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Nobody took Nathan seriously.

The monkey never fit in growing up. He tended to act out to get attention, a tactic that built up a reputation of being a class clown in highschool. This worked for a time, but in college he tried to build a different persona. That’s what college was for after all. Meet new people, dive into new communities. His freshman year was spent looking into every gay bar and club to really embrace a part of him he didn’t so much as repress but didn’t indulge in his hometown. And as fun as it was, he quickly noticed there was a vibe he liked that he wanted to slip into; the hardcore fetishists.

He’ll never forget seeing them for the first time. He’d entered a beginner's night in the local dungeon to learn the rules of play and was blindsided by the sight of a big buff bear being led around via a leash in the hands of a stallion. He’d not remembered a single thing said that night as all his focus sat on the couple. There were others like them, decked in leather, sometimes covered in tattoos or piercings, all with clear dynamics of who walks and who crawls. A mix of punk and old leather daddy aesthetic to make something new. New to Nathan at least.

And each and every one of them brushed Nathan off like he was some door-to-door bible salesman. It wasn’t the monkey’s fault that his delivery uniform made him look like he went to church on every Sunday, and he had to keep his headfur clean for when his family visited. Yet they thought he was too soft, too easily bruised for their kind of play.

A healthy person would have just moved on. Nathan tried. He went to clubs, he mingled, he slept around like any good manwhore enjoying his youth, and he kept it all under his part-time paycheck budget so none was the wiser. Admittedly this involved a lot of borrowing from people he slept with. Regardless, he enjoyed life but never could shake the feeling he was missing something. A piece of the puzzle that looked suspiciously like a leatherman. He needed to be taken seriously by them. He needed to look the part.

Deciding he needed a kickass tattoo, he went looking for tattoo artists. Online reviews were helpful, but whenever he brought them up to people in the community they all recommended someone named Boogie. Each time they did they showed off his work, from tattoo sleeves that told stories, coverups, blackwork that looked alive, and more.

A few people he knew, doms and subs both with paw print tattoos, mentioned a way to get a discount. Nathan kept that idea in his back pocket along with three weeks of saved paychecks as he walked up the Boogie’s parlor, a basement studio accessible only by outside staircase, with a pink neon sign that read, ‘Under the Bed’.

Nathan grinned. “Fitting,” he said as he stepped inside, ignoring the chime of the bell overhead.

The tattoo parlor carried a hint of cigarette smoke, ink, and leather. The walls were adorned with art of various designs and styles, starting from symbol paw prints or card suits and ending with pictures so detailed they might as well be covers for fantasy novels. Nathan marveled at the idea of such inkwork digging into his skin. They’d take him seriously if he walked outside with his back tatted like a yakuza gang member. All he had to do was never go to Japan.

Though mesmerized by the sight, Nathan felt something off about it. A burning in the back of his neck, as though he were out in the jungles of his ancestors and about to be pounced upon by one of their many predators. When he turned to see he spotted the yellow eyes in question. They belonged to a black panther in a mesh muscle shirt sitting behind the glass counter beside the door. He said nothing with words, but his expression alone told Nathan that he better leave if he intended on wasting time.

“Hi,” Nathan said with a cavalier smile that did nothing to impress the panther. “I’m here to get a tattoo.”

“It’s either that or a piercing,” the panther said, flipping a page of the magazine he’d been absently reading. “Do you have an appointment?”

Nathan wasn’t aware appointments were needed. “No. This is my first tat, so I wasn’t aware of the process. But you’re an artist so you get that, right?” The panther rolled his eyes upon deciding he was done with the conversation and continued reading. Nathan, not wanting to seem more awkward, asked, “Um, is Boogie in?”

“Who wants to know?”

“Someone who is very interested in getting him to do my ink, so to speak.” Nathan leaned against the countertop, “I heard he’s the best. And who better to trust with your first tat than the best? It’s gonna be on me forever, right?”

The panther leaned away to create space. He pulled out a cigarette from his vest pocket, lit it, and took a few puffs. “What kind of tat are you looking for?”

Nathan grinned. “So, you’re Boogie?”

“What kind of tat are you looking for?”

“That’s an odd name, ain’t it? What’s it short for? Boogieman? Little childish.”

The panther blew a cloud of smoke his way. Nathan gagged and coughed trying to wave the smoke out of his face. “Last chance. Tell me what tattoo you want or you’re getting your ass kicked to the curb.” There was a subtle hint to his tone that told the monkey he’d do it happily, all without cracking that cold exterior he called a face.

Anyone not desperate for approval would have taken their dignity and left. Nathan smiled and held out his arm. “I want a full tat over my arm. A, um, what do you call them?”

“A sleeve,” Boogie said.

“Yeah, a sleeve.”

“What design?”

Nathan’s mouth hung open with a half-conjured thought. “Whatever’s cool.”

For a solid minute the panther stared at him, the fag held to his face and growing smaller in tiny increments while a ring of heat illuminated against his dark fur. “This a prank?” Boogie finally asked.

“What? No.”

“Then why the fuck are you in my store without any idea of what you want?” Boogie jammed the cigarette into a nearby ashtray that had been bereft of any ashes. “Do you need me to hold your hand and pick one out for you?”

“I mean, if you have a catalogue I’d love to see it.”

Boogie pulled out a catalogue with all the enthusiasm of a retail employee who prayed their customer would leave. Nathan’s ass clenched as the laminated pamphlet slapped the glass counter. Not once did Boogie’s eyes drift from the monkey. Their expression was cold, observing, and just a hint of interest. Like a flickering candle easily snuffed out.

Despite the sense of urgency Nathan got from that look, he took his time looking through the catalogue. His tail curled in on itself whenever his interest rose only to unfurl when he gave the design a little more thought. Sure, wizards were cool, but he wasn’t some van from the 1970’s. He wanted something that would be liked, something that meant, well, something.

Then he saw a flower. A rose with thorny vines meant to crawl around the entire arm. The rose was a special flower in that the color alone meant different things. The classic red rose of love and passion, the blue rose of mystery, the black rose of certainty, or the orange rose of energy. He tapped his finger on the art, “This is the one.”

“Five thousand.”

Nathan nodded, opened his mouth to speak, and said nothing as the numbers finally hit him. “Five thousand?” He asked. The panther, annoyed he was being asked, tapped the price just under the picture. Nathan looked over it, and the other prices, and realized he’d underestimated his savings.

“That’s…that’s a lot of money.”

“You’re paying for art. Did you expect it’d be cheap?” Boogie did nothing to hide his condescending tone. “If you can’t pay, get out of my store.”

“Do you take installments?”

“Installments for these are a minimum of one thousand.”

One thousand. Pizza delivery, even with decent tips, did not give him much in the way of spare savings. He’d squared out only three hundred for this, figuring it couldn’t have been that expensive. “I think that might be out of my price range.”

“Then get the fuck out.”

No. No he needed this. “W-Wait,” Nathan grabbed the hand pulling the pamphlet away. He let go immediately as though it were freezing. Or maybe that was how Boogie’s growl felt. “Sorry. It’s just, well, I’ve heard you offer discounts to special customers who are willing to do anything.”

Boogie didn’t seem bothered by the accusation. “Rumors may have circulated. But there’s a difference between a discount and free.”

“The difference is just a number.” Nathan puffed his chest out and twisted just enough to show his ass without being too obvious. “And I’d be happy to do whatever it is you wanted to get that number. Not one to brag, but I do have four thumbs.”

From the way Boogie leaned back into his chair Nathan got the impression he was being judged. Not judged as a person on stage. More like a piece of meat being offered by a nonexistent butcher. Then Boogie stood up and Nathan realized how vastly different they were in stature.

Nathan was what most people would call a twink. He leaned toward the more masculine side of androgyny while having a pretty enough face that even straight guys might mistake him for a cute girl across the bar. He went to the gym for bodyweights, aerobics, and ain’t to keep himself thin, flexible, and fit.

Boogie looked like he could bench two of him and ask for more weight. He towered over Nathan with pectorals that rivaled that of a boxer’s build. Little stud piercings hung from his nipples behind the vest that flapped as he looped around the counter, giving Nathan a view of the panther’s tight leather pants that seemed to draw attention to what the panther had to offer. The monkey had seen big at the club before, but that was something different. Something menacing that called to him.

As if called to attention Nathan stood stiff. Boogie circled around him, his shadow looming over the monkey’s form. Heavy hands clasped his waist. Muscular digits groped his body. Boogie leaned in for a whiff of the monkey’s headfur and Nathan got a stronger sense of his smell. The leather, the smoke, the cold feel of his strong hands exploring his body. He shivered in fear but found it more frightful to the idea of him letting go. The hand slipped over his ass and squeezed, each finger digging deep to form a print that made Nathan’s voice crack.

“You’re got a fat ass for a twink,” Boogie said clearly.

Nathan smiled in spite of himself. “Guys like to watch it jiggle.”

“Do they now?” Nathan couldn’t tell if Boogie sounded pleased or he imprinted that on his tone. “My discounts depend on how much I enjoy my customers.” He slapped Nathan’s ass before backing away and round to his seat. From there he kicked his boots up, exposing the monkey to a pair of leather soles that he wondered the taste of. “If you think you can entertain me, go past the hanging beads. If you can’t, get out. This is the last choice you’ll make.”

“Besides my tat?” Nathan answered with a cheeky grin.

The panther stared down at him. “Last chance.”

Nathan ran the pros and cons. At least, he told himself that much as he walked through the beaded door in the back of the shop. The choice had been made the moment Boogie touched him.

The backroom had another tattooing chair, only with more restraints. The walls were littered with more erotic art depicting men, women, or whatever in between in various positions of service and wearing little to nothing. Boogie stepped in behind him, blocking the door like a cave-in that shut out all outside light before taking a seat on the leather couch. There he leaned back with his legs spread, giving a clear view of what his pants contained.

“Strip,” Boogie said, no, commanded. He nudged Nathan to the center of the room with a wave of his head. “Make it worth my time.”

Nathan swayed his hips to the center of the room. Boogie pulled out a remote to play some low volume punk rock as Nathan pulled his shirt away by its collar. Puffing out his tight chest, the money gyrated to the open air as he reached for his pants. “No,” Boogie said when Nathan’s thumb slipped past both his pants and underwear, “Keep the thong on.”

“Oh, you into undies?”

“I’m into people that obey my commands.” Boogie smiled softly when he saw Nathan’s yellow banana-hammock thong, “Well, isn’t that fitting. Why don’t you turn around and give those melons a bounce?”

The monkey did so, slipping his thong straps back to expose as much of those cheeks as possible. Boogie didn’t seem to have an issue with that, nor said anything to stop Nathan approaching closer with every twerk of his ass, right up until the monkey was grinding his bottom-heavy backside against the growing erection hidden behind that leather shield.

“You know,” Nathan said, reaching for the panther’s hand, “Most guys have their dicks out by now. Or their hands on my dick.”

Boogie caught his wrist. “Most men don’t know what they want,” he whispered. Hot and heavy breath wrapping around the monkey’s neck like a collar. “They’re like feral hounds chasing their own tail, unsure of what to do when they have it. Following an instinct without understanding.” He let go to clasp Nathan’s neck through his armpit while his other hand clamped down on the tight sack behind the yellow fabric. Nathan gasped, his mouth hanging open as Boogie squeezed.

“Do not mistake me for some drunk college faggot looking for tail. Do not expect anything from me. I want what I want.” He squeezed just enough to make the monkey struggle in the panther’s iron grip. “And I know you’re going to take it, because we both know you’ll do anything for that tattoo. Anything is a steep price. I am to collect.”

He bit him. Not enough to break the skin, but to hold Nathan in place. Strong fingers fondled the monkey’s quivering chest. His nipples were a prime target. Every pinch, twist, and pull were met with a weak breathless cry made worse by the pressure on his sack.

No one had been rough like this. Past lovers were forceful, maybe even selfish, but Boogie’s actions were calculated. Every time Nathan squirmed it was as if a new puzzle piece had been slotted into place. He wanted the monkey to struggle, to react. Nathan cracked a smile.

“What’s so funny?” the panther asked.

“You’re…” he caught his breath, “You’re much nicer than you look.”

A chill ran down his spine. “The fuck did you say?” Boogie’s voice was flat, as if holding something back via a foot on the basement door.

“Most guys don’t care how I’m feeling. It’s a one and done pump,” Nathan grinded his ass against that pitched cock still stuck behind leather pants. “I try to get something out of it, but more often than not I’m just being pounded away. But you, you want me to feel something. Pain, fear, or maybe just your strength? Either way, you’re thinking about me. And I think that’s nice.”

A low sawing noise escaped the panther’s maw. A hand slowly crawled up the monkey’s lithe body, stopping at the chin where two fingers forced themselves inside and caught Nathan’s tongue between them. “Perceptive little fag. Maybe I should wire that mouth shut so you can keep your thoughts to yourself?”

Nathan said something but Boogie’s hold made it unintelligible until he let go. “Your loss. I’ve been told my mouth’s better than most girl’s cunts.”

“I’m sure people tell you that to shut you up.” Boogie pushed him off. “Still, you talk a big game. Put your money where your mouth is.”

Nathan caught himself on all fours. He didn’t get up, taking the time to turn slowly in a low subservient gesture to the panther. Boogie leaned back into the couch, his head tilted and resting on an open hand. His bored expression was a front for his true feelings if the pitched tent between his open legs was any hint.

He swayed his hips whilst crawling forward. Nathan climbed up Boogie’s legs like a tree, nestling his face into the panther’s crotch like it were a bountiful basket of fruit. To Boogie’s subtle surprise Nathan did not use his hands to unzip the panther’s shaft, opting instead to find the metal tap of his zipper with his teeth, clamp down, and pull.

The smell of his masculine musk mixed with leather. Nathan fished the panther’s cock out from his boxers. No stranger to size, Nathan took a moment to process just how big the shaft was as its shadow loomed over him. He’d only seen bigger on stallions. His tail curled with delight.

But the shaft was the main course. He needed to sample the appetizers first. With care he brought Boogie’s balls into the open air. They were thick and heavy, carrying the scent of a man who knew what he wanted and cared little for how he got it. He tasted the salt of sweat and the metal of a piercing as he slipped his tongue between them to the snatch of the panther, eyes up to see light glisten off the Prince Albert piercing at the tip.

The shaft throbbed in his hands as suckled the sack. He took one testicle in his mouth at a time, rolling it around like the biggest jaw breaker he’d ever had before spitting it out for the other. His nose became wet with his saliva as he dragged it along his work, lost in the smell of the leather clad panther.

For the moment he’d forgotten why he was doing this. Why he put so much effort in lathering that pink cock with his tongue and massaging his sack when his attention changed. All that mattered was the tingle traveling down his spine when Boogie looked at him as Nathan kissed that pierced cockhead. The metallic metal mixed with the salty-precum and his own saliva. It was heaven in the darkest of places. Paradise by neon light. His backdoor quivered with impatience. His cock made a wet stain from precum seeping through his banana hammock.

That sawing purr was music to the monkey’s ears as he sank his head down the shaft. Boogie’s hand held his scalp just enough to remind him not to pull back. He clenched when Nathan tried, burying sharp nails just deep enough to let the monkey know he was going to swallow his meal whether he wanted to or not. Thankfully, Nathan wanted to. It was all that was on his mind and he had the lacking gag reflex to do it.

“A much better use for your mouth,” Boogie said, his lack of a smile failing to hide the joy in his voice. “Maybe I won’t wire it shut. I’m sure I can find something much more unique to deal with you.”

Nathan reached the base with careful coaxing. There Boogie held him, eyes locked on one another. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. Nathan’s gaze wavered. He started to gag. Forty seconds. Fifty. A minute. He patted the panther’s thigh but Boogie didn’t let go.

Boogie released just as Nathan’s eyes rolled back. He caught the monkey by his scalp, ignoring his wet cough until it suited him to slap the bitch boy with his cock. “Pathetic,” he hissed, using his cock like a bludgeon, “You act like you’ve got experience but you’re all talk, aren’t you?”

“If I was,” Nathan stammered when Boogie’s cock rested on his face, “You think I’d have come in here? A weak bitch would have called it quits by now.”

“And what makes you think you’re not a weak bitch? You can’t even take my dick.”

“Because if I was,” Nathan said between breaths, “Your cock would have shriveled up from boredom, wouldn’t it?”

Boogie clenched his teeth. Nathan stuck his tongue out. The panther spat on it then pulled the monkey up to the bed, one hand forcing his head to the cushions while the other spread Nathan’s legs.

“Smart mouths get tanned hides.” Boogie growled. “But dumb asses get plowed.”

The metal of Boogie’s piercing sent shivers up Nathan’s spine. His teeth dug into the sofa when the panther pushed inside. He’d taken bigger, but something about the hot cock was different. It filled him perfectly. The metal piercing put pressure in all the right places. The monkey’s arms were pulled behind his back and pinned with one strong hand whilst Boogie’s other held his hips for balance.

This wasn’t the drunk thrusts of a frat bro or some conflicted man experimenting with boy pussy. Boogie knew what he wanted, knew how to get it, and, unbeknownst to either of them, knew what Nathan needed. The thrusts were slow and probing, at first. More to see how much resistance he’d have to bury inside. He picked up speed when satisfied, kicking his leg up on the couch for support as the thick rod filled the air with wet slaps of hips against hips.

The tight confines of his jockstrap were wet with precum. His compact bulge bounced with every thrust and piston into him. Nathan’s legs became jelly and his jaw loosened its grip. Willpower, and a reminding spank from Boogie, were all that kept him standing as the panther pushed him deeper into the cushions. His raw strength was overshadowed only by his desire to make the monkey squirm.

“H-Harder.” Nathan squirmed under his grip. “Harder!”

“I don’t take orders, faggot,” Boogie growled, “Shut up and take your discount.”

Discount. Is that what this was for? Nathan had forgotten. Or he simply didn’t care anymore. “M-More! Harder!”

“I don’t do shit for free.”

“Then do what you want. Make me your canvas. Just don’t you dare let up.”

“Let up?” That seemed to piss him off judging by the full dick slam down Nathan’s hole. “Let up?! You fucking little shit, you think I’ll ease up?” Boogie hoisted Nathan up by his headfur and shoved his face to the wall, one hand holding him there whilst the other squeezed his nuts. “You’re the most annoying little discount bitch to ever walk through my door. If it weren’t for this hole of yours I’d have kicked you to the fucking curb. Your ass is mine as I please, and I’m not gonna slow down.”

“Then do it.”

“Do what?” Despite his anger Boogie wore a smile.

“Make me your canvas. Show me just how much you despise me.”

His bare chest laid against Nathan’s back, close enough for his breathing to circle the monkey’s neck. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing at, but you’ve caught my attention.”

That did it. Nathan felt it surge out of his cock. Milky white glops seeped through the tip of his tended thong, dripping on the leather couch and the floor below. The surge of endorphins ran through his body, leaving him limp and weak.

But Boogie wasn’t done. Nathan’s body floundered as the panther continued to jackhammer his cock down that loosened asshole. Nathan’s bouncing cock flailed his seed all around underneath him, eventually untucking itself from its fabric prison to spurt another strand freely over the panther's furniture.

Then a second orgasm hit. Nathan had heard it was possible but only from rumors by kinksters who were too into their thing. It was a mental thing, or so they told him. This feeling wasn’t mental. It was another eruption deep within him that exploded out. His mouth hung open in silent ecstasy as it happened, and Boogie’s seed finally flowed into him. It filled his insides like an enema.

He fell into a puddle of his seed when Boogie pulled out of him. The panther said something but, in his haze,, Nathan didn’t hear it. He felt the panther’s strong hand, tasted something salty and cold, as if off the floor, then was left alone for what might have been hours or seconds. The monkey became loosely aware of his surroundings when Boogie picked him up, and laid his stomach flat against a cold table. From there his limbs were stretched to four corners, each binding them heavily save for one arm which had the simple cuff holding his wrist in place.

Scissors snipped his thong away. Boogie ushered Nathan to open his maw, stuffing the cum soaked underwear behind his teeth and locking it there with a ballgag. “Breathe through your nose,” Boogie ordered, covering the monkey’s face with his own boxers for good measure. Every breath Nathan took reminded him of Boogie and what the panther had made him do. A hell of delight.

A cold spray misted its way along his loosely bound arm and corresponding buttcheek. Nathan tried to peer down only for the boxers to impede his vision. He caught glimpses of Boogie hunching over him, tattooing stencil in hand. Then the needle came, and Nathan stiffened.

Boogie ignored Nathan as he worked. He only admonished the monkey for being unable to remain still and swiftly punished him for it, but Nathan was too lost in the afterglow of their shared moment to struggle much. What lucid moments he had were spent wondering why the panther started on his ass and not his arm. That was where he originally wanted the flower vines, coiling from his wrist to his shoulders. A cool tattoo. Stranger still that Boogie seemed to skip the back and start on the arm, leaving no connecting lines between them.

“Get up,” Boogie said when finished, unlocking all restraints and the gag to let Nathan breathe freely. The monkey rolled over, catching himself from falling at the last second. A wall mirror tall as a person hung in the corner, waiting for Nathan’s reflection to make an appearance.

There was a tattoo there. An unfinished one. Lines curled around from his wrist to his forearm to his shoulder and then to his back, but they were more like sketched lines. Directions to follow. From what he gathered there were two separate patterns being developed. One mirrored the rose design he’d picked up at first if he judged its thorny nature along his arm, but the other seemed broken up into links. Like a chain not yet locked together.

Then there was the third tattoo. He noticed it on his ass when checking his back. Unlike the others it looked finished. It was a pawprint, a black pawprint with neon pink outlining that made it almost look like graffiti on his asscheek. His puffy and bruised skin from the process made it look stretched, but he figured it’d look normal once everything healed. At a glance he thought it was a dog’s print, but the tipped claws told him it was feline in nature.

“That’s my mark,” Boogie said, standing over Nathan like a hunter cornering his prey. His hand clasped the monkey’s neck like it were a collar wrapping tight around it. “Everyone that wants a discount gets that mark. Some call it advertisement, others call it humiliation. Me? I see it as a mix of both. I like marking what’s mine. But you, well, you’ve caught my interest.”

Nathan tried to speak but the sudden pinch of his nipples turned his comments to croaks. “See, you asked to become my canvas. Now, normally I’d ignore that request and just follow through with my side of the bargain. I get laid, you get your discount. But something about you pisses me off. Love and hate are just two sides of the coin we call passion, and my art needs passion.” He wrenched Nathan’s arm forward, drawing a clawed thumb over the line. “I keep things that make me passionate. Things that motivate me to create. So, you’ll get your little rose sleeve free of charge, but I’m adding chains to it.” He pinched Nathan’s nose, twisted his nipples, and slapped his cock in quick succession, “And that’s not all. I’ve got other ideas to try on you. A few more tats, a few piercings. Faggot like you would look perfect with some thick rings in the right places. A nose ring might help train that throat of yours better.”

“And…and what if I say no?” Nathan asked, making no effort to break away from Boogie. His cock stood proud in the reflection.

“Then you leave and don’t come back. I’m sure you can find some talentless hack to finish my work. Well, unless they see my mark. Anyone worth their salt knows they can’t compete with me. It’s like putting a stick-figure next to the Mona Lisa, it’ll stand out too much and hurt their credit in the process. So, go ahead, leave unfinished. I don’t expect you back until a week later anyway.”

“Why a week?”

“Shit needs to heal and I got other customers.” Boogie pushed Nathan aside, “Now fuck off. I got other shit to do. And if you skip without warning, don’t come back. I have no use for a canvas who can’t do what they’re told.”

Nathan left knowing that anyone would rightfully never come back. The indignity of being someone’s little bitch for free tattoos and piercings, choices they couldn’t even make, was too much for any normal person. He was certain that he could sue Boogie if he wanted to.

But the monkey came back on the agreed upon time. He had to finish his tattoo after all. Boogie smiled when he showed up, laying out three rings on the glass desk.

“I’ll let you pick which one first.”

There’s a club with no-name deep in the city. In the shadows of places councilmembers call slums, where gentrification fails to push past concrete cracks. A part of the city that flickers by waning street lights and prostitutes know every local politician, cop, or CEO by touch alone. A place that Nathan, a college boy from an upper-middle class family, feared to tread even if eager to follow. Were it not for the mass of darkness that was Boogie in black leathers, he might not have wandered this far.

It’d been over a month since he’d become the panther’s canvas. He ventured into the tattoo artist’s den once a week unless called for, leaving each time with a new piercing, a new tattoo, or more detail on an older one. His so-called friends on campus had begun to take notice but steered clear of him most of the time. The nose-ring in particular seemed to scare off any decent fratboy, while attracting more behind closed doors and dark corners. He was eager for the attention, but those in the know saw his ownership tat and knew better than to deal with it. When Boogie learned of those who didn’t know about his mark, he made Nathan vow that no one else was to use him unless Boogie said otherwise. No one was to muck up his canvas. Nathan didn’t agree but obeyed, and as such every step he took down the shadowed sidewalk kicked his horny heart into overdrive.

“This place is a shithole, sir,” Nathan said, adding the honorific only when Boogie eyed him. Nathan twirled a finger through one of his earrings at the sight of Boogie’s eyes, fidgeting with the tiny key hanging from it. That glare could freeze him in place, just as his breath could leave him intoxicated and his spit made him melt like some sort of pleasure inducing acid.

“Has to be,” Boogie said, continuing to walk, “Keeps the rent cheap.”

Nathan kept his pace at three feet behind as commanded. This wasn’t their first time out together, as Boogie liked to take Nathan on little excursions when the mood suited him. Usually downtown or somewhere public, where Boogie allowed Nathan to act as arm candy. Boogie went through enough lovers to not care if people saw him with a new one every week, even if Nathan lasted longer. But in the cracked sidewalks of the bad side of town, their dynamic would only have been clearer if Boogie brought a leash. Nathan almost wished he did, but he dared not to challenge his owner’s choices. Not unless the punishment would be fun.

“Where did you get this jacket anyway?” Nathan asked, fiddling with the light brown trenchcoat he’d been given, “It looks like something out of a noir film.”

The panther growled. “It’s a Burberry, and it’s mine. Don’t fuck with it.” It explained why it was two sizes too big for Nathan, perfect for covering up his entire body. Not so much for the wind brushing through what little of his legs were exposed to it. The black leather fetish boots he’d been given cut off at his shins, leaving an entire section of his leg exposed to the elements. By contrast, Boogie was decked in the modern equivalent of leather armor. From his jacket, to his chaps, with the uncovered portion hidden by the tassels. Nathan knew what lay underneath that outfit and was eager to see it when they reached the club, but Boogie seemed to take his time getting them there. Almost as if he was taking his pet for a walk to not get him too excited. It wouldn’t work, but the brown monkey appreciated the effort.

Nathan didn’t think their surroundings could get seedier. Then he saw the entrance to the no-named club. It was a stairwell down to an unmarked door hidden from the street and painted black to look almost seamless in the shadows. He thought it was concrete until he heard the sound of metal from Boogie’s rhythmic tap. A slide slid open, glowing with red light. “Password?”

“Velvet.”

The slide closed. Red light pooled into the stairwell as the door opened. Boogie walked inside. Nathan followed him, feeling for a moment that he was following his master into hell. He stiffened at the thought of calling Boogie that. The panther preferred honorifics as Sir, and maybe Owner when speaking of him, but not master. He tried ‘Daddy’ and it earned him a purple ass.

He blinked to adjust to the light. It was as though he’d put on red lenses for how the color permeated the room. It was a small room. The voice at the door belonged to a rottweiler in a black shirt that hugged his muscular chest tight and wore a thong that left a considerable bulge present. Across from him behind a wooden desk with chipped black paint sat a short mouse woman with a black bobcut shaved down so only her bangs remained as tassels. The office chair she sat on looked to be jacked to its tallest setting. Her bottle glasses caught the light just right to hide her eyes, but her barbell pierced brow raised with interest when she noticed Nathan.

“You brought someone?” She asked, grinning despite her confusion.

“Club rules allow a plus one without notice,” Boogie said, flashing a business card for the mouse.

“That’s not what surprises me,” She said, flipping open a notebook to write something down, “There’s going to be some disappointment out there when they see this.”

“You speak as if I care, Nuck.”

Nuck, the mouse, smiled. It was a smile that made her seem bigger than Boogie, who by contrast was a black shadow that absorbed light. “You act like you don’t give personal marks, Boogie. Or should I use your real name? The one I write down whenever you come in?”

Boogie chuckled. Nathan’s eyes widened as he looked to his owner. Boogie had never laughed like that in his presence. The friendly chuckle of game recognizing game. “Full house tonight?”

“All regulars,” Nuck said with a nod, “Plenty of hopefuls, but maybe they’ll find someone else when they see the monkey boi.”

“Why’d she say it like that?” Nathan asked. There was a subtle difference in how people pronounced boy vs boi around him. One was just boy, but boi had a strange sexual charge to it for him, as if it was calling him lesser in an erotic manner. He didn’t hate it, but he wondered why people said it about him unprompted. Boogie didn’t, but Boogie didn’t call him either boy or boi. He preferred terms like ‘you’ or something derogatory if he called him anything at all. Most often he didn’t, preferring Nathan understand that if Boogie spoke up then he was to listen.

Nuck eyed him with restrained sadistic glee, “Cause you’re a bitch boi, boi. I can tell what you’re packing under that jacket. Or rather, what you’re missing.”

Having never received a dressing down by someone shorter than him, Nathan wasn’t sure if he should run, snap back, or play into it. His face went red with embarrassment, earning a snicker from the mouse. “God, he is cute. Since when do you deal with cute?”

“You’ll ignore the cute when you see what’s underneath, Nuck.” Boogie leaned over the table, towering above the mouse like a black void, “Is there anything else?”

She shook her head, “Not at all. You know where the dressing room is. Teach your bitch the etiquette and we’ll have no problems.”

The hellish vibes continued down the red-light hallway. Nathan caught a final glance of Nuck before the door shut behind them, seeing her grin with satisfaction. “Is she an ex of yours, sir?” Nathan asked.

“Client.”

“Special client?” Nathan rubbed the buttcheek where his paw print tattoo laid. The symbol of those who got special discounts from Boogie.

The panther eyed him coldly. “No. If I marked Nuck, she’d mark me. We’ve occasionally shared a bed, most often with someone sandwiched between us.”

“Must be a lopsided sandwich.”

Boogie grinned, “You’re a masochist, so don’t say that within earshot. She likes you enough.”

The changing room was covered by the kind of thick black curtain one would find in a theatre. The kind where actors performed on stage. Glancing down the hall Nathan noticed another such curtain, one thick enough that the blaring music from the other side had been muffled. Boogie yanked him inside the dressing room when he took too long. Nathan caught himself on a bench, twisting to find a wall of lockers on one side and a rack of hangers on the other, the latter filled with coats, backpacks, and other accessories people didn’t wish to bring inside.

“Strip.” Boogie’s order was cold, commanding, and filled the room without raising his voice. Nathan followed it with flare, clutching his knees close like some flapper girl whilst unbuttoning the trenchcoat he’d been provided. Underneath it revealed he’d walked three city blocks naked, save for one delightful new piece of clothing he couldn’t remove; a chastity cage locked in place by a prince Albert piercing. Its key hung from one of his earrings, but he’d not dared unlock it without Boogie’s permission. For one week he’d worn it, with the only exception being when Boogie took it off for cleaning before they left for the club. Nathan had been tied down during this, and his erection was answered with an icebag to soften him up.

This was but the latest addition to Boogie’s living canvas. The sleeve of his right arm was finished with a chain and thorny vine mixed together that crawled over the arm and over his back. Sharp black tattoos had been added around his thighs, neck, and lower back, acting more as arrows to various intimate parts of his body than the usual ‘badass’ indication they were meant to represent. His nipples had been pierced with thick rings matching his nose ring, and ink around his nipples had been drawn in the shape of wide open panther jaws. Most importantly was his paw print tattoo, which had gained an outline that was blue on one side and purple on the other, signifying that Nathan wasn’t just a discount customer, he was a personal touch.

Boogie pointed Nathan to the floor where the monkey waited on his knees for the panther to undress. There had been no formal training beyond intense sex in tattoo sessions, but Boogie gave off the impression he wanted his canvas to bow his head whilst waiting. Nathan did so, if only to make the moments he was caught catching a glance as the panther stripped down. He pulled his jacket off to reveal a leather harness underneath, one exposing the studded nipples that Nathan wanted to kiss. Without his jacket the crotchless chaps were exposed, revealing a thin jockstrap already bulging with his hefty package and a muscular ass that Nathan wanted to dig into. The memory of the metallic taste of the taint piercing made the monkey lick his lips.

Boogie urged the monkey to stand by his nose ring. He preferred directing Nathan by his piercings, always careful not to rip them but firm enough to tell his bitch not to resist. Not that he would, unless there was fun to be had in a little rebellion. For all Boogie’s talk of obedience, it was clear he favored the stick over the carrot. And a good bitch gave their owner a reason to be happy.

“People will ask you questions. You will answer them in accordance with your position. Is that clear?”

Nathan nodded as much as the finger through his nose ring allowed. “Yes, sir.”

“And what is your position?”

“Your canvas, sir.”

The panther’s smile was like a shadow with exposed teeth. His palm caressed Nathan’s face, spooling over it until the thumb pressed between his lips. He opened it without question, letting the bigger cat put pressure on the stud piercing in his tongue like it were a button. With his mouth hung open, Nathan was pulled close. Boogie spat down the open maw, keeping the tongue out in place to prevent Nathan from swallowing it. Not that he would without command. It was hardly the worst liquid Boogie used his mouth to hold. It sent delicious goosebumps down his skin either way.

“Showtime,” Boogie said after issuing the command. Leading Nathan by chains through his nipple rings, the two set down the hall through the final thick curtain. His senses were flooded with blaring pop music, a sea of lights and moving bodies either grinding against themselves or careening off to somewhere else, and the smell of sweat, sex, leather, and latex.

Nathan was no stranger to the club scene but the place with no-name put his hang-outs to shame. There were three floors at work. The center, which they stepped into had both a glass ceiling and floor, the upper levels of which were filled with more dancers, whilst the lower levels seemed to be filled with rubber matted flooring and various furniture of torment like bondage horses or X-crosses. There were cages on the walls for anyone to step into and dance, with several occupants grinding away if not actively fucking one another for anyone to see. In the center of the dance floor hung a large ring for aerobic dances when lowered, but when raised reminded Nathan of a metallic moon. His tail curled at the thought of performing before everyone from that ring.

Though they didn’t stand out in the crowd of kinksters, eyes fell on Boogie and Nathan as they slipped through. Nathan couldn’t tell which of them got the most attention. It seemed as though every pair of eyes that locked onto him had to glance at Boogie then back to Nathan with confusion. Boogie was known to have playthings and people bore his mark as a sign of discounts, but Nathan hadn’t heard of Boogie bringing anyone to a club. If true, Nathan was the first. Boogie’s ears flicked as if he knew the monkey had the most smug grin on his face then and there.

“Go mingle,” Boogie ordered after getting himself a drink. “Let the bottom feeders enjoy their meal.”

“There’s no need to be an asshole, sir,”

Boogie sipped from his glass without acknowledging him. “There’s not a person in this club I haven’t tatted or pierced. I know everyone’s secret here, and there’s only a few people I actually respect. The rest are sycophants eager for cat cock. It’s why I barely go out to these anymore. You’re my sloppy seconds by proxy, so go into the pig trough.”

With an attitude like that it’s a wonder Boogie had customers at all. Given the skill displayed across Nathan’s body, it was almost worth it. What made it worth it was that the monkey enjoyed being trampled underfoot by the panther’s words and he was starting to suspect there were others given how quickly people swarmed to the monkey once freed from his leash.

They asked who he was and he responded as Boogie instructed, showing off his tats and piercings to explain what being a canvas meant. People asked about the extra detail on his paw print tat, with some showing off their own. Boogie seemed to have a varied choice of people because Nathan saw the tattoo on babes, guys, twinks, butches, transmen, transwomen, and non-binary hoes alike. Of course, none had his outline. None were special to Boogie. A few took that personally, storming off to get another drink, while others laughed it off as if thankful the panther didn’t focus his attention on them.

The more he talked, the more people came. The more people that came, the more handsy they grew. Soft hands, hard hands, fingers calloused or otherwise, long fake nails or just sharp ones, and more prodded over his fur. They pulled at his piercings, traced over his tattoos, and even played with his tail. Normally that would have been a scene ender, but Nathan was too high on attention to care. It grew harder to notice Boogie at the bar from the gathering crowd, but he looked over on occasion to witness Nathan being swarmed. Nathan grinned with each caught glance.

“Must have cost a fortune to get all of these,” said a rhino with heavy tribal tattoos and a thick stubble. He towered over everyone, save the one giraffe but his girth made it clear who was the largest amongst them. A row of rings hung from his horns, and a paw print tat was made clear by his tight pectoral under his mesh shirt.

Nathan started to nod only to stop halfway. It’d just occurred to him that he hadn’t paid for anything Boogie had given him. Ink, piercings, even the clothes he borrowed today. He’d been so caught up in the haze that was in service to the panther that the lack of his funds being spent never occurred to him. This realization made his face go blank, then flush with red, a sign for the rhino that his words revealed far more than he expected.

“You gotta be kidding,” the rhino said, his heavy hand firmly cupping Nathan’s sack, “You telling me he did this to you for free?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say free,” Nathan said, sheepishly pulling his hands behind his back, “I mean, the price was my body. How else is a canvas supposed to pay?”

“That why you’re out here without him right now?” The rhino asked, palming Nathan’s chin with the same hand that fondled his sack. He tasted his own sweat on the thumb pushing past his lip. Nathan tried to reach for the rhino but found his hands had been locked behind him by way of leather cuffs expertly slipped on. A similar sensation fell upon his ankles, leaving him unable to spread his legs out far.

“I…well…” Nathan was never one against sex with strangers. Kinky sex was even better. But a strange sensation came over him when the rhino pressed in. A sense that he did not want this big man to spread his ass wide or make him choke on his cock. A sense that the only person he wanted plowing into him was the man he’d given his body too. The panther that, conveniently, had appeared behind him like a shadow rising from the ground.

“Tom,” Boogie’s voice was cold like a winter night. “Getting frisky, are we?”

Tom, the rhino, put up a smile but backed off, “Just having some ideas, none against your wishes, Boogie.”

“That why you got a ballgag in your hand?”

Tom looked at the gag in question. It was blue and big enough to make Nathan’s jaw ache at the sight of it. Boogie pulled Nathan close but held his hand open for Tom to hand the gag over. “Thanks for trussing up my bitch. I’ll take it from here.”

Whatever protests Nathan had were silenced when Boogie firmly pressed the gag behind his teeth. The leather straps bit into his skin when looped around his head. Like a prisoner he was led out of the crowd and into a stairwell, each step painstakingly careful so not to trip. From there they’d reached the bottom floor where the glass ceiling exposed the dance floor above. Curious eyes glanced down at them as Boogie bent Nathan over a spare beam left over in the dungeon play room.

“Everyone wants a show,” Boogie muttered, trailing his finger through an assortment of torture tools along the wall. “Best to show them why none of them could make the cut for so long.”

Nathan knew his bouncy butt could take a beating, but he found himself clenching at the sight of the small leather paddle Boogie took. It looked more like a leather sap, and any protest his gagged mouth made were ignored as the panther latched the monkey’s piercings into the floor via an interconnected chain.

Strong hands spread his cheeks for thick beads slipped in by cold lube. Six in total, with the largest feeling like three inches had been pushed into his ass. Even as experienced as he was, Nathan found himself focusing on keeping loose so as not to disappoint Boogie.

Then came the strikes. A sap was closer to a whip than a paddle in its smaller area of striking, but it was blunter. Every strike was like getting punched by a small fist, a small thud that rippled through his back cheeks like they were jello. Every hit made his bottom half both numb and ache together. Then came the crack of the riding crop, adding a stinging fire to the cocktail of agony. Nathan clenched his fists throughout, fighting the urge to look up at the crowd above. The chained rings keeping his face to the floor were an excellent deterrent.

His tears had pooled to the matting beneath him when Boogie grew tired of striking his backside. Throbbing waves emanated from his cheeks, burning and aching. He could only imagine how bruised and red it was, considering it closer to a twin speedbag than a bubbly butt. His sack had gotten off easy by comparison, with only swift strikes from the crop and Boogie’s hand keeping it warm. Attempts to stop the strikes via his tail were met with harsher hits and a tied tail.

If Boogie cared he did not show it. He released Nathan from the bar only to shove him against the nearest wall and force him to sit. Tear hazy eyes couldn’t make out the figures staring up from above, but they were able to see the shadow that was Boogie loom over him. Dexterous fingers slipped out his gag and slipped in a chain through his teeth, one threaded through his nipple rings, forcing his maw open lest he hurt himself more. His wide-open maw was a perfect socket for the panther’s cock.

Yet as the panther buried his dick down the monkey’s open maw, an act Nathan greatly enjoyed, there was something off about it. Maybe it was Nathan’s subspace detachment, but he had a feeling Boogie wasn’t as into this as he wanted to be. He certainly liked it enough to be hard and Nathan knew the panther enjoyed making him choke, but there was a forced nature to the act. Like a performance he was putting on, rather than the cold distant and expectant domination he usually carried.

Then, like Boogie’s salvia-drenched cock slapping him, he realized it. Boogie was putting on a show. One meant to scare people away. Just like he had tried with Nathan on their first meeting.

Though that part of him that realized this was overwhelmed by the sheer bliss of being used as he was. His nerves danced with confusion as endorphins surged through his body. He giggled when Boogie pulled him up by his headfur, spitting out the chain just enough to utter something he’d only said in his thoughts.

“Master.”

Boogie stopped. The lights from above silhouette his form in a way that hid his face in the haze of tears Nathan’s joyful eyes cried. The monkey still felt something in that look. Rage? Confusion? Hope? He couldn’t be sure. Concerns for it fell aside when the panther slapped his face. Not a hard slap, though it certainly echoed. But a firm, commanding, strike to tell Nathan that his mouth wasn’t to be used for speaking. The monkey still grinned with delight at the pain, even as he was pushed into a bondage swing.

New restraints suspended him over the ground. His ankle cuffs were removed to keep his legs spread apart, exposing his reddened and bruised backside to whomever wandered into the room. Not that he’d be shared with anyone, Boogie had made that clear without words, preferring to possessively grope the monkey’s bubbly behind and give it a firm slap before grabbing weirds for his piercings. Only those on the monkey’s head were spared, leaving him to feel gravity’s tug on his sensitive bits. Boogie’s cock spread his lips before he could complain, shoving deep without care of the gurgling sounds.

The panther growled in the way Nathan loved to hear it. The manner that told the monkey his master was enjoying himself and refused to admit it. That resentful joy only he could bring out as his personal fuck toy, his punching bag, his canvas of pleasure and pain. The burning passion encouraged Boogie to hilt his entire shaft down Nathan’s maw, going so deep that Nathan couldn’t even taste the seed until his master pulled free. Every breath came with the wet aftermath of his master’s cum in his throat, sealed now by the return of the ballgag. And while he’d love nothing more than Boogie’s cock in his ass in place of the beads, his master needed a moment to get hard. A moment he spent striking the monkey’s back with a rubber nine-tailed flogger he grabbed off the wall.

Nathan peered up at the crowd above in the lucid moments between impacts. The large crowd had dispersed, leaving only the most sadistic or masochistic viewers watching. Some left their modesty at the curtains, others hid it behind skirts that didn’t account for his view and their lack of undies. Pride swelled in his chest when seeing the envy in their eyes. They all wanted what Boogie was doing, regardless of their individual reasoning. They couldn’t have Boogie. He was Nathan’s master. He belonged to him.

A two finger grip on the base of his beads brought Nathan back into the moment. He craned his head back, eyes wide at Boogie’s intense glare toward the beads in question. The beads popped out like a ripcord with one mighty pull. The sudden pull made Nathan cry into his gag, throwing his head back in sudden ecstasy only to hang in sadness at the newfound emptiness. The beads clattered to the ground without care as Boogie lined his cock into the waiting hole of his bitch.

Nathan felt his master’s cock impale him with a single thrust. His teeth buried into the gag as his smile blossomed behind it. It pulsed inside him, the rhythm of Boogie’s rapid heartbeat mixed with the rapid and deep thrusts of a predator enjoying its prey. The weight of his pistoning made the monkey’s bound body swing, causing the weights on his piercings to sway back and forth. The cold metal collided with his skin, a mere afterthought of the sensations pulsating through Nathan’s body.

Pain erupted around his shoulder. Two large pin points surrounded by smaller ones. Teeth. Boogie bit him. Fuck. Boogie was biting him. Possessively holding him down with his maw as those hips turned his backside to jelly. Big strong hands wrapped over his chest with claws digging just enough to hurt without breaking skin. The wet plapping sounds echoed off the sounds with quick breaths and gagged grunts. A paw reached between Nathan’s suspended crotch and gripped the free hanging balls of his caged cock tight.

It’d been a week since he felt it. A week of tiptoeing at the edge whilst servicing on his knees or bending over. For an instant he felt lighter than the suspension, lighter than air. His whole body took in a breath. Then the wave hit. Thick goopy cum spurted in streams from his cage, broken by the piercing holding it there. Boogie’s grip kept him from spasming, kept him safe from the sudden sensation of his body tensing with pleasure. At that moment Nathan had never felt safer. Even his master had halted his thrusts, all to keep him safe.

But Boogie wasn’t done with him, not yet. He dragged a hand with a pool of seed in his paw over Nathan’s face, nearly blinding the monkey with his own cum before resuming his pistoning. They were short and hard, not once leaving the monkey unfilled. Not until he sensed the hot seed seeping into him, brought on by another moment seized with sharp teeth and claws.

“Enjoy the show?” Boogie asked. Not to Nathan, whom he only acknowledged with a firm spank and a hold on his ass to keep him from twisting in the air. Nathan tried to peer up at the crowd overhead, but the cum in his eyes and the haze of his focus had turned them all into silhouettes he couldn’t discern from shadows.

Not that it mattered.

***

There wasn’t much aftercare. Boogie let him rest in the lounge area with a bottle of water and a blanket. His master spent that time away from him, mostly mingling with people who continued to pester him on the nature of their relationship. As if Boogie hadn’t just given them all a show to make that detail clear.

A few people came by to talk to Nathan. Some of them he even knew, to his surprise. Apparently, there were hardcore clubs he didn’t know about until today where all the cool crowd hung out, and now they wanted Nathan’s attention because he suddenly wasn’t a poser anymore. Nathan nodded his head with a fake smile when they talked. He didn’t hold any animosity toward them, but the way they pressed gave him the impression he was like that before meeting Boogie and suffered backlash from the cringe.

He didn’t need their approval anymore. Only Boogie’s attention mattered. Which was why, as they were leaving the club, Nathan didn’t part ways when Boogie told him too.

“You need bus fare?” He said in a way that was both dismissive and sincere, especially since he pulled out his wallet to fish for cash.

“I want to go to your place.”

Boogie scoffed, “You and everyone inside.”

“I mean it.”

Boogie stopped. “So?”

“Look, you haven’t made me pay for any of these, so let’s stop pretending there’s nothing but a transaction here,” Nathan exposed his sleeve, “You like me. You don’t want to admit it because of some baggage and, frankly, I don’t want to dig into that until you’re ready. But I called you my master in there, and you didn’t stop. You didn’t just leave. You liked that. So let’s stop pretending. Take me to your house. Let’s do this for real.”

“Real?” Boogie towered over the monkey, “You have any idea what that means? You won’t be able to walk away?” He pulled Nathan by his nose ring, “No escape.”

Nathan smiled, “Why run from heaven?”

“It’s more hell.”

“Same difference.”

Boogie grinned. “Alright, faggot. Bet.”