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My life had become the kindest form of torture I could imagine. I was 48, my boyfriend was not. Samel was 21. We’d moved to Fowling together two years ago after a frantic summer fling became the only thing I had left in the world. Living in a big city was a lot to adjust to, I didn’t feel like I fit in well but it was better than home.

I had grown so accustomed to disappointing prospects that having a sole source of positivity in my life made me cling to Samel when I knew I should release him. Nearly every person I’d formed some kind of connection with here drifted away as soon as I let them into my personal life. Disapproval rained down on me and my relationship, but we found solidarity in each other.

Things could be worse. I’d fucked up every relationship I’d ever had. I’d lost friends. Family didn’t speak to me. Almost every other single gay guy in my hometown had taken a chance on me at some point, but Samel had stuck.

And he cared about me in ways nobody else had. He brought me fulfilment I’d never known, and it was torture. Every new rejection only added to the burden of guilt I tried to carry in silence but my stupid boyfriend kept helping me deal with it. I wanted to be alone and to torture myself over the things I’d done with him.

Instead, I saw a therapist once a month and a psychiatrist twice a year. A steady stream of mood stabilisers kept me within a fairly normal range of functioning, for the most part. It didn’t entirely curb all of my impulses and moods and my mental rituals were just as cruel as ever, but I could keep them in line with some effort. Still, the urge was there to indulge them. To shake myself to my core and stab cold, brutal truths into my brain repeatedly until I wanted to beat myself senseless.

I lived the life of a guilty man waiting to be imprisoned even though I knew it wouldn’t come. I hadn’t done anything illegal, yet I felt like just as much of an outcast as if I had.

These were the musings of one lonely autumn afternoon, normally Samel would keep me company but he was in his last year of his undergraduate medical science degree and had started tutoring some of the freshmen to earn a bit of cash on the side. That was him though, he was an overachiever in ways I could never be. I was holding him back. He deserved someone younger. Someone smarter. Someone he could proudly call his partner.

Not me, never me.

His key clicked in the door and I physically jolted. Comfort rushed to smother my darker thoughts and he swept in with a smile that was infectious. He swung his backpack off of his shoulder and threw himself on my lap, he curled against me to breathe my scent as he sighed.

I grinned down on him, I don’t know what I’d done to deserve such a cute guy at this point in my life. He was a lithe tiger, all soft and cuddly where other tigers would be brawny. He barely reached my shoulders and the difference in our stature meant he couldn’t resist anything I wanted to do to him, but often it was him pushing for more. I tried not to think of how I’d sculpted his sexuality. He was a virgin when I first got my hands on him, now he was my freak. My tiger slut. Guilt made a stab at me, but I pushed it down. I knew this was mutual. I knew I didn’t manipulate him into this position, rather I was the catalyst for his own self-discovery.

“Good day?” I asked.

“Great day. Amazing day.” He flung his arms wide and reached up to play with my tusks.

“Hell yeah.” I snuck a hand up his shirt and stroked his tummy. Cats really did something to my body. My cock twitched to life and I knew as soon as he felt it poking into him he’d get on his knees until I shot rope down his throat.

He purred as he rubbed his face into my chest. I scritched at his ears and waited for him to tell me about his day, but he didn’t. The longer I waited, the more my anxiety bubbled to the surface. He wrinkled his face and sighed. “Can I tell you something?”

My heart stopped beating, this was it then. “Mhm.”

“There’s um, I…” Samel trailed off. “You know Alex, the wolf I’ve been tutoring?”

Whatever I feared, this wasn’t it. This was exactly what I wanted. He’d told me about Alex, often while wearing one of his subdued smiles. He had mentioned Alex a lot more than his other friends… It all clicked into place. Elation bounded through me, a broad smile grew on my face. “You into him?”

Samel’s brows quirked. He took a deep breath and nodded sheepishly. His assent felt like a freighter of relief collided with my body.

“Oh fuck yeah.” I pumped a fist. Maybe this could end, if he found someone his own age. I wanted nothing more for him, I’d be sad to lose him but I knew for a long time I needed to eventually. Perhaps it would end the guilt. Samel was just another boy used and abused by an older man, the same way I’d cut my teeth. He’d be so much better off without me.

“I don’t know what to do though.”

“Spend time with him. Do you think he’s into you?”

He nodded. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Hm?” The tiger’s words were like barbed wire around my ankles.

“You. Us. I haven’t done this before with romance, can I share my heart? What if it’s too much? Even fucking around with Hunter was a lot for me to work out, and what if it hurts you?”

I laughed. “Kid. We promised each other that we wouldn’t let what’s between us hold us back from someone who was a better match. Hurt me, I can take it. Sort your own shit out, I’ll be fine.” Wrong words. I knew they were wrong words the moment they left my mouth. Samel squinted. Hurt me, I’d said. His ears were so sensitive to that. How many times had I told him to do that? How many times had I insinuated he should? How long had I daydreamed about him doing just that?

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

I sighed. I’d never been good at this sort of thing. “I just meant that you should try make this work. I’ll be fine, and if it does end up hurting, whatever. At least you’ll be happy.”

But Samel shook his head. “I won’t be happy if it pushes you away.”

I scowled, fuck me why were we both so stupid? “Fucking hell.” I groaned and chuckled at the same time. “Let me start over. I will be happier if you have a boyfriend your own age. I have no fear and no hesitation, I don’t think it will hurt me. But, if it somehow did, I made peace with that years ago when you promised me.”

Samel nodded. “Mmm. Right.” He stared me in the eyes. “Can you promise me you won’t leave?”

I blinked, surprised. I gulped. I stared. I chewed the inside of my cheek.

His bright eyes never left mine. He was too smart for me to play this game. One of his deepest fears was that I’d abandon him, he feared the pain and didn’t feel the guilt I carried. But he knew I carried it. I’d exposed too much of myself to him for me to hide it. I trusted him more than I had ever trusted anyone before.

He’d reprimanded me into seeing a psychiatrist who’d diagnosed my bipolar, a condition which I quickly realised had influenced much of my life. Explosive moods and impulsive behaviour had always seemed like vices to me, I’d thought they were personal failings that marred my character. But the fault was not with me, but rather with my physiology.

I still owned my mistakes and experiences, but it brought so much peace to know I wasn’t broken in some irredeemable way. Now armed with this knowledge, I could manage myself through these moods instead of blindly submitting to them. I knew when I wasn’t quite myself, but more importantly, Samel could recognise it too and act accordingly.

A year after the bipolar diagnosis, another doctor had finally nailed my obsessive compulsive, a major source of my awful thoughts and behaviours. It had taken so much longer to identify because it terrified me to let anyone that deep into my own head. I’d been so choked up in fear that I thought I was confessing the reasons I’d be imprisoned to my psych when I finally cracked.

Instead she made a sound, shoved a questionnaire in my face, did some reading and seemed relieved when she presented me with the diagnosis. It terrified me. But she read to me some facts and sent me home with an armful of reading. I kept Samel up late that night, just chatting it out. He helped me through the readings, initially as emotional support but later as a guide. He started pulling up psychology journals, the sort of shit that made my head spin. But he’d prowl through the dense paragraphs of science and relay to me factoids and examples that felt like the cornerstones of my soul.

I knew exactly what he was saying because I lived with the brain these studies were reporting on. A lifetime of guilt and shame fell from my shoulders that night. But knowledge alone couldn’t fix me. I was remarkably good at picking up those pieces of guilt and shame and cramming them right back into my skull. But now I could see the mechanisms through which my avoidant tendencies manifested. My therapist taught me skills to help deal with that, it was a work in progress.

Between therapy and medication I was more stable now and better equipped to handle myself than I’d ever been.

Samel had latched onto those truths about me, he didn’t judge me for them. He cherished me all the same and devoted himself to patience and understanding. He was a better partner than I deserved, and the 27 years difference between us was proof of that.

He was still staring at me. I couldn’t promise him I wouldn’t leave because it was the first thought that came to mind whenever our relationship was brought up.

I shrugged. “I just don’t want to intrude. Don’t want to get in your way.”

“It’s alright.” Samel sighed. “You don’t have to love him, if it even happens. I doubt you’ll get in the way. He knows about you, about us. He’s not stupid. And I’m pretty damn sure he feels something for me anyways. Can you meet him? He actually wants to meet you.”

I scrunched up my face. “Fine.”

Samel exhaled. “Good. Thank you. You don’t have to be so-”

I waved the thought off. “Don’t say that. I do and I don’t like it.”

We were silent for a time, then he curled up in my arms and kissed me with a passion I wanted to hide from. It took me a moment to reciprocate. He knew I wasn’t avoiding him out of a lack of love, he knew it all.

I put my thick arms around him and caged him to my chest. He purred as my tongue invaded his mouth, I flicked it across his fangs. He bit down on my lip. The pain widened my eyes and brought a growl from my throat.

My hand rose to the back of his head. I shoved my snout in his face and crushed him as I kissed him hard and heavy, I snorted as I felt him go breathless and he tried to inch away from me but I kept him stuck in place. I was so much stronger than him and both of us loved that.

The familiarity I had with his body was unmatched to any partner I’d had before. I knew his boundaries, I knew his limits, and I knew when he enjoyed me testing them. Passion burned raw in my belly, the domination I exerted over him was grounded so deeply in trust and understanding that neither of us ever questioned anything anymore. We simply did what we did and challenged each other to find more pleasure in each other’s bodies.

I wrenched him away from me as his ears fell. I lifted him by the scruff of his neck and he heaved in breaths, his hands scrambled to grab my shoulders to try ease the pressure my hold on him produced. I yanked his pants off in one fluid motion. His seven inch cock glistened with pre. I slapped it. He yowled, but his cock throbbed all the same.

I grinned as I threw him over my shoulder, my thick fingers prowled his ass crack as I carried him to the bedroom. I rubbed over his hole and stiffened. “You fucking slut.” He was already stretched. “Alex, huh?” I swatted his hole.

He groaned. “Mhm.”

I slammed him onto the mattress with enough force to drive the wind out of his lungs. He bounced and curled in a ball to guard his chest. The sight of it made my cock twitch. I wrapped his tail around my hand and yanked him towards me. He cried out, but didn’t resist.

I dove between his cheeks and snuffled at his ass. He was still damp with wolf cum. I snarled as I stuffed my tongue into him. The residue of Alex’s spunk was sweet and there wasn’t a great deal of it. “My tiger slut should taste like me, and only me.” I cracked a hand on his ass. He whimpered as he nodded.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to fuck around with others, I often encouraged it because there was pleasure in taking my revenge and claiming him for myself again. There was understanding there and I didn’t have to explain myself to him no matter what I said. This was the kind of boyfriend sex I was damn good at, mutually aligned passions–not checks and balances.

I smacked my lips and rubbed my face in his asscrack. I let my tusks prod his fluffy balls and he shifted uncomfortably. I nuzzled his taint. His cock jolted, pre oozed from his tip and painted a glistening sheen down his shaft.

I bit his asscheek and let my tusks press sharply against him until he gasped out in pain. The sound of it thrilled both of us. He grinned up at me as I shed my clothes. I crawled over his chest and swatted my thick cock against the pale fur of his throat. He gulped, his eyes grew that focused look as he readied himself for what was to come.

I clenched one of his ears tight in a fist and pulled him up to my cock, he winced but his muzzle hung open. I glided my tip across his tongue. I exhaled at the warm, coarse touch I’d grown so intimately familiar with. My boy was a cocksucker through and through. His jaws widened as he took me, I savoured a moment of slowness while the passion built within me for more. His nose twitched as he snuffled at the scent of my cock.

His whiskers pressed forward in interest and his eyes were bright with desire, his adorable face brightened at the promise of what I was about to do to him.

I speared my cock into his throat and growled as I felt his body constrict around me. With all ten inches of my cock lodged in him, I knew he couldn’t breathe right. Still, he purred. The vibrations he produced sent a cascade of warm pleasure flying through me. He held me there, his fists clenched with concentration and pain on his face, his body vibrating brilliant pleasure through me until he hit his limit.

His sharp fangs tensed against my cock. The needling pain was sharp and brief, but the necessity of it bespoke a depraved urge to push the boundaries of our physical limits. Nothing else made me feel the way that did. I left my cock wedged in his throat for a moment longer. I felt his jaws tense as he was about to bite harder. I ripped myself out of him with enough force to hurt just as much as it did to enter.

He yowled and hacked a cough, but he didn’t wait to draw breath. He panted as he rushed forward and swallowed me to the hilt of his own desire. I moaned loudly and let him gag himself on me.

“You’re fucking sick.” I slapped a meaty hand against his cheek repeatedly. “That’s my fucking tiger slut.” I thrust my hips and delighted in the rasping gags he produced. He purred and nuzzled into my dense pubes. His tongue poked out past his lips as he tried to lap my balls at the same time as he fucked his own face on my cock.

I exhaled and leant over his body. He visibly shivered in anticipation. My firm hands spread his asscheeks. His tail flicked excitedly until I wrangled it in a hand and started humping at his face. He stretched to open himself for me, his pink hole was wet with my spit. Pleasure blasted through me in thrumming waves as he gulped on my cock.

I crammed a finger into his hole. He paused to tense but eased into a purr that rattled so much warmth through my body I had to close my eyes. I moaned out loud. “That’s it you fucking slut.” I shoved another finger into his hole. He wiggled as it took it and missed another beat as he gagged on my cock.

I fingered him with violent intent. The residue of Alex’s cum and my own spit gave enough slip for me to be hideously direct. I pistoned two fingers into him and grinned wildly as he thrashed and quivered under the brunt of my attack. He was already loose enough to take me, I’d fucked him too many times for anything else to be true but I wanted to see just how hard and fast I could finger his hole. He yowled as I crammed myself down to the knuckle jerked out of him again without pause.

He let my cock go and he snuffled at my balls to hide how heavily he was panting. He marked himself in the scent of my body as well as his own spit as my cock slapped him repeatedly across the face. I fingered him even harder as he lapped at my sweaty nuts.

He wiggled about the bed, his tail swished wildly and his hips worked in erratic tugs as he tried to alleviate the ceaseless pressure of my fingers.

“Pathetic cunt.” I growled as I jammed a third finger into him. His eyes went wide, his back arched off of the bed but he gasped a voiceless shout. His jaws hung wide open as he panted for a moment in a state of utter overwhelm that made my cock throb and leak.

I could simply wait no longer. I folded his legs over his body and rubbed my fat cock over his asshole as I crammed my fingers into his mouth. He sucked the taste of Alex’s cum off of me eagerly.

“I bet you fuckin’ like that.” I forcefully pressed my fingers down on his tongue. “Would Alex love or hate to see you now?” I twisted my hand, his fangs brushed my flesh as he exhaled and groaned.

“Love,” he muttered between breaths.

My grin widened. “Yeah?” An electrifying thrill went through me. I ripped my fingers out of him and pinched hard on his nipple. “And would he like me to fuck him raw?” I tightened my grasp. Samel shouted and shuddered, but more pre leaked from his tip. He couldn’t voice a response, but his nod was obvious.

Perverse desire rose through me. I wanted to fuck his friend. I wanted him to watch me treat his friend just like this. Fuck. I sunk the fat head of my cock into his hole.

He had a particular expression he saved for the moment of penetration. His muzzle tilted forward as his head cocked back. His ears tweaked and his eyes went wide, his jaw dropped and he exhaled hard to try to relax and welcome my invasion of his body.

I growled, it was so fucking hot. I shoved myself into him with force and delighted as he whimpered and squirmed against me, he tried to shuffle down to welcome me into him faster and harder. That was my fucking tiger slut.

I made a circle with my thumb and forefinger around his balls and pulled them firmly down as I slammed into his ass. He yowled, the sound curled bright with pleasure. I thrust into him and growled as the rumbling passion within me sent tingles through my limbs. Love mingled with perverse lust as I found a rhythm to pound him at. My balls slapped hard against his taint. It was no fantasy to imagine bruising him from fucking him, it had happened before and it would almost certainly happen again.

I stared at his face, the fur of his muzzle was marked with spit and pre. As it fucking should be. I owned this freak, body, soul and heart too. I put my face in front of his and stared into his eyes. My tusks poked his cheeks as I growled. “My fucking tiger slut.”

He gasped and nodded, concentration furrowed his brow but his jaw hung loose in pleasure. I thrust even harder into him and growled louder as I kissed him. He purred back into me, the vibration broken by the regular thump of my body against his. My cock glowed with the warmth of his belly and there was such an unbelievable amount of feeling within me I could’ve finished if I let it happen.

Instead I slapped his face.

He grunted, shuddered and moaned hard inwards. The concentration of his face broke. He stared cross eyed up at me. Cum sprayed across his chest in two ribbons that gathered over his belly. I drenched my fingers in it and jabbed it into his mouth. He lapped at his own spunk and suckled on my fingers weakly, like it was all he could manage as he kept shuddering and shaking under the forceful press of my hips.

I buried my snout against his neck and nuzzled him with force. The resistance I felt against my tusks bespoke pain I knew he felt. I howled as I fucked him even harder, the bed groaning under the weight of my thrusts.

It was too much to restrain myself any longer. I throbbed, I moaned and the world darkened as pleasure boomed through my belly, my balls tingled as I collapsed onto him, no longer able to support my own weight.

His paws clasped around my back. My orgasm jetted through him in weighty spurts, momentum carried me forward in staggering, shattered thrusts that sparkled more pleasure through me. One of my hands found his neck and failed to squeeze it, like some wanton thought that was discarded under the weight of the lust that burned in my veins.

The world rocked as I painted his guts. Before I could even see straight, I bundled him into my arms with gentleness and warmth. We collapsed against the pillows together and I kissed him with the tenderness I saved for aftercare.

He purred in my arms and slowly stopped shaking. He gasped and nuzzled my face.

“I love you,” he whispered against my cheek.

“Me too.” I snuffled at his face and kissed his forehead. There was so much satisfaction to be found in how the scent of my body coated his fur.

He wouldn’t shower tonight and whichever of us woke up first in the morning was entitled to whatever pleasure we wanted to take. Neither of us ever said no to each other’s advances but if it wasn’t something we enjoyed, we simply saved those feelings to take vengeful pleasure at another time.

This relationship was unlike anything I’d ever had before but it was right in ways no other relationship had ever been for me.

“What you said about Alex…” Samel started awkwardly.

“Yeah?”

“I think he would like that, actually.” He chuckled. “And me too.”

I rubbed his ears. “Yeah?” I chewed my lip. “It’d be fun.” A speckle of anxiety crept into my thoughts. I wanted him to find a guy his own age, but what would that mean for us and our relationship? I didn’t want things to change, but I knew they had to somehow.

I just couldn’t lose this without accepting I could never have this again with anyone else. But in my heart there was guilt, I shouldn’t have this. Not with a guy this young. I buried my face into his forehead and tried to deny the thoughts that pecked at me.