxicated like his did, and the idea of sticking her tongue up this unfamiliar hyena's foul-smelling tailhole made her throat thicken in protest. Even so, she was working up the courage to get started, when she found out that this change of position actually had a different purpose – as revealed when Shezai's coarse voice, carrying an undertone of dreadful eagerness, rang out. "Not good enough, though. Sorry, cunt, but you'd best practice some more for next time…"

For all the torments she'd experienced since discovering her masochistic side, this was a new peak. Her mind went blank, the pain chasing out all other thoughts. Her limbs fought desperately against the unyielding restraints that bound them. Her spine curved as if it was about to snap, her jaw-muscles straining hard enough to make her throat bulge out – which was probably the main reason Shezai had pulled out first. The high-pitched scream that emerged from between her tightly-clenched jaws was significantly muffled by the ass covering her face, and she imagined that she could hear her clit sizzle as the cigarette-butt was forcefully ground into it, covering it in burning-hot ash. She didn't even have her Master's cock to distract herself with – he'd pulled out, shortly after her torturer did.

The pain didn't end – it only abated, slowly. The burning sensation continued to radiate out from her agonized crotch, just barely receding enough to make her able to think, somewhat, and understand the words that reached her ringing ears. "Don't complain so much…" the hyena demanded brutally, grinding her ass into Tanya's numb face. "You're lucky I gotta share you today! If I had you to myself, I'd turn your slut cunt into my personal ashtray. What, you didn't think I'd actually do it? Pah. Ring that size through your clit, it's gonna lose sensitivity no matter what you do. Might as well make the most of it while it's still got all those lovely nerve-endings!"

Kian felt a sting of pity as he watched his wife writhe in torment. That crazy hyena had actually left her cigarette there, caught under the clit-ring, mashed into the tautly-stretched tissue. But, he had little sympathy to spare for others, seeing as he was currently sitting fully-impaled upon Red's huge horsecock, its flared head creating a visible bulge on the side of his otherwise flat belly. He wasn't being bounced up and down on it – not anymore, anyway – but he could feel something hot and liquid fill his guts as the horse casually relieved himself, reminding the submissive leopard once again that he was little more than urinal for stronger males to use as they pleased…

Looking down, he could see Red's nimble fingers, surrounding… a really huge cock, jutting out from his groin. At a glance, it could be taken for a reach-around, but of course his pathetic tool was nowhere near this size. It was a dildo, seemingly patterned after his Master's magnificent cock, albeit somewhat exaggerated – thicker, longer, covered in distended veins, and the barbs lining the tip were cold steel rather than flexible keratin. The base was, it seemed, designed to be fastened to his chastity-device… with a 'small' wrinkle. The thin metal tube that usually poked through a hole in the middle of the sheath-sealing plate, running clear from that to his bladder, had been pulled out – and, as this dildo was fitted to his groin, he could feel a different tube at its base taking its place. A rather thicker tube, well-lubricated but also entirely covered in small bumps and nodules that felt anything but small as they were forced into his overstuffed cock.

"There… not bad work, if I say so myself!" Red's voice declared, close to his ears. The stallion's slender fingers wrapped around the newly-attached 'expansion' for Kian's chastity-lock, then pumped it vigorously – making him gasp and groan involuntarily. The new, urethra-straining tube wasn't nearly as long as the old one but, instead, it was attached to the dildo itself, and the base of said dildo had some kind of collapsible foam layer. Enough to let the sound move at least an inch or so back and forth, depending on whether the dildo was being pushed or pulled. That kind of direct, urethral stimulation… it was so intense, he couldn't really decide whether it was pleasure or pain.

"You don't have to say it yourself – I'll say it for ya!" Gil's voice drew Kian's eyes away from his new adornment immediately – it was, after all, his Master's voice. The big lion was standing at the foot of the bed, his cock still dripping with juices after having once again planted his virile seed in his wife's pussy. "That is really good work! You sure it's sturdy enough to stand up to hard use, though?" The stallion snorted at this question, leaning back and letting Kian feel the full weight of the huge toy, pulling on his groin. "Sure it is! The only weak point is the foam base, and I added several sliding pins to reinforce it, so… eh, just see for yourself. Hey, spots, try'n squeeze that cute ass of yours up some, if you don't wanna soil your bed!"

The obedient leopard shivered as he was lifted off the thick horsecock he'd been sitting impaled on so far, struggling to do as he was told – tightening his ragged sphincter so that the cum-load and heavy bladderful of piss that had been pumped into his intestines didn't follow the partially-flared cockhead on the way out. Working those muscles, though, couldn't help but also tighten others in the area, making his cockhole fiercely grip the tube filling it – and making him acutely aware of both its metallic hardness and bumpy texture.

On rather shaky legs, he was guided off the bed and over to his Master's side – right between his wife's legs, held forcibly spread by her restraints. She was still twitching a bit, obviously pained by the cigarette that had been mashed into her clit, and Shezai was still sitting pretty on her face. "What're you waiting for, fuckboy?" The hyena goaded him, grinning down at the huge dildo attached to his chastity-cage. "You've finally got the equipment to pleasure yo' wife, get to it!" His hands had been released from the cuffs that had bound them so far, leaving them free to grip the beautiful snow-leopard's generous hips as he leaned over her, feeling strangely hesitant. The dildo was resting against her belly now – the cigarette-butt having been nudged off by its sheer girth, falling on the bed. The steel-barbed head was past her belly-button. What if he hurt her?

Well… she liked being hurt, he reminded himself as, conscious of the many eyes on him, he pulled his hips back and positioned the dildo's tip at her pink, slightly-gaping pussy-opening. Considering that nobody's offered him any lube, there was no real question as to which hole to go for, after all! Carefully, he started pushing it inside, wincing as the movement made the urethral tube bury itself deeper in his cockhole. He could tell that her labia were tautly stretched, struggling to accommodate the sheer thickness of the toy – the unbending spines lining the tip were creating little creases in the inner labia as they were forced through, which had to be rather painful…

"No, no…" the familiar basso rumble of his Master's voice growled behind him. "That's not how you use that thing." He gasped in reply. A wonderfully thick cock had just been forced up his tailhole, lubricated by his wife's pussy-juice. It felt even more brutally intrusive than usual, what with the way he'd been deliberately keeping his sphincter tight – not that those efforts had done anything to prevent his Master from freely using his obedient slave, of course. He could feel the lion's powerful body behind him, chest against back, hips against ass – pushing him forwards, bending over him and forcing him down in the process. Arms like columns emerged into his field of view, reaching past his own, far weaker set to grip his wife's flanks. "THIS is how you do it…" the Master then declared, using his hips to forcibly slam Kian's groin forwards – burying the huge toy in one powerful movement.

The dildo barely fit – or rather, it fit only because the last couple of inches reacted to the pressure by collapsing and squeezing outwards, creating a bulge almost like a canine's knot. Of course, that also meant that Kian was feeling that thrust deep in his own cockhole – but this did not entirely prevent him from noticing the way his wife's body stiffened between his paws, responding to that huge, pain-inducing toy in a way she never had, and never could, react to his modest-at-best cock. Already, his Master was pulling back to prepare for another deep, powerful thrust, head-bristles scraping across sensitive intestines – and, with a groan, Kian followed suit.

Panting, the leopard put the huge dildo through its paces – though, of course, his Master's powerful body was providing most of the force. The lion's energetic hip-movements would've seen his cock slide clear out of Kian's tailhole if he remained stationary, and even with him doing his best to keep up, it still got halfway out – only to, of course, impale him brutally on the forwards thrust, slamming the huge dildo fully into his wife's pussy, and the urethral tube into his own peehole. "Now you're gettin' it, spots!" Shezai jeered, leaning back a bit. "And your cunt wife's enjoying herself, too. She's finally starting to eat my ass properly! Oh, hey, why don'tcha bring that sweet mouth of yours over here while you're at it? I need to take a leak…"

Kian's head was swimming already. The sensations that were assailing him, both emotional and physical, were overwhelming. His whole groin still smarted from the new piercings. His cock was swelling inside its prison, pressing painfully against the spiky studs on the inside of his sheath-edge, reminding him forcibly of his lowly place. Beneath him, his wife's curvaceous body was rising, pushing against his belly – she was cumming, violently, on the huge dildo attached to his groin, even with her clit still covered in fresh burns and her breasts lined with countless long needles. Meanwhile, the hyena who'd so ruthlessly tortured them both was jeering crudely at them, getting her ass cleaned by his once-elegant Tanya, even as he gulped down her strongly-flavored piss straight from the tip of her fat cock. The level of debasement was sickening, dizzying… and at the same time, his Master's powerful body enveloped his own slim physique, his Master's cock filled his ass and ground forcefully against his prostate, his Master's hot breath made his ears twitch… and that painfully-thick, bumpy tube in his urethra was sliding in and out of his aching cock, not quite long enough to reach his bladder even when pressed fully inside.

"You get it, right pet?" his Master growled in his ear, never slowing his thrusts. "The length of the tube raping your cockhole right now was carefully calculated. It's a gift, for any slave sufficiently lowly and pathetic to actually enjoy being used this way. The studs on your sheath will punish you every time you use it, but I won't. You're free to cum any time you like, as long as it's in the most humiliating way imaginable…" Kian could only gurgle in reply, still busy dutifully serving as Shezai's urinal. But he could feel his balls lifting, his prostate twitching… the ring that usually constrained the top of his sack wasn't even there right now, having been removed by the hyena while she did her work. Even though his cock could not escape the prison of his sheath, even though pain was jolting through it with every thrust of his hips… the need to cum was too strong, and there was nothing physically blocking the path of his seed anymore. Sure, it had only been a week since he was last allowed to ejaculate – but, during that week, his Master had seen fit to visit him on three separate occasions, including ambushing him in the gardens while he was on his way home from a meeting, pulling his pants down without a word and dragging him behind a bush to pound his ass into a gaping, twitching crater. Each time, he'd been left panting with unsated need, a pressure growing in his groin without any way to find release – until now.

Normally, his body would've seized up, his muscles tightening with the intensity of the climax. But this felt different – he was relaxing instead, his eyes going unfocused and his hips still following the movements of the cock pounding his ass, even as his cum started to pour through the tube that was torturing his pathetically imprisoned dick. The sense of complete and utter surrender eclipsed all else – he had become nothing more than an intermediary for his Master's cock, like a living condom, being used to pleasure his gleefully masochistic wife. The humiliation and debasement he so craved seemed meaningless in that moment – of course he'd spread his buttocks for any male willing to use it, of course he'd gulp down hot piss or lick shitstains from the cocks of males who'd just finished reaming out his wife's tailhole, of course his tongue had no greater purpose than cleaning out sweaty assholes, of course he didn't deserve to enjoy an actual orgasm of his own, even as others pleasured themselves with his body. He was the lowliest of slaves, barely more than a domesticated beast, and he needed think of nothing save to obey and please his Master…

His mind largely remained in this submissive space even after he'd finished emptying his balls. Nothing fazed him or made him flinch, every order was obeyed instantly and without the slightest hesitation. His Master's cock was dripping with a reeking mixture of cum, horse-piss and anal secretions after having soaked in it inside his ass for a protracted period? No matter – he licked it all off, swallowing it without fail. The hyena, jeering and lambasting him as she used his still-sore nipple-rings as handholds, fucking him roughly from behind? He happily confirmed every dirty name she called him, and obediently opened his mouth so that she could spit in it.

He didn't even particularly care when the chastity-device was removed again, along with the attached dildo that had been tormenting his urethra until then. His cock hardened obediently as Shezai pulled it out of its sheath by the ring she'd attached there herself, showing obvious marks around the head where the studs had tortured it. Said studs were turned upwards as his tool emerged from the sheath and expanded into full thickness and hardness, forming a circle of upturned spikes around the base, just as she'd said.

It didn't strike him as particularly important, either, when she rode his cock, plunging it into her tailhole – freshly lubricated by his wife's tongue. He was there to obey and be used, after all – how was immaterial. It did not matter if he was cumming into empty air, lifted to orgasm by a thick cock reaming out his tailhole, into his own mouth as he was bent double, or into his wife's gaping, cum-packed pussy after she'd just finished being pleasured by actual males… or, as in this case, into the tight ass of a grinning hyena, who was loudly promising that she'd make him suck his cum right back out when he was done. He was equally undeserving of it all – and far more suited for the task that followed, as Shezai carried through on her promise. Meanwhile, past the thick ass covered in spotted fur, he could see his wife writhe in pleasure as she was spit-roasted by the sleek stallion and the Master himself. His cock was in her ass while he slowly, deliberately, removed the needles from her tits, one by one – her expression exultant, eyes rolled back from the pleasure and pain. Red's flared cockhead filled her mouth like an inflatable gag, and while it certainly couldn't go any deeper, her paws were busy working his long shaft, urging him to fill her stomach with warm horse-cum. All as it should be. He was a slave – she was a sex-toy. Both property of the Master in their own way.

Kian's mind only slowly came back into focus, at the end, as the Master and his guests were starting to get ready to leave. Shezai was using the shower in the next room, Red apparently was planning to go next – while the Master was saying something about how he'd jog home, so there was no point. His stomach was gurgling, full of cum and piss. They'd all used him for a urinal at some point or other, over the course of the uncounted hours this miniature orgy had lasted – including his wife, who was splayed on the bed next to him, drenched in sweat and various other fluids, her clit coated in a burn-salve that the Master had generously provided near the end.

They'd made him eat the cum out of her overflowing, heavily-used pussy, then pulled out the thick urethral toy she always wore, letting the hot piss flow from her gaping peehole like water from a tap. Up close, he'd been able to tell that the toy was much thicker than even the new, wider tube on the dildo, which had just so painfully stretched open his cock. He could easily fit a finger into that hole – and at this rate, it seemed likely that it'd eventually stretch to the point where it could accommodate a smallish cock. Not the Master's, of course, but… a small one.

"Hey – you awake there, slave?" His Master's voice pulled his eyes and thoughts away from his semi-conscious wife, and up to the towering lion that stood before him. "Yes, Master…" he managed to say, his voice hoarse. His throat had been used roughly, too. Red had even face-fucked him, making his neck bulge painfully around that thick horsecock – honestly, if he hadn't been in such a hyper-relaxed state of mind, that ride, and the oxygen-deprivation it had caused, would probably have made him panic. The Master, meanwhile, was nodding, and holding out the by now familiar bulk of the hefty dildo. His chastity-cage was already back in place, but the dildo wasn't currently attached to it. "Here – I'm leaving this with you…" the Master declared with a shrug. "For your wife as much as for you. I'm going to be… busy, next week. Probably won't have time to swing by. So, if the two of you need to ease the pressure, you're free to do so – as long as it's with this."

They lasted until Thursday. Or rather, Tanya lasted until Thursday. Usually, their Master came by for a quickie at least two or three times during the week, and she hadn't realized how much she… depended on those unannounced visits. Waking up in the dead of night to his scent, his muscular weight on top of her, his virile cock in her pussy… her legs already spread, proof that even her subconscious was devoted to him. Or simply dropping whatever she'd been doing – fashion-browsing online, chatting with a friend on the phone, reading gossip-mags – to drop to her knees because he'd just walked in the room with a grin on his face, ready to bend her over some convenient piece of furniture or slam her up against the wall. She'd stopped wearing underwear around the house altogether, for this reason, just as she always slept in the nude. Just like the first time she'd surrendered to him, her Master would simply shred whatever skimpy undergarments she wore with a swipe of his powerful paws, rather than waste time pulling them off or aside – and replacing them was just getting silly.

It was in the evening. They'd both finished their schedules for the day. With a blush in her cheeks, she carried the huge dildo, tipped with steel barbs, over to her husband as he worked in his office. "Please…" she begged, holding it out to him. "I can't stand it anymore! You need it too, right?! You must be just as backed up as I am…" Sighing, he pushed back his chair and looked accusingly up at her. "Of course I'm backed up, but I'm also used to it…" he remarked. "I've gone as much as four weeks without any kind of release, remember? Honestly, the Master spoils you too much…"

Though she couldn't come up with any good counter-argument for that, Kian did eventually give in to her insistent pleading. Somehow, he found, using that dildo felt even more debasing on his own – watching his wife spread her legs eagerly before him, but knowing that it wasn't his cock she hungered for. Indeed, his pathetic tool wouldn't even see the light of day – and would only suffer torments as he pulled out the regular sound, and instead pushed the carefully-lubricated tube from the dildo's base into the central hole of his chastity-lock. It was rather user-friendly, really – clicking firmly onto the cage-structure with a few latches.

Then, though he knew he couldn't hope to match the Master's raw strength, he rode her pussy with that huge dildo as roughly and violently as he could manage – using her nipple-rings as handholds, for that extra kick. Just as before, the oversized toy tortured her cunt and his cock at the same time, pushing her to three orgasms that he could count – before he, too, 'enjoyed' a shameful ejaculation through the dildo's tube. Fired up by the sense of humiliation that came from being so thoroughly reminded that this was the only way he could satisfy his wife, and egged on by her moans of pain-laced pleasure, he even kept going – ramming the hefty toy up her tight tailhole next, giving her a fresh helping of sphincter-stretching pain and a second, even rougher ride.

A number of things occurred to him afterwards, as he was licking the dildo clean and sucking the cum-traces out of its central tubes. Firstly, it hadn't occurred to him to just… not do that, and go straight to cleaning it with hot water and soap, as he'd have to do afterwards anyway. Secondly, it apparently hadn't occurred to his wife to seek sexual relief through any other means, even though she – unlike he – didn't have anything physically preventing this. The Master's shadow far eclipsed his mere, physical presence, Kian realized with a strange sense of epiphany. Even when he wasn't there, they both wanted to stay true to what he'd taught them. The only pleasure or joy they desired was the one he had shown them. For his wife, that meant plunging a finger-thick, heavily-ribbed urethral dildo into her straining peehole while an arm-sized cock lined with steel barbs tore into her tailhole. For him… it meant that he'd 'forget' to brush his teeth before bed, and sleep soundly with the taste of salty cum and bitter anal secretions on his tongue, as he had so many other times before.

The next Saturday, they waited in the usual place, at the usual time, in the usual way – bent over the foot of their bed, on their knees… bound, gagged and helpless. The only change from the previous week was that Kian was now wearing a chain between his nipple-piercings, same as his wife, instead of needing clamps for that purpose – and, by the same token, there was a weight on a chain dangling from the ring-piercing at the front of his sack, rather than a band clamped around the top of it. In quiet contemplation, they knelt there, their minds idly replaying past encounters with the Master – remembering his rumbling voice, his hot breath on their necks or ears, the touch of his paws against their skin. It had become almost like… a prayer, it occurred to Kian.

They remained thus, in silent, immobile obeisance, for two and a half hours, this time – not that either of them could tell. There were no clocks in sight of their posts, and they knew well that it was not for them to decide when the promised session would start. The Master came when it suited him. Their only concern should be to be there, and ready, when he arrived – whenever that might be. Even so, their ears perked up and turned in unison as they heard the distant sound of their front door opening… and synchronized shivers went through them as they realized just how many paws were now climbing the stairs leading to this room.

As their bedroom door opened, though, it wasn't the familiar, broad-shouldered silhouette of their Master who stepped through. Instead, it was… a dog? A husky, to be specific, complete with the characteristic markings on his face-fur. His sharp eyes ran over the two kneeling leopards as he walked into the room, followed by… another husky. Then another. And another. Five huskies in all, trooping inside – though, fortunately the bedroom was big enough that they weren't packed in too tightly. They all looked much the same, with minor differences in their fur-patterns at most… a full litter, Kian realized. Some considered it a throwback-trait, considering that most pregnancies only resulted in one or two cubs, but it was a bit of a gray zone. More importantly, where was the Master?!

"Whoa… Gil really wasn't exaggerating about this pair of pervs!" One of the huskies remarked with a whistle. Another leaned down to run his paw across Tanya's spotted behind, before dipping his fingers into her stretched-open cunt and pulling them out covered in glistening lubricant. She flinched from the touch, a slight whimper emerging from her gagged muzzle as the dog licked his fingers, tasting her juices. "Don't get ahead of yourselves, you lot…" a third husky remarked, having apparently noticed her flinching. Like all of them, he was simply dressed – cargo-shorts and t-shirt, despite the autumnal weather, as could be expected of a breed famous for their thick, cold-resistant fur – and from one of the pockets in his shorts, he drew a smartphone and tapped it a few times.

"Here – message for you two!" He remarked, putting the phone down on the bed between their heads. Both sets of eyes zeroed in on it as the slightly-distorted voice of their Master came from its speaker. "My pet. My toy. I'm afraid I wound up even busier this week than I expected – unable to make our usual appointment Saturday, even! I'm sure you are disappointed, but have no fear – I haven't left you entirely in the lurch. I don't expect this band of losers to be able to replace me, but with five of them, they should at least be able to get within shouting-distance!" One of huskies snorted at this, rolling his eyes and mumbling something along the lines of 'mouth on that guy…', but neither Kian nor Tanya paid it any mind, being entirely focused on the continuing recording. "Serve them as you'd serve me, and show them the fruits of my training – if I hear good things from them, I may reward you when next we meet, but if you shame me, you will be punished harshly!"

With a slight click, the recording ended, and the nearest husky – who seemed to be the oldest of the litter, or at least someone they all listened to – collected the phone again. Both of the leopards had relaxed, now – the tension that had possessed their bodies when they realized the Master wasn't there, entirely gone. They had heard their Master's voice, after all, and his orders were absolute. If it was his will that they give themselves over to these five unfamiliar hounds, they would do so without hesitation. This, clearly, was not lost on the huskies, who were starting to grin and strip off their clothes. "A'ight, brothers…" one of them declared with a toothy grin "…only way we're gonna make Gil eat his words is by making this lovely young couple scream, moan, and beg for us to come back next week. Let's get to work!"

And to work they went. Underneath their thick fur the huskies were well-muscled, and they possessed the sort of stamina that had once let their ancestors drag heavy loads across the icy wastes of Siberia, Alaska and northern Canada for days on end. Thick, knotted cocks surrounded the leopards – enough to fill every available orifice, in fact, as they soon found out. Tanya, in particular, was enjoying a new pleasure – with her ass not having been stretched quite so thoroughly as her husband's, she was able to experience a proper 'tie' with that orifice. The stinging in her sphincter every time the big dog pulled back, straining her tissue with the bottom of his swollen knot, was delicious – and the dizzyingly rapid pace that this tie enabled, ensured a swift and steady supply of such stinging. Kian, meanwhile, was finding out what it felt like to have your tailhole stretch around a fully-expanded knot on every thrust – less quick, perhaps, but longer and more intense.

It was, granted, fairly clear that this pack of huskies didn't have the kind of sophisticated and specialized skills that their last three 'guests' had possessed. What they did have, however, was peerless teamwork – and a certain masochistic snow-leopard was soon reflecting, between orgasms, that there was something to be said for straightforward simplicity. She was somewhat familiar with the concept of 'running a train' on somebody – after all, she'd once caught her husband in the middle of one – but this was her first time on the receiving end… albeit, a more impactful version than was likely normal.

On her back with her legs bent up against her chest – with chains connecting her knees to her nipple-rings, keeping them there in a pleasantly painful fashion – the dogs were taking turns mounting her in 'mating-press' style, hammering her pussy with their knotted cocks while exploring her mouth with their long, wet tongue in sloppy, insistent kisses. At the same time, her exposed ass was being pounded by not one, but two harsh paddles. The huskies wielding them were moving like old-time railroad-workers, with each impact landing as the other pulled back, and doing so with good enough timing to not get tangled up, as well as sure enough aim to avoid their brother's swinging ballsack. Every strike was ever-so-slightly more painful than the last, as her ass grew steadily more deeply bruised, and the realization that she wouldn't be able to sit down for days – maybe weeks – without feeling it, was intensely arousing to her. Better yet, by the time the fifth of them was planting his seed in her already-overflowing pussy, the blunt paddles had been traded in for the whipcrack impact of rattan canes, drawing agonizing lines across the already-battered tissue – and making her cum her heart out, sucking passionately on the dog's tongue.

And where was Kian, during this 'train-ride'? On his knees, where he felt most comfortable – providing each of the huskies with a deep, thorough, and exquisitely skilled rimjob as they rotated through 'beating his wife's ass' duty. He dimly remembered from his earliest experiences with the various 'tops' at The Bear's Den that the canines tended to be particularly fond of rimjobs, and these huskies were certainly no exception – their tails brushed repeatedly across his forehead as they wagged with enjoyment while he drilled his tongue into the holes beneath, relishing both the bitter-salty taste and the sense of submission. The later was further reinforced whenever the role of the huskies 'shifted' – as the one who'd just finished fucking his wife stepped up to have the cum and pussy-juice licked off his cock, before letting the submissive leopard return to his anal meals.

There were other details also contributing to the addictive sense of debasement he was enjoying. His hands were still tied behind his back, for starters, ensuring that he was fully at the mercy of a firm grip on his headfur whenever the huskies saw fit to use his mouth as a cock-cleaning station. His chastity-cage had also been removed – apparently, the Master had passed the key for it on to this pack of dogs, along with the keycard for the front door – but while his shaft had consequently emerged into the air, hesitantly hardening and showing off the ring that crowned his cockhead, a set of urethral 'beads' had been shoved down his urethra to replace the usual pee-tube, leaving only the ring-grip poking out the tip. Thus, he couldn't actually cum, despite the pressure on his prostate – said pressure being provided by a new toy that the five huskies had brought. A canine dildo, with an inflatable knot – capable of expanding to an almost melon-like size, big enough to lock it safely in place even in his well-trained tailhole…

Of course, Kian had no complaints about that – he understood perfectly well that a chance to cum properly had to be earned, though devoted service, and even then it required the mercy and generosity of his Master… or, in this case, the five huskies that the Master had sent. But, that clearly wouldn't be easy – after he'd demonstrated his readiness to serve by cleaning five tailholes and five cocks fresh from his wife's increasingly overflowing pussy, he simply found himself down on all fours, his head shoved in between his wife's legs. Obedient to orders, he licked the gaping cunt, sucking down mouthful after mouthful of doggy-cum as it leaked from there, while they ran a train on his ass instead – having at least removed the oversized, inflatable-knot dildo to do so. Tanya, recovering from the many orgasms she'd already enjoyed, served as a 'fluffer' in the meantime – stimulating the hounds with her mouth and paws while they waited their turn at his ass.

It was only after this display of obedience that the huskies finally took pity on him. The fifth and last was still in his ass, pounding away – well-lubricated by the four cum-loads that had gone before – when he grabbed Kian by the headfur and pulled him back up to sit atop his cock. His face was drenched in his wife's juices and the five dogs' cum at this point, with much of their collected jizz having already made its way into his belly – a warm, slimy sensation, there, that upset his stomach a lot less than when it was filled with piss. "Ya know, Gil said we oughta reward spots here if he behaved like a good, obedient little kitten…" the husky whose cock he sat impaled upon remarked with a laugh "…and I'd say he's done that – what do you lot think?"

There seemed to be general agreement among the brothers that he had, indeed, been putting his tailhole and tongue at their disposal with suitable eagerness. "I know just how to reward him…" one of the others commented with a broad, wolfish grin, climbing off the bed and dragging Tanya along with him – making her groan slightly as her thoroughly tenderized rear touched the smooth sheets. "Get him on his feet!" A minute later, they were both standing… supported as much by the knotted husky-cocks in their respective asses, as by their actual legs. With firm grips on their shoulders and arms, they were guided together, both groaning and gasping – her, because of the coarse fur now rubbing against her brutalized behind, and him because the toy filling his urethra had just been torn out like it was a ripcord, leaving his cock twitching and smarting in its absence.

Then, they were pushed together, face to face – his cock easily sliding into her gaping pussy, where it was rapidly drenched in the abundant cum pouring out of it now that she was upright. The huskies hadn't held back when they took turns filling her womb – repeatedly stretching her inner labia with their swollen knots, just as they'd done to his sphincter. Heck, just as the one behind him was still doing to his sphincter! The one guiding his wife, meanwhile, had clearly attained a nice, solid tie, enabling him to control her hips with his own – forcing her to push insistently against her husband's twitching cock. The other three dogs were laughing at this perverse display of marital bliss, and adding their own touch to it – by reaching in and mashing their heads together, with an insistent "Now kiss!"

Kiss they did, obediently and passionately, both caught up in the erotic scene as they were mashed together like a cub's dolls – Kian, after all, was enjoying the humiliation, while his wife got off on being treated as a toy. He could taste the dog-cock on her tongue – she'd been sucking the huskies off until a minute ago, after all – and she could no doubt taste their musky tailholes on his. In the end, they had surprisingly much in common, he idly reflected as he felt the pressure build in his abdomen – more thanks to the knot grinding against his prostate than the loose, slimy sensation surrounding his cock. They were both degenerate perverts, both submissive bottoms, both devoted to the same Master… and, indeed, both perfectly willing to become the playthings of any number of other furs, if said Master so much as suggested it.

The day did not end with that, of course – though, for Kian, it was definitely one of the high points. The five huskies were all energetic, virile, and seemed to constantly egg each other on to reach new heights of perversion. By the time the pack had finally had their fill, it was fully dark outside the bedroom window, and both husband and wife were thoroughly worn out and exhausted. Tanya was battered and bruised from head to toe, with her tits, inner thighs, and even pussy having received much the same treatment as her ass, with a lighter whipping of her back and paw-pads, not to mention a few stinging slaps to the face, just for good measure. Kian, meanwhile, was clutching his groaning belly, his ass once again plugged by the canine dildo with the inflatable knot – his intestines were full of cum, with each of the brothers having dumped at least a couple of loads up there over the course of the evening, and his stomach was straining to contain five solid bladderfuls of strongly-scented dog-piss.

It was thus with a mixture of relief and regret that he watched the chastity-cage be attached to his sheathe and locked into place once again, while the five hounds pulled their simple clothes back on and prepared to leave. "Well, this was fun, no?" The one handling the chastity-device remarked with a grin – based on his fur-patterns, he seemed to be the same one who'd delivered the recorded message from the Master, so probably the closest the rowdy bunch had to a leader. "Dunno if we lived up to Gil's example but, if nothing else, I don't think we left you two wanting! Oh, and don't worry – from what he said, you'll probably see him again even before next Saturday."

Sure enough, halfway through the next week, a pair of rather overpriced theater-tickets went unused, and fancy attire was rapidly shed, when their Master walked, unannounced but eagerly welcomed, into their living-room. Soon after, Kian was sighing with contentment as he knelt between his Master's legs, gently caressing and massaging the big lion's fuzzy balls with his lips, tongue and gums, careful to avoid any contact between sensitive skin and sharp fangs. His tailhole was tingling expectantly – the Master had already promised that it was next, once he was done pounding Tanya's pussy – but honestly, he didn't actually care that much, nor was there any swelling in his sealed sheath, any urgent need for climax or release.

He was… happy, here, like nowhere else in the world. Kneeling at his Master's feet, servicing him with his mouth, breathing in his thick, musky scent – and feeling the warm, fuzzy sensation of knowing that he had pleased his master, that the willingness with which he serviced the five huskies last weekend had been seen and acknowledged. This was where he belonged, where his world's center lay – not in the boardroom, or behind the speaker's lectern, or in front of a camera. Was the world a simpler place, he would have happily spent the rest of his life there…

His wife, though, was somewhat… needier, he reflected as he glanced up at her bouncing ass – still marred with bruises and welts, as was much of the rest of her body. The designer dress that had just been so casually discarded on the floor was a rather conservative cut, and she'd be wearing similar attire for at least another week if she didn't want anyone to notice the bruises. She clearly craved the Master's cock, to the point where the sweet smell of her pussy's natural lubricants had started to spread through the room as soon as he walked in… well, not that he could blame her, as such, and the Master seemed to enjoy spoiling her, and he could at least give her credit for seemingly forgetting her masochistic preferences the moment she had a chance to fill her womb with the Master's cum. How much longer before her belly started to swell with the mighty lion's cubs..?

Even after such a pleasant interlude, however, they were both waiting with bated breath the next Saturday, kneeling naked and ready to welcome whatever their Master might bring. Four ears perked up hungrily at the sound of the front door opening, and four eyes narrowed curiously when they heard both paws and hooves ascending the stairs. The Master had brought another new friend to visit, and indeed seemed to be in a cheerful mood as he entered alongside a heavyset boar with a distinctly Italian accent, and the impressive name of Adiepe Scrofa. There was a sense of forced cheer about him, but once he was properly 'introduced' to the two waiting submissives, it gradually gave way to some genuinely bombastic energy.

His interest clearly lay more on Kian than on Tanya – who wasn't about to complain on that count, since it meant she got most of the Master's attention today, eagerly surrendering herself into his paws for a round of light torture and heavy hole-pounding. Her husband, meanwhile, had plenty of reason to squirm at the delicious depravity he suffered at the hands of the large, powerful boar. He had a powerful, masculine scent, and seemed quick to work up a sweat – ensuring that he was all but surrounded by a cloud of thick body-odor.

The leopard had plenty of opportunities to breathe in this scent as his coarse tongue obediently cleaned the boar's heavy, pendulous ball-sack, dank and sweaty ass-crack, and even his armpits for good measure. Of course, that was just foreplay – soon, he was learning of an entirely new kind of deepthroating. The brown-bristled boar had a remarkably long, but also rather slender, cock – with that infamous, corkscrew-like twist to its head. In Kian's well-trained tailhole, it would've had little impact. Pushed all the way down his throat, well, that was another matter – it was thin enough that he could still breathe around it, just barely, and with a firm hand on the back of his head, his nose was nestled fully under Adiepe's thick belly when he did so. It felt rather like the twitching pig-tool reached nearly to his stomach, and the sensation of, first cum, then later piss, pouring down his throat from so deep inside – denying him even the choice to swallow – made him writhe in humiliation and arousal.

Later on, the boar did show Tanya some attention, too – on the Master's urging. Specifically, he showed her the benefits of her 'training' – pulling out the thick toy that had nestled in her urethra for weeks now, since it had replaced a slightly smaller one, and proceeded to instead fuck that tiny orifice with his long, slender cock. The curvaceous snow-leopard writhed in pleasure and pain beneath his heavy body – easily able to tell that he wasn't going all out, seeing as doing so would likely have caused real damage to her. Maybe a third of his cock was actually inside her… but that was enough to extend into her bladder, deforming its back wall painfully, and the tightness of the orifice was no doubt causing equal amounts of pleasure to both of them. After stretching that hole for so long, and sometimes masturbating with the urethral dildos she'd been assigned, feeling an actual cock there – warm and smooth and throbbing – was indescribable. The sensation of his hot, plentiful cum pouring into her bladder, and the sense of strain as it was all sealed there with a final spurt of thick, glue-like ejaculate, was even better – giving her one of the strongest orgasms she'd ever had without her Master's direct involvement.

It was dawning on her that, more than just being one more mark that her Master's hand had left on her, her overstretched urethra had, in fact, become another fuckable orifice, another potential source of both pain and pleasure. For now, Adiepe's slender tool fit it well, but she had little doubt that it wouldn't stop there - thicker and thicker plugs, worn day in and day out, would gradually make it accessible to a growing number of males, and as her Master willed it, she'd happily spread that once-tight and highly sensitive hole for any given cock. Perhaps her husband's modest tool would be the next, though it would likely take months yet - feeling the reedy barbs along his cockhead scratch at her bladder would certainly be deliciously painful, and dipping his cock in her piss might strike him as suitably humiliating too...

As for said husband, he was getting a taste of the Master's cock, head down and panting on all fours as his tailhole was thoroughly reamed out. This had happened many times before, of course, but to the submissive leopard, this time felt special. The realization from earlier in the week had grown into something that felt almost like… enlightenment. Usually, the sensation of a big cock in his ass, especially his Master's, made his cock harden and strain against its prison of chastity, as the urge to cum, the need for release, grew in his abdomen. But this time, though he could feel the lion's thick member rub pleasantly against his prostate, nothing was stirring between his legs. Simply being able to serve as his Master's tight fuckhole, giving him pleasure, was all he needed, all he desired. With a sense of clarity, he realized that he'd never again beg his Master to be released from his chastity-cage – that, indeed, he'd happily wear it for the rest of his life, if that was his Master's will. A slave like him had no need for such ecstasy – his only pleasure should come from being useful to his Master. And, perhaps, from feeling his tailhole stretch around the cocks of bigger, fitter males…

There was more after this point, but… not that much, really. The whole session had been fairly relaxed and laid-back, altogether, and had lasted only a couple of hours, maybe three at most by Kian's best estimate. Not that he felt unsatisfied, of course – nor did his wife, at a glance. If anything, she probably needed the relatively gentle treatment that the Master had given her today, with only a bit of modest electro-torture and some heavy weights dangling from her nipple- and clit-rings while she was roughly pounded in all holes. She was still recovering from the bruises and welts she'd received last week, after all – heck, she'd been sitting noticeably tenderly until quite recently.

This meant, however, that they were rather less… dazed than usual, by the time the boar stepped out of the room to take a much-needed shower in the bathroom next door. And that, it seemed, was part of the Master's idea, based on the way he was grinning at them as he undid their remaining restraints, leaving them half-sitting, half-reclining on their bed. "You two both with me still, eh? Good, good…" he remarked with a sagely nod. "See, there was something I wanted to talk to you about, preferably while your minds aren't too scrambled. While I was away last week, I had an idea…"

The Master proceeded to explain to them how he'd looked around their mansion a bit during previous visits, which of course he had every right to do. "Honestly, you're not using even a third of the rooms, are you?" he commented with a shake of his mightily-maned head. "Heck, other than the wine-cellar, your basement's been completely neglected. So, it occurred to me – why not put some of that space to use?" What he outlined was a basement 'playroom' – in other words, a full-on sex-dungeon, and both of them were nodding eagerly even before he'd finished explaining. "I mean, not that it hasn't been fun to just use your bedroom, but it does somewhat limit options…" he concluded, very much preaching to the choir at that point. "I've even had to avoid using that hook in the ceiling, lately, since it seems to be working its way loose. Wasn't really meant to support the weight of a person, I suppose!"

Honestly, Kian felt embarrassed that he hadn't thought of it himself. Of course the Master should have a dedicated room in his… in their mansion, outfitted with suitable restraints and other amenities. "I'll find some contractors and get them started on the double!" He promised, only to wince as his Master shook his head sadly, clicking his tongue. "Come, now – think about that statement for a moment, pet…" the wise lion corrected him. "Contractors, hired to fit a mansion with a fully-kitted sex-dungeon? No matter what kind of contracts you have 'em sign, somebody on that work-crew will be selling the details to the tabloid press within days. It's way too juicy, and valuable, a secret to pass up."

Kian's ears drooped at that. It was… hard, sometimes, to remember that all that other stuff still mattered, at least when he was in his Master's presence. His public life, running a company, attending parties alongside his socialite wife, ensuring that neither her father nor his other, skittish investors detected anything 'odd' about their relationship. What did it all matter, anyway? Both he and his equally-perverted wife could probably make a decent living selling their bodies in the streets and alleys near The Bear's Den, without having to pretend to be something they were not… but, no, they couldn't expect the Master to visit some run-down shack on the bad side of town every week, could they? So, appearances had to be maintained.

"Well, don't worry – I did think this through…" the Master explained, immediately drawing both their attentions away from the near-identical idle musings they'd both just enjoyed. "See, there's a reason I've been introducing you to so many friends of mine! Some of 'em have skills, some of 'em have contacts – and some are just strong backs. The huskies know a thing or two about building-maintenance, Red's got his general mechanical knowledge, Ivan's a skilled electrical engineer… and Shezai has a contact that can get you the appropriate 'furniture' and other fittings at wholesale prices, in a way that no muckraking paparazzi will be able to trace back to you. And as for Adiepe…"

The thickset boar was reentering the bedroom, freshly-showered, as Gil explained – though Kian's sharp nose couldn't help but notice that already, his powerful scent was reasserting itself through the haze of perfumed soap. He looked curious at the mention of his name, and the lion gestured towards him with a flourish and a grin. "…well, if you invite some friends over to help you with a DIY-project, you don't have to pay them, but you do need to provide them with plenty of cold beer and hot pizza…" the lion explained, causing Adiepe's eyes to suddenly light up. "And my friend here can cook up some fresh, delicious, piping-hot pizza, right on site, as long as you provide the materials."

Adiepe seemed in agreement on that point – indeed, he almost seemed more enthusiastic about this proposal than about any of the sexual contortions that had gone before, Kian noted with some amusement. "Pizza for all of you? I can do, si! Best pizza you ever taste!" he grandly declared "There is more to Italy than pizza, you know, but… it is world-famous for good reason, amici miei!" There wasn't really much to debate, beyond that. After all, the Master had spoken, and neither leopard nor snow-leopard would dream of questioning his ability to bring the rest of the furs he'd mentioned in on the plan. Nor his ability to design the layout of their new 'playroom', as he'd generously promised to do. "You know interior decorating, Gil? I did not know this of you!" The boar queried with a grin, at that offer, prompting the lion to shrug and smile shyly. "Don't know about that – but I do have some experience in dungeon-design…" was his reply, which made perfectly good sense to his two devoted servants.

The project got underway with remarkable speed, starting right away the following week. After all, the Master was graciously arranging everything, Kian thought with a deep sense of gratitude. All he had to do was buy several cases of beer, and a list of ingredients that Adiepe had sent him. As well as, of course, transferring some money to Shezai for the new furniture, and to the husky brothers for general construction-supplies. None of those transfers involved receipts or contracts – that would just be a risky paper-trail, after all, and there was no need for it anyway. The Master had vouched for them all – and, besides, considering that both he and his wife had so readily surrendered their bodies to them all, there was little point in belatedly mistrusting them!

And so, the next weekend was… different. Instead of the usual Saturday routine, it started early as the various 'friends' that the Master had introduced arrived, bringing with them various supplies in innocuous trucks emblazoned with the logos of a local general contractor – another clever ploy, courtesy of their wise Master. If any journalist thought to ask, all that had happened was some maintenance-work on the aging mansion. But, of course, what was actually happening was a lot of cheerful people setting to work converting a moldy, disused basement-room into a luxurious sex-dungeon, while Adiepe the Boar set up shop in the mansion's little-used kitchen – singing Italian sonnets loudly enough for his voice to carry down to the basement as he worked.

It only took that one weekend to get it all done – aided immensely by the Master's presence, leading and directing the work with easy authority. Walls were sanded down and repainted, ventilation-systems and dehumidifiers fitted, suitable mood-lighting installed – and a variety of restraints, bondage-furniture, and storage-space for sex-toys and tools of punishment put into place. Throughout the weekend, Adiepe cheerfully kept everyone supplied with three square meals per day, including the obligatory pizzas each evening, and snacks besides – all as tasty and fragrant as anyone could've asked for, with each meal being adjusted to the varying dietary preferences of the construction-crew.

Throughout those two days, Kian and Tanya never left the house, and wore nothing save their collars. It had taken very little prompting from their Master for them to understand their role, after all. Neither of them had the kind of practical skills needed to actually assist with the work – any attempt to do so, would only result in them getting in the way, or causing damage that their honored visitors would then have to fix. No, their role was simply to provide… hospitality, by putting their bodies entirely at the disposal of their guests, at any and all times. It was honestly surprisingly easy to make the switch from doing this for just a handful of hours a Saturday afternoon, to spending the whole weekend as an obedient slave and an eager toy.

After all, with ten visitors – counting the Master – and a single room, everybody couldn't work all at once. They had to take turns, just to avoid getting underfoot of each other and, of course, take regular breaks to rehydrate and relax. And throughout these breaks, the mansion's owners were happily at their disposal, in any way it suited them – every orifice was ready to receive any cock that cared to use it, every order was swiftly and unquestioningly obeyed, and no task was too painful or humiliating for them. Of course, it helped that they all knew what they were dealing with, and directed their desires accordingly…

Kian, thus, had ample opportunity to demonstrate his unrestrained eagerness to serve – in addition to having his tailhole frequently and vigorously reamed out, he offered up his mouth as a mobile urinal for everyone's free use, as well as spending plenty of time carefully cleaning the sweat-dripping sacks and ass-cracks of the hard-working males with his tongue. Tanya, meanwhile, got a taste of the brutally simple tortures that a construction-site could offer – including spending several hours with her tits nailed to a board while the impact-resistance of various building-supplies were tested on her exposed rear. But, of course, they both understood that such a division of labor was at their visitors' discretion – a slave and a toy had no will to assert, and no say in how they were used. Both of them knew this already, of course, but spending so many unbroken hours living that truth, helped it sink in deeper. As did spending the night, not in their grand bedroom on the second floor, but caged in the half-finished dungeon. Knowing that tomorrow would be filled with pain, humiliation and enforced service, they both slept better than they had in years – and when hard cocks invaded their loose holes to provide them with a perverse wake-up call, they rose refreshed and well-rested.

Thus, it was with a certain bittersweet feeling that the couple saw their new sex-dungeon complete on Sunday evening. Toys and tools previously secreted in various nooks and crannies across the mansion had now been relocated to cabinets and toy-chests in the dungeon, several intriguing pieces of 'furniture' had already been baptized in blood, sweat and various other bodily juices, and a pair of small cages stood ready to welcome their designated residents at any point. The guests were leaving, declaring that the weekend had been 'fun', with Adiepe seeming downright sad to be leaving the kitchen he'd occupied behind. In the end, only the Master remained, as Kian and Tanya reluctantly started thinking again, leaving behind two days worth of blissful obedience.

"Truly, Master, we cannot thank you enough…" Kian declared, bowing deeply while his wife replicated the gesture beside him. His voice was a bit rough, what with his throat having seen plenty of use over the past couple of days, but hopefully his heartfelt sentiment was audible all the same. "You made this happen with such ease! And now, we finally have a space worthy of your magnificence. Shall we await you here next Saturday, then? How would you like us to present ourselves?" The great lion nodded slowly, rubbing his chin – but his expression was kind of… sad, almost? Had they done something wrong, disappointed him in some way? The very notion was enough to make their hearts ache.

"By all means, yes, make good use of this place for future sessions…" the Master replied heavily. "And as for how exactly you should wait, well, I've got a few fun ideas, perhaps you can rotate them! However, there's another matter we should discuss first." His face seemed serious, and with some effort, they both straightened up and kicked their brains into gear. If the Master wished to converse rather than just command, they would obey in this too. "Well, I suppose I should start with the pleasant part, though!" the lion continued, his face lighting up a bit. "This weekend was, indeed, grand – everybody worked together well, and it confirmed what I've felt since the first time you invited me into your mansion… it's simply too big, too empty, and too cold to be a proper home with just you two and all those cleaning-robots here!"

For a moment, a bright spark of ecstatic hope appeared in Kian's mind. Was… was the Master suggesting that he might move in? To have him around all the time would be a dream come true – perhaps he could, appropriately enough, take over the Master Bedroom, while they slept in their new cages in the dungeon. But, alas, he had to quickly quash that thought, though a glance at his wife's face told him that she'd had the same idea, but was being slower to recognize it as a vain hope. The Master wouldn't be so serious if that was his idea – surely, he already understood that they would be overjoyed to serve him every day, instead of just on Saturdays and a few short times during the week.

"So, I had an idea…" the wise lion explained. "This place was originally designed to be maintained by a modest staff of servants, right? There's a bunch of empty rooms meant for them, and facilities they're meant to use. And the furs who were here this weekend, helping with the new dungeon? Truth is, while they're all far too proud to ask for handouts, from you two or anyone else, they're all in rather dire straits, in one way or another…" Kian and Tanya, neither of whom had ever really needed to worry about keeping a roof over their heads or food on the table – with Kian having been born into a modestly wealthy upper-middle-class family, before ascending to the same peaks of affluence his wife considered normal – listened with growing concern as they learned that the furs who'd brought them such pleasure, and delicious, delicious pain, over the past few weeks, were all struggling in their own ways…

Ivan the bear was a certified electric engineer… in Russia. But, living under an assumed name meant that none of his old accomplishments could be used for job-hunting, and the only work he'd been able to find was at a downtown chop-shop, earning pennies tearing apart stolen cars for their parts while constantly worrying that a police raid might expose him as an 'illegal' and see him repatriated back to Russia. Why, exactly, this would be Very Bad for him was left unmentioned, but Tanya in particular could easily imagine.

Brad – or rather, Red – the horse, had a criminal background. He'd once been a freelance getaway-driver, working with various gangs throughout the city and putting his superb driving-skills at their disposal for a price. However, a few close shaves had convinced him to turn his life around – but, the only work he could find was as a cab-driver in the rougher parts of town, where he was constantly running into old 'acquaintances' who often tried to pressure him to come out of retirement for 'one last gig'. It was stressing him out and making him avoid busy areas, which also meant fewer fares, which also meant struggling to make ends meet.

Shezai, as had been mentioned during the atavistic hyena's visit, ran a piercing-parlor downtown… but not for much longer. The neighborhood she was operating out of was rapidly becoming gentrified, which meant rising rent and fewer customers for an establishment such as hers. She'd been forced to start searching for both new locations, and new work – but prejudice against 'throwbacks' such as her was causing both landlords and employers to avert their eyes. The fact that such treatment tended to trigger her fiery temper did… not improve matters.

The five huskies turned out to be named Edward, Frederick, Theodore, Nedrick and Arnaud thanks to their French-Canadian mother naming the last-born after their father, who'd apparently gotten an early start on a very 'dad' sense of humor, ran out of ideas. They obviously went by Ed, Fred, Ted, Ned and… Arnaud, and had always been thick as thieves, refusing to be parted. Unfortunately, there were few places where five huskies with no higher education could reliably work together, so they'd started a landscaping-company… which had gone bankrupt two years ago. Then they'd started a janitorial firm together… which was now teetering on the edge of insolvency as well. As it turned out, running a small business in this economy while refusing to fire any employees because they're also your brothers, was hard.

As for Adiepe the boar, he'd been raised in New York's Little Italy, with an abiding love for cooking and food leading him to become a professional chef. Of course, there was a lot of competition in the area, so when his uncle had offered to set him up with his own restaurant in LA, he'd jumped at the opportunity. Unfortunately, said uncle was a… family man, and the new restaurant had been part of a money-laundering scheme, which eventually saw it raided and shut down by the cops. Adiepe had been blissfully ignorant of it all, and was eventually cleared of all charges, but the whole thing had exposed his familial ties to the New York Mafia and seen him branded as a criminal who 'got off on a technicality' in the eyes of the locals – making it impossible for him to either find other employment in the restaurant-business or secure the loans needed to start a new place of his own.

"You understand what I'm suggesting, right?" Gil asked with a slight smile as both leopards sported looks of growing interest. "Obviously, they wouldn't accept any proposal that smacked of the rent-boy's trade, but if you simply… offered them work, here, with room and board included, and left the fact that they'll be able to have their way with you two whenever they please as an unspoken perk of the job? They won't turn you down. As a bonus, there'll be no more outsiders coming in here to do cleaning or maintenance – giving you more privacy to be yourselves at home."

Indeed, their Master had even considered viable positions for all of the mentioned furs. The huskies could serve as gardeners and 'maids', keeping the mansion clean and the garden neat, as well as handling anything else that just required a few strong backs lifting in unison. Ivan was a shoe-in for 'private security' while maintaining the mansions' electrical systems on the side. Red would make for an excellent chauffeur, and also had the skills needed to maintain their car, and various other mechanical devices, with a bit of help from Ivan. Adiepe, needless to say, would be perfect as a chef, cooking for everybody just as he'd done this weekend.

"And Shezai…" the lion concluded, his smile growing a bit "…well, in addition to being able to provide piercings and body-art for anyone who wants it, she's been running her own business for a decade and actually has some really solid administrative skills. You may not realize it, but she cleans up nicely – if she removes her facial piercings and slips into a tailored pant-suit, she can make for a perfectly convincing Personal Secretary, managing appointments and fielding phone-calls. Of course, having to gussy herself up like that will piss her off, but being able to take her aggression out on her boss' ass on the regular should keep her cheerful!"

It all sounded perfect. Even if they weren't the Master, the nine furs they'd gotten to know over the past month were all fine Tops, able to dish out pain and humiliation alike in ample measure. Kian, in particular, was feeling a rising arousal as he contemplated the proposal, his cock stirring in his sheath for the first time in a while – it had been quiet throughout the weekend, the chastity-seal unbroken and his recent revelation about his role in full force, but the idea of being regularly used and abused by his own staff of servants, maybe even slipping away during work to get bent over a copy-machine and fucked hard by his secretary, was enough to get through to it.

However… once again, this didn't explain the Master's serious demeanor, or the sadness in his eyes. "It will be as you say, Master, of course!" Kian quickly declared, before bracing himself as best he could. "But… there is something else, too, isn't there?" The lion looked at him, nodded and sighed. "Well… I don't expect them all to be able to replace me, any more than the husky brothers could a few weeks ago, but if they all move in here, you certainly won't be alone, and your needs will be taken care of…" he intoned, causing them both to freeze up like statues, wide-eyed with horror as the implications of his words sank in.

"Don't look so surprised…" he continued, rolling his wide shoulders in a casual shrug. "I told you both, right at the outset – I'm a free spirit, and I go where my passions take me. The months we've had together have been grand, make no mistake – and I can't say that the idea of joining the rest in your 'employ', maybe playing the role of the Butler who secretly rules the house with an iron paw, doesn't hold some appeal. But, I can tell – I've been here too long already, and it's time for me to move on. Well, not right this moment, so don't panic – I'll stick around for a few more weeks, enough to make sure the whole 'arrangement' we just discussed gets up and running without issue. Just… not much longer than that, probably."

Tears were already flowing from two sets of eyes. The Master… gone. Moving on, leaving them behind. It was heartbreaking, even if the care he had taken to ensure that they would not be left alone once again showed his generosity and noble spirit. While Kian struggled to digest the message, trying to make his mind comprehend the idea of a future without his Master, however, his wife seemed less willing to simply accept what she had heard. "You… you can't just go!" Tanya declared, struggling to keep her voice steady. "I… I wanted to wait until it showed, but… I'm pregnant! I used a test and… and it was positive, and you can't just leave your cub!"

Her words seemed to stun the Master, just for a moment – while Kian felt a mixture of elation and relief. Even if he wouldn't stay… they'd at least have a part of him, to care for together. Then that moment passed, and the big lion sighed, closing his eyes and nodding. "I see… congratulations, you two. Happy news indeed. But… that cub isn't mine." As he opened his eyes again, the certainty in his voice stunned them both into silence, while the cogs in Kian's mind slowly started to creak, recalling for him the various times when, as part of some act of debasement or torture, he'd been made to ejaculate into his wife's well-worn pussy.

"Hadn't you ever wondered how a lion gets to be as… big as I am?" Their master continued with a shrug. "I mean, it's hardly normal. But the answer to that is simple – I'm not a lion. I just favor my father enough to pass as one, with the help of a bit of fur-dye. To hide the stripes, y'know." Tanya, who'd been remembering the same interactions as her husband, blinked and put two and two together. She'd read up on all the facts and issues surrounding feline hybrids, after all – even before the Master came into their life, she'd been married to a leopard, making it rather relevant. "You're… a Liger?" She asked in dawning realization. The offspring of a male lion and a female tiger were somewhat infamous due to the genetic quirk created by that particular combination, causing the cub to grow significantly bigger than either parent – which, unfortunately, tended to spark a number of health-issues in the long term.

Gil nodded firmly. "Yup. And my parents weren't wealthy – not enough to afford fancy in-vitro gene-therapy for me. Though, honestly, it was rather experimental back then anyway." Which, of course, meant that he was sterile by nature, and couldn't have impregnated her no matter how many times he'd filled her womb with his cum, Tanya reflected as he continued. "Honestly, the whole thing about getting you to drop your birth-control was mostly just a… game, of sorts." His usual, mischievous grin reappeared for a moment on his handsome face. "It made things more fun, didn't it? Thinking I might knock you up at any point. The sense of submission from willingly letting me. Even your husband got off on it, in his own way." He made a final shrug, then, and shook his head. "But, it was just a game. And I made sure never to invite any other felines over, who might wind up doing the deed in my stead. So, the only possible father is, indeed, your husband. Make sure the cub gets all that gene-therapy I didn't, eh?" With that, their only possible argument had collapsed – as had Tanya, crying and shaking, into her husband's arms.

Kian breathed a sigh of relief as his limo passed through the automated gate, entering the mansion's expansive garden. Ivan was sitting in the guard-hut beside it, reading a book – barely looking up to wave as they passed through. There was no real need for him to be there, of course – he could easily monitor the gate from his room in the main house, thanks to the advanced security-system. But that hut was his space, and the laconic bear liked to have his space, so he often retreated there to read or nap in peace. The manor, after all, was far more lively these days than it once had been.

"Hah! New personal best!" Red remarked, glancing down at the dashboard clock, a grin on his equine face. He always got them back home in half the time Kian himself could've managed, and apparently, he'd been even faster this time. It was honestly easy to remember the 'former getaway-driver' part of his resume, when you were holding on for dear life in the back of the car. Not only did he always drive like he had a few millions worth of untraceable currency in the trunk, he also seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to cops, speed-cameras, and similar impediments – often changing routes on the fly to avoid such hazards, or slowing down to toe the speed-limit for just long enough to slip past them.

Looking out the toned window, Kian spotted three of the huskies at work in the garden, trimming bushes and hedges. He still struggled to tell them apart, if he had to be honest, but his best estimate in this case was Fred, Ted and Ned. They looked up from their work to wave cheerfully at the car, and Red – who had already rolled down the driver-side window now that they were home free – waved back. The tall horse had wound up becoming quite chummy with the rough-and-ready pack of hounds, with them often joking about replacing their youngest brother, Arnaud, with him in order to finally have a full set of -eds.

His reflection was interrupted by a groan, and the familiar sensation of powerful paws tightening their grip on his hips, holding them in place. There was no feeling of warm sliminess spreading in his guts, of course, but he could still easily tell when Shezai came. After all, he usually spent the trip home riding on her lap, his suit-pants around his ankles as she worked off the frustrations of yet another workday on his ass. It didn't really matter that she didn't have testicles, and couldn't cum in his ass in the literal sense – he was still able to bring her off with his tailhole, and thus get the thrill of having served his purpose well.

With a sigh, the rictus-hard body underneath him finally relaxed, the intensity of the orgasm passed. The grip relaxed, and with practiced routine, he rose off the hyena's lap and shifted his body to squat between her legs so that he could quickly dive in and start licking her cock clean. Of all the new residents, Shezai was the strictest, the most disciplinarian, and the quickest to dole out punishments for any perceived shortcoming – so he'd learned to anticipate her orders and act before she could even say a thing. Failing to be ready by the time they'd parked in the garage… that would undoubtedly earn him a punishment. But, his tongue and lips were seasoned by now, and intimately familiar with the contours of every available cock – and Red, fortunately, tended to drive at a sedate pace through the gardens.

"Passable, pet…" Shezai remarked once the limo stopped in the garage, pulling her pants up. Her cock was sparkling clean, and she apparently had no complaint about his performance. Appreciative of the compliment, he bowed his head, waiting for her to step out of the car before pulling up his own trousers and following suit. She'd started calling him that, a while ago, he reflected. Trying her best to step up to the plate, and fill some very big pawprints. Well, if he was ever going to call anybody else 'Master', it'd probably be her. And, yes, he was quite sure that she'd prefer that over 'Mistress'…

It took him a little while to get inside, not unexpectedly. A good drive always got Red's blood pumping, so it was a rare day when the journey home didn't include being bent over the hood of the car while his tailhole was reamed out by a painfully-large horse-cock. Not that he minded, of course, especially since Red – unlike Shezai – always took the time to plug up his ass after he was done, ensuring no spillage and a nice, warm, feeling in his belly to start the better part of the day off right.

Of course, he also had to clean the stallion's thick member afterwards, which took some time – but, once he was done and his pants had been pulled up again, at least for the moment, he was able to stagger out of the garage and into the living-room, where he found a pair of half-naked huskies busily spit-roasting his noticeably pregnant wife on the couch. That would be Ed and Arnaud then, he concluded as walked past them, bowing his head deferentially. Tanya was on all fours, and Ed – the eldest of the five huskies – was tied in her ass, pounding her rapidly and making her pregnant belly sway underneath her body. They were getting her used to this position, he knew – as her pregnancy advanced, it'd become one of the only practical ways to fuck her. And of course, being a living sex-toy, her holes were entirely at the disposal of everyone in the house, regardless of how heavy her belly got…

"Heya, spots…" Arnaud commented, raising his head – he was deepthroating Tanya with long, slow strokes, and thus rather less distracted than his older brother. "How was work?" Kian bobbed his head politely. "Tiring but profitable, Sir. We landed a big government contract." He referred to all the other residents of the mansion as 'sir', including Shezai – as did his wife. The term 'Master' was… too heavy, too painful. So, 'sir' would serve as a suitable term of respect and deference. "Has the toy been behaving herself today?" He asked, nodding towards his wife. Her pregnancy had provided her with an excellent excuse to dial back her social calendar, and spend more time at home – living the life of the masochistic fucktoy she truly was.

Arnaud sighed and thrust his hips forwards, pushing his full length down the curvy snow-leopard's throat and forcing her jaws to spread wide around his knot. Consummate cocksucker that she was, there was no sign of resistance or struggle as her air was cut off. "Well, you know we can't be as rough with her as she deserves these days…" the dog remarked sadly. "But, we're making sure the lines on her ass never get the chance to fade, and trying to satisfy her insatiable sluttiness." Indeed, the pregnancy seemed to have increased her appetites even more than usual, Kian reflected – probably something hormonal. But, there appeared to be a particular edge to it today, he thought – she seemed almost regretful when the husky pulled his hips back, allowing her to breathe again, like she'd been hoping he'd skullfuck her into unconsciousness. Not likely, as long as she was pregnant!

Ed's flickering hips stopped, and a sonorous howl flowed from his lips as he poured his cum into the snow-leopard's ass. As his breathing stabilized, he too glanced over at Kian, raising a fuzzy eyebrow. "Hurry up and get changed, spots…" he growled. "Adiepe's been hard at work in the kitchen all afternoon, makin' something special for dinner, and you know how he gets when he's focused on his craft." Bobbing his head apologetically, Kian obediently dashed off, leaving the two hounds to continue using his wife as they pleased.

It was always a relief to slip out of the stiff, Italian suit, and into something more 'comfortable'… meaning, for him, a collar, a chain between his nipples, and nothing else. Attire suited for a mere sex-slave. The feeling of the worn-smooth leather against his throat relaxed him immediately, and it was with a smile on his lips that he made his way down towards the kitchens. He paused wistfully on his way past the stairs that led down to the basement, though, for just a moment. Another few days 'till the weekend, 'till Saturday. Honestly, even Friday night was pretty nice, heading down there to his waiting cage instead of up to the Master Bedroom. Knowing that he'd be spending the entire next day as a willing prisoner there, eating his meals from a bowl on the floor, servicing his staff with all his heart and doing his best to forget the world outside those four soundproofed walls. Tanya, of course, right there next to him, screaming and cumming her way through hours upon hours of extreme and exotic tortures - limited only by her ongoing pregnancy, and certainly not by any sort of mercy on the torturers' part. Saturday night might pass in a cage, sore and exhausted, slimy with sweat and juices - or strapped into one of the dungeon's various pieces of furniture, potentially even at the mercy of some sex-machine or mild torture until dawn, when the existence of the outside world, and various unavoidable Sunday plans, regrettably reasserted themselves...

Shaking off his reverie, Kian continued down the hallway, suppressing the slight stirring he suddenly felt in his chastity-locked sheath. It wasn't as if the dungeon was only for the weekend, but outside of those traditional Saturday sessions, any trip to it was entirely at the staff's discretion. For now, he had duties to see to, he sternly reminded himself as he stepped into the kitchen, bowing respectfully towards his chef. The heavyset boar did indeed appear to have been busy there, and several countertops were filled with what seemed to be a work-in-progress feast – which also meant that he'd worked up a major sweat despite wearing nothing but an apron, and that he'd neglected bathroom-breaks.

Kian dutifully assisted with both. His stomach couldn't quite handle being everyone's urinal, all the time, but that was for them to manage – being naught but a lowly slave, it was unthinkable for him to turn down any opportunity to gulp down a bladderful of hot piss, especially if it meant that someone didn't have to interrupt what they were doing to go to the bathroom. Adiepe required his services particularly often, due to his habit of focusing so intently on his cooking – and, coincidentally, also had some remarkably strong-tasting piss. Of course, that flavor had little chance to linger on his tongue, since the next order of business was to refresh the sweaty boar by thoroughly tongue-cleaning his swampy ass-crack and tailhole.

He always felt a bit dizzy after performing this service, thanks mainly to the boar's strong-scented sweat soaking into his face-fur, ensuring that the smell lingered in his nose well after the fact. Pleasantly vague, he remained on his knees after finishing, swaying slightly, letting his eyes and mind lose focus while he enjoyed the sensation of the boar's heavy hand patting him on the head and complimenting him on his tongue-skills. Still, he reminded himself, it wouldn't do to just stay there, any more than he could just saunter down to the dungeon to enjoy its pleasures – he needed to make his rounds, and make sure that everybody who lived in the mansion had easy access to a tight tailhole and a skilled tongue, anytime and anywhere they needed it, especially since his wife was less mobile these days.

"You can look forwards to dinner!" Adiepe remarked excitedly as Kian somewhat shakily got back to his feet, a wide grin on his porcine face. "I make many of my finest dishes!" Kian nodded pleasantly, licking his lips – much as he'd come to enjoy the taste of cum, piss and ass, the boar's cooking was undeniably delicious. "I am certain everyone will be delighted, Sir…" he replied "But is there some special occasion? This seems like… a lot." The menu was, of course, entirely at Adiepe's discretion. The other residents sometimes made suggestions, but he and his wife ate what they were given – sometimes garnished with some fresh cum.

The boar shrugged, looking across his ongoing work. "Is much, si…" he acknowledged. "But, wanted to… eh. Little toy is sad, no? Has been three months today. So, thought good food might cheer her up!" With a sudden stab of pain, Kian understood, nodding silently and leaving the kitchen without further discussion, feeling a growing urge to serve, to be used. He hadn't been counting the days, but no doubt, Tanya had. Three months since the last time they'd seen the Master. So, roughly three-and-a-half since he'd told them of his intent to leave. He'd turned up a few times after that, mostly to help the mansion's new residents settle in, as well as celebrating their new employment with them. Then… nothing. No dramatic, final farewell. He'd simply left one day, and never returned. They'd made a half-hearted attempt to contact him, but nobody actually knew where he lived, and his old phone-number had been canceled. Just as suddenly and mysteriously as he'd come into their lives, he had left again.

His paws sped up as he moved through the mansion, a warm sense of gratitude warring with the sudden darkness in his heart. Adiepe was going out of his way to help, just like all the staff worked hard to make Saturdays more than just 'the day when the Master used to come'. He ought to show his appreciation. Maybe Ed and Arnaud were still going at his wife, and would enjoy having their tailholes cleaned while they fucked her? Maybe the other three would want a break from their gardening-work to pound his tailhole and pour some more hot cum into his intestines. Maybe Ivan wouldn't mind getting a blowjob while he read his book. Maybe… maybe he needed a really nice meal to feel better too, if he had to be honest. But, for now, serving his purpose and being the best slave-boy he could be, would suffice to distract him from the gaping hole that the Master's disappearance had left in his heart…

---

The Lion paused, looking up from the small suitcase – well, next to him, it was small, anyway. His heavy brow creased, he turned to glance over at the Mouse, who had resumed her true form and size in order to get her own packing done. Most of the safehouse's contents would stay right where they were, ready for the next time they needed to operate in this area, but there were a few things that would travel with them as they departed for their next mission. "Say… those two, and the rest of them, they'll be all right – right?" He asked hesitantly. The tears in their eyes as he'd told them he had to go had stuck with him, and he felt the need for… affirmation.

The Mouse looked up in turn, flashing him a smile and nodding firmly. "Of course they will…" she reassured him. "That was the mission, after all. Heck, that was why we specifically had to make sure they had a cub – to ensure that their family was stable in the long term. And as for the rest, well, they're attached to the household now, and will benefit from that same stability. Everybody will be safe and happy for years to come. Heck, they're gonna have a second cub, not long after the first, and all your friends will work together to look after the youngsters. Takes a village to raise a cub, right?"

Her Foresight, unlike his, was excellent. There were some among the ranks of the Nephilim who could see further than her, but not many – though, of course, their Lord numbered among them, for it was his millennia-long plan that they followed. So she could, indeed, perceive what the future held for the cute young couple they'd so carefully cultivated over the last half-year or so… though, there was probably no need to tell her lovely Lion that the hardest part had been holding back his Radiance enough to ensure that they didn't become fully dependent on it. Always a delicate balancing-act, that – if she'd messed up, the pair would've likely abandoned their lives and wealth to spend the rest of their lives desperately searching for their lost Master.

Of course, the list of things she didn't tell him was long. It was better that way. Even now, there was a glorious smile on his face as he contemplated the future happiness and prosperity of their targets, and the friends he'd made during this mission. Besides, she wasn't lying to him, the Mouse reminded herself as she returned to her packing. It wasn't as if he'd asked how this mission might fit into the Great Plan. Nor was she supposed to know, as such – but, with her Foresight, she had noticed a number of things that she strongly suspected were relevant. Like how that snow-leopard's father had increased his investment in the leopard's company after hearing about the pregnancy, and how this investment had enabled it to snap up a lucrative government contract…

A contract for creating new, up-to-date guidance-systems for the United State's aging arsenal of nuclear-tipped ICBM's. Guidance-systems that would thus be fabricated by a company with strong, economic links to a Russian oligarch. The final result of this, she could not entirely perceive, but… well. Wherever it would all lead, Kian and Tanya and their cubs and their lodgers, would all live joyful, love-filled lives until then. And that was all a mortal could really ask for, right?

END

…but the Great Plan is not yet complete.