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He was well known for his silence and interminable stoicism. A figure of terrifying magnitude that instilled such trepidation from a single look, he was in all senses a beast. At his core he was a leviathan amongst mortals, a thunderous demon that nobody dared to cross. His size was staggering, as if two men had been combined into one, heavy even to the very eye and thicker than steel. When he was in the room he did not simply occupy it but consume it utterly and completely, commanding everyone's attention with but a word, a syllable. He was dominance personified, a monster in the flesh, swollen and gargantuan. Tendaji watched in pristine quiet as the gruesome stallion's arms bulged and fists were raised, knuckles cracked against palms like thunderclaps, every digit in their own right bloated and huge, a testament to their wielder's brute strength.

These were the fists that the horse had promised would punch the lion's ass into submission. These were the fists that soon would be pummelling his guts until he could take no more. These were the fists that assured Tendaji that even when he begged for mercy, he would only have to go further beyond.

He swallowed, the sensation feeling raw to his throat as he knelt there at the god's hooves.

Though the lion knew his real name was Tiber, he had only been introduced to him by his reputation's namesake: The Law. But even that title was redundant to Tendaji. He had been explicitly told gruffly by the man himself he was to be 'sir' or 'boss' and nothing else.

"Do you know how big I am?" The stallion said aloud, observing his open paw and undulating his fingers as if looking upon himself for the first time, taking in the silky white fuzz and dextrous tendons, "How large I truly am?"

Tendaju shook his head meekly in a lowered to a bow, though his gaze was drawn ever upward, past the sculpted calves and thicker thighs, ignoring even the fat bulge and the mound of a muscled stomach. He stared, almost irreverently, at the man's paws as they caressed and assessed their monumental size.

"Twelve fucking inches," the horse hissed, boastful and with a swell of pride in his already meaty chest, "though I reckon it's more. But all the same..." There was a pause, for dramatic effect, as the grey indifference of mirrored shades glinted, almost as if they themselves were looking at Tendaji and not the stallion, turning to take the lion into his sights. He caught a reflection of himself, an illusion so small even he didn't recognise himself were it not for flash of blue of his mane and tail, contrasting against the pallid yellows and golds of his fur. His mind cast thought to the feeling of the leather shackles of his wrists and ankles, the cold steel cage fitted around his cock and balls, to the gag that locked a dildo tapping just at the edge of his throat. Those shades offered him the vision of himself kneeling upon the bare wood floor, nude, servile, obedient, suffering. Those fists clenched, turning themselves into unwieldy fists, "They will be going inside of you."

Tendaji shuddered at the statement, something visceral that ran down his spine not like fear but altogether entirely different. It was primal, like a surge of need, a hunger that spoke to his inner thoughts and rather than shy away and beg for mercy, it steered into the stallion's fire and screamed yes, please, and all the more.

"Get up in the sling, boy, show me that pussy."

He pulled himself to his footpaws, every motion making him feel heavy, limbs sluggish as if they were lead, and he swayed as he rose. Standing the room that felt ever smaller for having the stallion inside it, Tendaji almost miniscule in the man's shadow, and the space between them afforded little except for the sling in question; a still blanket of hard, heavy duty leather, suspended by chains amidst a sea of intricate poles framed together with bolted iron and grubby silver. Tendaji lifted himself onto its lip, his rump left perched just off its edge as he rolled his back down, settling his weight into the sling, an almost dizzying sensation as suddenly his footpaws left the floor and he was drifting in the ebb of the chains. The world became upturned, his view now encompassing the beams of the roof, too dark for detail, and from either side everything was left upon its side. Looking down now rather than complying in obedience let him stare at his master, the stallion waiting ever patiently with legs spread apart, arms folded, like a true officer. With his legs raised, tail absently hanging to the floor, his ass was perfectly splayed out for the horse's pleasure. Access was all his, and he wasted no time in declaring his intent.

The distance between them was closed in a breath and Tendaji felt paws groping at his cheeks. His rear was entirely ensconced by the stallion's palm, the fat paw much too big with fingers passing from buttock to hip and further, demonstrating for the first time the gruesome difference between them both. The lion felt a tremble build in his gut, silent affirmation in his mind that told him this was happening, and he lay back and allowed it all without protest. His wrists and ankles were latched to the chains, holding him forever upwards though his weight rested back. There was no escape now.

He watched, mesmerised, as the stallion produced a sports bottle, popping the cap and emptying some of its contents from a height onto his paw. What followed, with a slick fart of air bubbles, was a runny waterfall of the milkiest, slipperiest ooze that Tendaji had ever felt as it cascaded from the nozzle to his ass, pooling and slathering the horse's paws as he twined himself in the liquid. Lube, not just the simplest kind found in any convenient little bottle for the night stand, but something industrial, something not meant for what they were about to do, but that was the point. It was all wrong and the lion loved it all the more.

Wet, slick fingers began to probe at his hole. The stallion's oversized fingers proved a difficult challenge, as if bracing for a small dildo for each, but with rippling muscle teeming behind his arm and dextrous digits that refused to accept defeat, the male worked his way inside, much to the lion's gasping, squirming agonising delight. Fisting was never an easy task. It required patience and persistence from both ends, and always there would be an undercurrent of the body's complaints as it was reshaped to do something it was not explicitly designed to do. But the capacity was there, Tendaji knew he could take it already - though he had never had anyone as large as the horse's meaty paws before - but there still came the pang of overfullness as three fingers roughly shoved their way into his hole. It was that cramped feeling, as guts suddenly become occupied by too much, but as the lion felt himself instinctively clench down, nerves reacting as they should without a thought, there would be no resisting the horse. His paw held firm, knuckle deep in his hole dripping in lube, three holding him open and refused to yield. Tendaji whined, head rolling back as he waged with the sensation of him inside.

"Open up," he said, voice cold, paw pushing, "Give me your cunt."

It took willpower but Tendaji breathed deep and forced himself to calm down, to allow his body to relax. It was not easy trying to convince natural thought to take a step back and allow the unthinkable to happen, but with the stallion at his rear, nearly four fingers deep in his ass, there were no other options to but to still his pounding heartbeat that rattled in his chest. Instead he pushed himself to focus on the pleasure, the slow spikes of riding pleasure that warmed his gut as fingers ground and slid inside him. Three became four, his rim became even more stretched, and his voice groaned unbeknownst to him as he climbed the scale of euphoria. There was no denying the stallion what he wanted as more clouded ooze was smeared against his backside, now coated in strands and drippings of lube.

A thumb so soon seemed an insurmountable challenge, but Tendaji knew it was a hurdle he would have to jump if the horse was to continue having his way. His ass sang as it ached around the brute's fingers, knuckles grinding at his rim, tips probing into the soft folds of his guts. He could feel every twitch of the stallion's movements, an overwhelming urge to grab the chains and cling to them for dear life as those fingers worked ever deeper on an insatiable journey into his innards. How deep would the horse go? Suddenly the lion considered not just the horse's fist but his forearm too, even daring to imagine the bicep, all finding their way through his far smaller bowels, from colon to intestine, would the stallion ever stop before he got deep to his shoulder? It made Tendaji mewl in pitiful submission, the decision so far beyond his call that it was now up to the stallion's whim who had already set his sights on breaking the lion's hole until it suckled on his wrist.

One paw slipped to two. The horse worked fingers from either side back and forth against the lion's rim, pulling and stretching at the taut muscle to coax it into giving more room than what feasibly it should give. Tendaji grovelled in this sensation. That deep, swimming stretch of flesh slick and warm being opened up under the stallion's ministration like an addiction to his brain that he craved it even more. Without realising, paws groping his body, he grabbed at his cheeks and pulled them apart, granting the stallion even more access than before to plunder his hole and make his ass yawn. Three or four fingers eased their way against each other, one gliding out as the other moved in, as if sawing at the lion's hole as it gave more and more to the stallion, whose expression, whilst his eyes remained hidden behind his shades, was belied by the small, edging grin on his lips, a soft pink tongue darting out to moisten his mouth as he seemed so absorbed in Tendaji's stretching ass, engaged in the sloppy cacophony and intent on driving his paws harder and harder as he worked tirelessly without restraint.

"Deep breaths boy," the stallion grunted, adding yet another slather of lube to an already soaked rump, "It's going in now, all twelve inches and then some..."

Whatever yield the horse had worked, it seemed enough for him to arrive at the decision to break down the last of the lion's barriers. He felt the fat thumb smear its way through a river of lube and join the rest of the stallion's fingers of one paw, pursed together to a blunt point that now probed his stretched ass. Tendaji moaned, struggling between the strain and the pleasure, as the horse pushed, unrelenting and shifting his fist around to grind his way inside. With the strength that brimmed beneath his arm, the lion knew deep down that he could very well just strap him down and shove his fist in one punch if he so wanted, but he was working towards breaking the lion willingly. Tendaji was to surrender his hole absolutely, so that the horse was entirely in control without so much as a whimper of protest. He wanted to give it to him, he wanted to let the horse take his ass and stake his claim, locked arm to guts so that they both knew who was in charge.

There was resistance, not because Tendaji was fighting the horse, but that his body was reaching its capacity. Of course he knew he'd be taken further, and that a fist would pale in comparison to whatever else the horse had in store for him, but there and then it was a challenge. He gritted his teeth and bit back the struggled whine of tight pain that rang in his gut, his toes curling on themselves as something much too big forced its way into a cavity much too small for it, in the wrong direction things were meant to go. But the stallion persisted, Tendaji endured, and then, with one sudden burst of quiet speed followed by a triumphant bubbling fart of lube and air, it happened.

The horse's paw sank in deep, losing its streamlined shape and coiling upon itself, balled into a fist. Tendaji strangled out a gasp and groaned as he became much too full all at once. But he couldn't fight the feeling, the stallion held his arm firm, rim kissing around his wrist's girth, as he gave the lion some chance to accommodate and catalogue all the feelings that sparked in his gut. Paws grappled at chains, head rolling back against the leather, Tendaji suddenly becoming attuned to the fact that he was exhausted from the effort of opening up and now they had only just begun the true climb. The stallion, however, refused to allow the lion every reprieve possible. He kept the male focused on him, on the act itself, with guttural barks and a torrent of abuse,

"Fuck yeah, fucking cunt, you feel that?" He flexed his paw for good measure. Tendaji did indeed feel it. "I'm buried in your ass. My fist, my huge fucking fist, is sat in your loose sloppy guts." Small tugs worked on his hole, back and forth, just an inch, but it was more than enough to get his attention and bring out more gurgling moans from his breathless throat, "Yeah, no fucking amateur are you? Done this before, loose cunt. Bet you want it hard, don't you?" Tendaji didn't answer, soft silicone jammed between his jaw, but his eyes spoke volumes. He stared into the glassy reflection of himself stooped on the sling, legs hung in the air, seeing just a glimpse of his straining hole sucking on the horse's arm, he pleaded with his eyes. "Fucking right, let's see how much your pussy can take."

There was no moment to prepare himself as the horse took violent charge of the scene. His fist, still balled tight, tore itself back out of the lion's hole, much to Tendaji's euphoric horror. A scream bawled from behind the gag but the sound was lost as his body caved in around the sudden empty feeling, his guts shivering from the brutal exit. But a second wasn't wasted. The stallion, with a mighty swing, punched his fist back into the lion's stretched hole and with a lewd, disgusting slop it pushed inside, knuckles bluntly shoving at his innards and cutting a cavern into him. Tendaji hauled himself against the chains, his limbs pulling himself as best they could into the air as the sensation sang through his body, an overwhelmingly stark feeling that could neither be described as pleasure or pain but simply intense. Just intense. It never stopped, not so long as the stallion continued to yank his paw free, complete fist and all, only to slam it back inside again. Rich sounds of wet lube and beating flesh slopped into the air as the stallion punch-fucked the lion.

Mercy was the last thing on the stallion's mind as he punched his way deeper into Tendaji's guts. What had started at just the wrist was slowly, albeit steadily, carving further inside, the horse's forearm now beginning to disappear with every slam of his fist. The slap was such a satisfying noise to hear, rolling shudders through his body as he endured the brute's assault on his hole, mewling incessantly until his throat burnt itself sore. Tendaji clenched his eyes shut, thrashed in his chains when he swore it would surely become too much, but there was nothing to be done. Still the fist came at him, punching into his bowels and forcing his hole into a stretched, wide mess of lube. He could feel it, between the moments where his was actually free of the horse's paw, he could feel the soft pliant flesh of his rim now just gaping, a useless empty hole that felt far too empty, until the fist came at him again. Only then did he feel whole, with the stallion's limb sliding ever deeper into him, as he rode the intensity to some confusing point of euphoria. He couldn't decide if he liked it or not, but all he knew was that he wanted more, and the stallion was happy to deliver.

"Fuck yeah, take my fucking fist!" He growled as he began to alternate paws, one fist punching into the lion's guts only to be replaced in quick succession by the other. The brief instances between being full became ever shorter as the stallion heaved, he himself snorting and snarling from the effort as he worked the lion's hole into a beaten submission. Lube splattered everywhere, scooped and reapplied, squelching and sinking into his guts until Tendaji felt as if his guts were made of silk and the thug's fists were nothing more than the best cock he had ever felt. But it was different, altogether something else, as he groaned aloud as his whole body swam with the endless brunt.

His eyes lifted into the back of his head as Tendaji felt his legs go weak, biting upon the gag in his maw, hole battered loose and drooling onto the floor as the stallion just punched his hole to his heart's content, blissfully unaware of the cum spilling from his chastity cage as a ruined orgasm bled through him.