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"Time to go, tiger," the lion said as he handed me a small satchel to take with us. "Don't forget the key," he said.

As I followed my master out of the room and into the hotel corridor, I couldn't help but reflect on what an amazing 24 hours it had been. It was hard to believe that it was just yesterday that I had first met this incredible animal. He had captivated me and taken me - physically to be sure - but in every other way as well as I willingly gave myself to him. He had become my master, and I was his mate, his tiger, his slave.

I looked up and was once again mesmerized by the grace with which he walked in front of me. I watched his muscles ripple softly as he walked, his tail swishing casually behind him. Nether too large nor too muscular, his powerful frame was accented with his golden fur, his mane a deeper brown. To think that I could not only admire this regal beast from afar but also serve him made my cock stir once again in its sheath, and I shifted a little as I walked, trying to retain a bit of modesty.

We stepped into the lift at the end of the corridor and my master - the title already seemed completely natural - pressed the button for the ground floor. As the doors closed, he leaned over and whispered in my ear, "This seems familiar," and he caressed my ass tenderly with his paw. I'd lost all hope of modesty as a moan escaped my lips and my shaft quickly reached its full extension. My tail thrashed, banging the side of the elevator with a thump, but the ride was only two floors, and in a moment, the elevator rang out its electronic call, signaling we'd arrived. My master removed his paw, but I was still panting with my cock exposed and red as the door opened and he stepped out.

I followed behind him into the lobby, trying to close the gap between us so his large frame would provide me some cover for my arousal. This was a double-edged sword, however, as the proximity to my master only fueled my lust for his touch, ensuring I would not be calmed anytime soon.

The automatic glass doors slid open and we walked out into late morning, my senses filling with the sounds and smells of the city. I was assaulted by the sounds of construction going on, building some new hotel or car park or high rise. I could smell the burnt air from the large welds that held the steel skeleton of the building together, mixed with diesel from heavy equipment. A slight breeze carried the voices of the workers and the machinery down to ground level to mix with the sound of the light traffic that passed by. I could just make out the scent of the Thames in the distance, its slight saltiness contrasting with the surrounding air.

The lion walked down the road to the left and I followed, letting him lead the way to the nearby Tube stop. (More accurately, I suppose, it was a DLR stop, but I couldn't be bothered with the distinction after the incredible experience of the past day.) The train came quickly, and the two of us headed to the center of London to visit the city's famed Science Museum.

After a few changes and a brief ride on the Tube, we emerged once again above ground at South Kensington, and we padded down the pedestrian tunnel to the museum. I'd always been interested in science so the massive museum was sure to be a hit. Still, of everything that would be on display inside, I was pretty sure that the best exhibit I'd see would be the feline walking beside me.

My master held the door open for me as we walked inside and into the massive Energy Hall. We paused a moment by the giant steam engines, admiring the large pistons and valves and the craftsmanship that went into their design and construction. My master nuzzled my neck, "We could put a dildo on one of those and make you a steam powered sex machine," he purred.

My mind instantly imagined such a contraption taking me, its powerful engine driving me to ever increasing heights of ecstasy. I could hear the whoosh of escaping steam and the clunk of the rods as they pistoned into me with their well-oiled mechanical efficiency. Tightly held in place, I moaned as their unrelenting motion thrust in and out of me, stimulating my prostate and causing me to leak with pre. I heard a click, and the thrusts came faster now, the indefatigable machine pumping me rhythmically. I arched my back and let out a soft moan, my cock hard and dripping...

"Tiger," I heard my master say firmly as my daydream quickly faded. I cleared my head and looked up at him.

"I'm... sorry, Master. I got a little carried away."

He nodded disapprovingly, "Yes, I can see that." I lowered my head and flattened my ears. "You'll need to learn some control."

I nodded quietly as he turned and padded off. "Come on, tiger," he called.

The lion led the way upstairs to another of the museum's many galleries, and I followed quietly behind him. Even I had been surprised at how easily I had gotten lost in my arousal, and I was less embarrassed at my display than ashamed at displeasing my master. My inexperience had showed, and I knew I could be better than that.

We walked through a gallery filled with old scientific instruments, but I wasn't paying much attention, so preoccupied I had been with my failing in the main hall. My master stopped by an antique model of the solar system, and regarded me. "Is something wrong, tiger?" he asked quietly.

"I..." I paused. "I know I should have been better behaved downstairs," I said softly.

He waited a moment, studying my face. "Yes, tiger, you should have," he said. "But I know that you didn't mean it and that you'll try harder next time, won't you?"

I swallowed and nodded, "Of course, I will, Master."

He put his paw on my head and stroked my fur softly, his voice taking on a greater tenderness. "Then that's the important thing. I will look after your training, tiger, and together we will make you a better slave."

I looked up into his eyes silently. They sparkled like fire, filled with love and caring, but also with passion and determination. I knew I would be better. I had to be. Not just for me, but for him, for my master who would bring out the absolute best I could be. I nodded. "Thank you, Master. I look forward to it."

He smiled. "Good. Now let's enjoy the rest of the day." He gave me a light lick on the cheek and brushed the tip of my tail with the tuft of his own. We turned into a room filled with early computing and communications gadgets. My master peered through the cases, pointing out various devices he had used or was familiar with. I was genuinely surprised by what I saw; many of the names were ones I'd heard of but that had never made it over to my side of the pond, and my master and I enjoyed exchanging stories of our younger years. As we made our way through the exhibit, I heard my master's stomach growl, a sentiment echoed by my own.

"Master, would you like to stop and get something to eat?" I asked.

He smiled, "There's a restaurant here called the Deep Blue Café. I've been wanting to try it forever. How about we do that?" Before long, we were seated at one of the cafe's long, illuminated tables, with plates of food set before us. I looked out from the restaurant back towards the museum's exhibit space as I gnawed on a chicken bone. "There's an IMAX theater here," I noticed.

My master nodded. "Did you want to see something?"

I grinned, "It's been years since I've seen an IMAX film. I think it would be fun, Master." And so, after lunch, my master and I stood in the ticket queue for the IMAX theater, looking up at the listings to decide which film to see. The choice was obvious the moment we both noticed it: Roar: Lions of the Kalahari, whose one remaining showing that afternoon was conveniently only a short time away.

We secured our tickets and rode the escalator up to the theater. I nuzzled my master as we took our seats and looked at the film's description in the pamphlet we'd been given. It said we'd see "the most amazing lion behavior ever to be seen on the giant screen" and suggested we'd shake as "the lion's roar thunders across the theater". I pointed out that last part to my master. "Even the multichannel IMAX lion's roar couldn't possibly compare to yours, Master," I grinned, remembering my master's screams of ecstasy in the elevator the day before. He chuckled.

The lights dimmed and the film began, and it wasn't long before we were bathed in the light of the African safari. I shivered a little as an image of a powerful lion filled the gigantic screen, even though he was nowhere near as handsome as the one sitting beside me. Suddenly, I felt my master's paw come to a rest on my crotch, causing me to shiver even more as my shaft stiffened in my pants.

I looked over to my master and saw a mischievous smile in the reflected light from the screen. He leaned over and purred suggestively, just loud enough for me to hear but too quiet to be noticed among the film's aggressive soundtrack. "Master," I protested as quietly as I could, but he moved his paw to my muzzle, commanding my silence. I swallowed and nodded, returning my attention to the screen.

A moment later, the lion's paw once again rested above my shaft. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Enough with the lions. Show me my tiger's cock." I shot my master another look, "What, now?" I asked.

He nodded quietly, "Yes, slave." I let out a soft moan and glanced about the theater. What few people there were were focused on the film, and my master's antics had apparently gone unnoticed. Still, I was reluctant. I looked at my master again and saw that he was serious. I quietly unhooked my belt and the button on my pants, shifting a little to pull my now fully hard cock free of the material. My master immediately gripped its base, squeezing gently. I moaned before I could stop myself, but once again, the film's soundtrack, at a temporary crescendo during a pursuit, masked my sound.

For the next few minutes, my master merely held my cock, his warmth emanating from his pawpads and bathing my shaft in its glow. Occasionally, he'd give me another squeeze as if to remind me to whom I belonged. My breathing slowed, becoming more labored, and I tried to focus on the story unfolding on the IMAX screen.

Onscreen, the tension between the two lions in the film was building, and it looked like a fight for dominance would soon erupt. In the theater, though, there was no question of who was in charge as my master began to slowly stroke my cock. I squirmed in my seat, trying to remain calm and in control despite my master's actions. I grabbed the armrests in the theater, gripping them tightly and gritting my teeth as I struggled not to cry out from the pleasure my master was giving me.

His paws slid across the full length of my shaft, slowing only as he reached the head. There, he pressed down with his palm, twisting my sensitive cocktip between his pawpads. He paused for a moment, letting the copious precum streaming from my tigerhood slicken his palm, then slid back down slowly, applying just enough pressure to tease the underside of my shaft. After just a few strokes, I was quivering with arousal, almost completely oblivious to the film and the others in the theater.

My master reached towards me with his other forepaw now, gripping the base of my member tightly and tugging gently in opposition to his stroking. I knew that as my lion's slave, I'd be judged by whether I could stay in control, and I was determined after my earlier misstep to prove myself worthy. But that was far easier said than done, especially when my lion was expertly stroking my cock, playing with it as if it was his personal sex toy, which I suppose it was. My master had me on the edge of orgasm and he know it; my attempts to stay quiet proving increasingly futile.

I snarled softly, searching deep in me for any last ounce of control. I could feel my cum pumping hotly into my shaft, pulsing and twitching with need. In the distance, I heard the soundtrack from the long-forgotten film start to swell, its African drums pounding and shaking the theater as if to predict the inevitable explosion that was to come. I pressed myself back against the seats, bracing myself, reminding myself that my cum no longer was mine but belonged to my master, and that I could not disrespect him by spilling it without permission. Still, I knew that it was very much a losing proposition. I knew that I would soon burst.

I saw my master lean over towards me, and I felt his hot breath on my neck as he drew close. I was shaking, wracked with need but determined even against possibility to fulfill my master's expectations. I saw my master open his muzzle.

"Cum, tiger," he whispered in my ear. "Roar with the lions."

My body processed the order before my brain did, and I came instantly, unable to suppress a loud roar as jets of tiger seed shot from my shaft and across my chest and face. At that exact moment, the film, too, had reached its climax, and the snarls and roars of the two lions fighting for dominance mixed with my own to echo through the cinema . I have no idea which of the two lions won the fight, because the only lion that mattered to me was beside me, holding my shaft as I continued to spray cum for several moments more.

"Good tiger," he whispered quietly, smiling, and he groomed my face gently, finishing just as the film's end credits began to roll. "Now make yourself presentable."

I nodded quietly, still very much in the haze of afterglow but responding automatically to my master's suggestion. Before the lights came back up in the theater, I had fished a towel from the satchel and finished a light self-grooming. I was, as my master suggested, presentable, if still a little tussled.

My master helped me to my feet and I walked shakily from the theater. When we were back in the museum proper, I stopped and nuzzled him. "Thank you, Master," I said quietly

"You're welcome, tiger," he replied. "The Science Museum has always been one of my favourite places to go in London" he said, grinning. After today's visit, it was certainly one of mine, too.