FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Like a king in the midst of his treasures, Benjamin was resplendent in what was a minor fashion show's worth of expensive clothing. Though fine-cut suits from skilled Italian fingers were hung with care in the closet, his shoulders could have fit in the jackets twice; it was not Benjamin who drove a Porsche, ran a law firm and maintained a gym membership, but he enjoyed the benefits of being married to a man who did.

Benjamin, when he wore normal clothing, could look presentable at best. But he was most comfortable in the lingerie of a lady, down on his knees with his husband's cock parting his jaws. Pretty pink panties accentuated his small penis; stockings drew the eyes to long, svelte legs; and perhaps most importantly, red cocksucker lipstick tinted his jowls with delicate color, and you could bet your ass that Ben loved to smear it on his man's meat like chalk on a pool cue. The fox had six older sisters, four of whom loved to use little Benny as their dress-up doll, and they apprenticed him well in the art of applying makeup. It made him beautiful in a way most women would kill to achieve and it drove his man wild.

He opened the long box across his lap. "Oh, is this for me?" he gushed to nobody but himself. He tittered like the sissy he was as he took out the teddy draped lovingly into the box, purple tissue paper sliding off and falling away. "Gosh, but my Julian will love this little number," sighed the fox, nuzzling the fabric. Light filtered through its soft white body, lending an ethereal quality evocative of dawnlight through a frosted window. He cooed, tail swishing and upsetting wads of tissue gift paper strewn across the bed like shreds of wrapping paper on Christmas morning.

After laying the teddy across the bed, Benjamin picked up the sheaf of receipts from his latest escapade. Frightful totals lurked dully on the thermal paper: a hundred dollars here, four hundred there, five dollars and eighty cents from lunch, a staggering two thousand dollar proof of purchase for an imitation mink coat and still the tally went on. Gosh, but my Julian will leave my ass gaped when he sees these evil numbers!

He flicked his amber eyes up at the clock. It was now four o'clock in the afternoon, meaning Julian was just getting off work. Benjamin laid back in bed, surrounded by his pretties. He felt a bit like a dragon in its hoard of treasure. He slipped down the waistband of his teal panties (they were his well-worn favorites) and edged himself, nuzzling articles of his new clothing at random in a dreamy state of sensory overload.

At last, come nearly five o'clock, Benjamin heard the chime which indicated the front door had been opened.

Julian hummed, hanging his hat and loosening his tie. A featureless gold band glimmered on his ring finger in the warm, waning sunlight.

"Be-e-enjami-i-in," he gently called, going through the rooms of their spacious, bright apartment; this was the kind of luxury a prestigious law firm paid for. "Oh my sweet little Benjamin, my lovely fox," he crowed. "Wherever is my cocksucking husband?"

The tiger poked his head unnecessarily into each room, for the bedroom he and his fox shared loomed large at the end of the hall, one of its double doors latched and the other barely ajar. "Be-e-en," he purred into the reading room; again into his home office a note higher; the bathroom now at the same pitch as his call into reading room. "Now, where could my fox be?"

At the end of his brief search, Julian popped his handsome snout into the bedroom, his a broad head at the end of a thick neck. In his fine black suit he looked more like a mafia goon than an acclaimed attorney. The grin on his face grew as his blue eyes trailed the monstrous damage his husband had done to his Visa card, and in the center of it all, dressed head to toe in complementing sissy attire running the gamut of blue shades, lay his husband.

"There is my vixen." He pushed open the double doors and they bumped their rubber stoppers almost simultaneously. "You told me you wanted to do a little shopping."

Benjamin smiled winsomely, tail swishing off to his side. "Isn't five thousand a record low for me, sweetie?"

Julian tutted, brushing aside a teddy and sitting on the bed. "Oh, Benny. You're a handful, you know."

Though ostensibly in trouble, Ben couldn't help but smile. He skulked across the bed on all-fours, slinking about his powerful mate before going belly-up in his lap. He pawed the tiger's dense breast, cooing in a voice which had won him many things material, sexual, and romantic: "Aw, daddy, you know I don't mean to do it... it's just all those pretty pieces of clothes. The panties and the garters and," he shuddered, exulted, "god, the makeup. I can't resist."

The tiger shook his head, a wan smile on his face. "You are absolutely terrible. Just the worst." He glanced to his side, past his lover's toes which wiggled in anticipation. He lifted a pair of panties, lavender in shade and emblazoned in lace across the groin with a butterfly in mid-flight. "Have you ever worn briefs in all your life?"

"T'was a dark time in my life," Benjamin said, affecting a poetic tone which made Julian sigh and chuckle. "Besides," the fox said in his more natural patter, "wouldn't you agree that lingerie suits me so much better, daddy?"

Julian clicked his tongue, turned Benjamin over in his lap, hooked his striped fingers in the seat of his husband's panties. "So very often I've told you to go easy on my bank account. And every time I do, I come home to find my bedroom has exploded into a Victoria's Secret showroom." A slow downward tug revealed the bountiful twin curves of his husband's bottom. Benjamin was an obliging faggot; he held the bushy brush of his tail high for the tiger. "And time and again, I've punished you for it. Why, with my powers of observation, I believe I can spot a pattern: you enjoy when I bend you over and leave your ass gaped and winking with my fat, uncircumcised cock - am I mistaken?"

Benjamin giggled; a reedy and faggoty noise of considerable irritation to tender ears, yet it was a sound Julian had fallen in love with long ago. "Oh, gosh, daddy," he gushed, flicking his tail against the tiger's chin. "That's why you're a seven-figure lawyer. You can spot holes nobody else can."

Julian shook his head again, more subtly. He was smiling, but something had nested behind his eyes, rotten sleaze which he turned on in the courtroom when he knew he had the case won but wanted to wring a little pleasure from it like a cat toying with a bloodied mouse. "Oh, yes, yes, yes," he agreed, stroking the wedge of white between Benjamin's orange ass cheeks. He slipped his finger into the crack, trailing it over his husband's anus and taint, claw retracted. Benjamin cooed; the tiger grinned. "You so want to be fucked. To have your ass ruined. That's why you blew all this money, I know."

"I've been so bad, daddy," Benjamin purred. He chirruped, "Punish me!"

"But of course, my sweet," said Julian, a gentleman who would willingly lay down his life for the sissy in his lap. He palmed the double bubble of his husband's ass again... then raised his palm and brought it down with meteoric force, the smack of flesh upon flesh barely muted by fur.

Beneath, Benjamin shrieked at this new pain. Playful paddling was one thing, but Julian's strike raised instant welts on his bottom. He began to protest and bitch when his husband did it again. Soon he'd suffered three smacks, four, five. Benjamin squealed and thrashed, beginning to sob, but when he struggled, Julian closed an implacable paw around the base of his neck. He felt like a little boy again and not in a good way.

"Julian! Ju-u-ulia-a-an!" Benjamin yowled, his voice cutting above the repetitive slap, slap, slap of the tiger's hard palm on his plush behind.

Soon Benjamin whimpered and sucked snot. He abandoned his sissy elegance as the boymeat of his cheeks blistered and bruised. "God dammit, Julian!" he shrilled. "You're hurting me!"

"That's the point!" bellowed the tiger, and a wicked laugh only a few years removed from his joyfully bombastic performances at university shook forth from deep in his lungs. He paused his steady strikes to unsheathe his claws and he laid into his husband afresh, now digging and pricking and raking at the point where his palm met the cheeks and flattened their fatty flesh into reddening pancakes. His feline claws scraped bloody ruts and Benjamin's plaintive cries hit a shrill octave.

Benjamin scratched his husband's leg, but his own claws were uselessly blunt, faggoty things he personally filed with an emery board and painted sensibility-defying colors more at home on a twelve-year-old vixen than a twenty-eight-year-old reynard. He blubbered and screamed, gulping for air through his mouth, for his nostrils were congested and impossible. Tears of hate streaked down his cheeks and his cock, tiny and incapable of offending anybody, was pitifully flaccid. Julian's plump tigermeat was not, pushing into the fox's belly through blue boxers and black dress slacks.

Over and over, Julian beat his husband's ass. His palm was singing, its flesh as reddened and raw as Benjamin's bottom, but where this new feeling was humiliating and dreadful to the fox, Julian found it to be exquisite. This would be part of their sexual repertoire from now on whether the fox's shopping habits changed or not. Fucking Benjamin was delightful, it had always been so, but he could think of few times when his cock was more ready than it was then. He brought down his palm in one last, resounding crack, and it hung heavy in the air like the scent of perfume Benjamin insisted on dousing himself in.

Little hitches of sobs and cries and runny nose suckles were the only sounds to be heard then. Julian left his paw where it last fell, claws pricked into the skin, blood rising around them in a quintet of angry red eyes. The tiger breathed heavily, feeling constricted in his fine jacket. Precum soaked through his pants. "You--," he quaked. "You disobedient little faggot. I love you."

"Well, I--, I fucking hate you right now," Benjamin sniveled. "Let me go."

Julian obliged, only to trip his husband up before he slipped away. Benjamin fell to the floor with a cry, and as he tried to rise the tiger took him by the ears and truncated his attempt, forcing Ben to his knees instead. "We're not through," said Julian with an edge of darkness in his voice. "Not until daddy says so." Soft-spoken pleasure joined his cruelty when he growled, "And I'll blister your ass until you see it my way, boy."

Benjamin glowered at his husband, a once lively face made sallow with tears and bloodshot eyes. He felt hate... but he felt respect too. Something had changed irrevocably in their marriage, and though he couldn't tell if it was good or bad, he knew that it was as permanent as death. "I'm sorry I spent your money," he murmured."

The tiger smiled. It tugged at the corners of his mouth especially and his teeth began to show. "You're sorry, what?"

Benjamin's cheeks regained their blush. "I'm sorry, daddy. I shouldn't--, I never should have spent your money... I'm so sorry." He was cowering, avoiding Julian's gaze. "Please forgive me."

Julian unhanded his husband's ears. As he unbuttoned his fly, he cooed, "Daddy forgives you, boy. Now you can make it up to me."

As raw as his bottom was, as betrayed as he felt by his husband whom had played this little game so willingly in the past, Benjamin felt genuine lust as he put eyes on his lover's cock. Its slow plunge into his muzzle assuaged his hate. He loved Julian more than anybody, and the sting in his bloody buttocks served to remind him well never to waste his daddy's money again.