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Manny Tigre was unaccustomed to this kind of abuse.

Well, okay, that wasn't entirely true. He was and he wasn't. After all, Beebee, Dolly, and Tracy had throttled him into submission between their thighs dozens of times in the past.

Darius, however, was the first male to do it.

The scales that lined the horned lizard's inner thighs were softer than those that covered the rest of him, and yet the muscles beneath were hard as ironwood. They were digging into either side of Manny's neck, while a pair of strong hands cradled the back of his head, the fingers woven together like a net to hold him it place.

Manny felt his windpipe twitch with a failed inhalation. He coughed into the left pocket of Darius's groin, his snout pressed to the spot where the lizard's skimpy trunks ended and his bare scales began.

The lizard had muscled Manny down to his knees, where he was presently working a combination headscissor/crotch-smother like the pro he was. It was a hold Manny had endured dozens if not hundreds of times before, but between Darius's thighs the smells were different. There was still the tang of sweat clogging his nostrils, as always, but the musky odor wafting from Darius's lap was distinctly... male.

Manny gagged on it, his nose wrinkling in a failed attempt to recoil. Moisture pooled at the corners of his eyes. He tried to twist his head free, his shoulders rocking from side to side, but Darius reacted and moved with him, hips swaying in rhythm with the tiger's awkward struggling.

"Got you again." Green eyes smiled up at Manny. The irises were luminous but not bright, like sheets of glass backlit by fireflies. "That puts me ahead: my five subs to your two."

The lizard's firefly greens weren't the only pair of eyes trained on Manny. The gym was mostly empty tonight, but the dozen or so gazes witnessing his humiliation felt like a thousand. He might as well have been under the Superdome lights, his writhing body superimposed on the jumbo screen.

Darius lacked the raw power of Beebee or Dolly or even Manny's sister, but the tiger still failed to pry open his scaly quads - though not from lack of trying. Manny wedged his fingers between his own neck and Darius's inner thighs, but after the first thirty seconds of yanking it became clear to all in the room just how trapped he was. He spent the next minute wondering if his pride could take another tap out.

Darius rolled to his side and let his body arch as deeply as it wanted to. He splayed his thighs a moment, then drew Manny in deeper and bent his legs into an even tighter figure-four, cementing both his hold and his dominance. And to make it all worse, one of his hands groped behind his back in search of his own instep, found it, and then levered his heel toward his backside.

The hold became that much tighter. At the same time, Darius drove his hips forward while yanking on the back of Manny's head, squashing the tiger between a strong palm and that thick, meaty swell.

"Don't squeeze him too hard, Darius, I think he likes it down there," Hugh jeered from the sidelines. " Give it to him nice and slow. Let him enjoy it."

The few others in the gym laughed and made their own digs - all except Darius himself, who lacked any desire to add insult to injury. Unlike most of the meatheads in the league, and despite his impressive winning streak, the young rookie took no pleasure in taunting his opponents or boasting about his own prowess. The greens found Manny again, still smiling, but not with anything that even faintly resembled malice. He wasn't enjoying Manny's pain, but the thrill of his own body in action, and the feel of something soft and warm wedged between his thighs.

"Let me know when it gets too tight, okay?" His voice was as tender as his quads were strong. Manny found himself nodding - yes, he would be sure to let Darius know - his snout inadvertently rubbing against the meaty, masculine swell.

Darius nodded back, letting his mouth join the greens in their smile. Their joy. Clutching two striped arms with just one of his own, the lizard used his free paw to dislodge the box-shaped snout from his crotch and maneuver Manny's chin onto his pelvis. His package was a lump of coal against the tiger's cheek, hot and hard and smooth in its nylon wrapping. It seemed to grow even hotter as the hold tightened, or maybe that was just Manny's face, his cheeks bright red and getting brighter by the second.

"How's that?" said Darius. "Getting tight, I bet."

Yes, it definitely was. Manny kicked weakly, and even tried to bridge out at one point, but nothing worked. His muscles were starved of oxygen; he needed air like nothing he had ever needed before.

His first tap was too weak and indirect to get Darius's attention; the lizard mistook it for more tentative thrashing and continued throttling him. The feel of jugulars pulsing against his inner thighs aroused Darius, and he shut his eyes and let his head fall back, making masculine versions of noises Manny had heard slip from Beebee's throat a dozen times in the past.

He was really going for it when Manny tapped again, harder and showier this time, making the gesture big enough to draw Darius's attention. And, to his humiliation, the attention of everyone else in the room. His palm gave a solid pectoral three pats - tap, tap, tap - prompting Darius to turn his face downward and open his eyes.

The firefly irises fixed on Manny. They looked pleased with the tiger's submission, even as they pouted and pleaded for the match - and the domination - to continue.

"You sure?" Darius's voice was a whisper, a flirty tease.

Yes, Manny was sure. He told the lizard as much with a final tap, this one firmer than the others. Still, Darius was slow to let him go. The pressure on Manny's neck eased off a little at a time, until finally the soft-scaled thighs opened to set him free.

He lay face up on the mat, panting, his cheeks still rosy. Darius seemed to forget about the others watching. He straddled Manny's waist and palmed two pecs that dwarfed his own, his tail idly tracing spirals on the tiger's lap.

"Go again?"

Manny honestly didn't want to, but there was something irresistible about the eyes smiling down at him. He couldn't say no to them.

His punishment continued. Darius rolled him around the mat like he was nothing more than a practice pad. He suffered through a plethora of different holds, his body literally bending to the rookie's will, the flesh yielding and reshaping to match that of his almost gentle oppressor.

They seemed to fit together. Or, rather, Manny seemed an ideal prisoner for Darius's muscle-and-bone snares: his neck cozy in a reverse scissorhold, his trunk at home in an almost intimate bearhug. The lizard was applying both holds when Manny tapped for him yet again, his legs figure-foured and popping with muscle, arms flexing, glutes pinching together to squash a box-shaped muzzle.

Again the lizard was slow to let go, and again Manny failed to refuse another round. He quickly found himself in a side bodyscissor and then a cradle pin: the latter an addition to the former. Quads like literal scissor blades, albeit blunted ones, simultaneously dug into his belly and spine. At the same time, the cradle pin rounded his back and compressed his body, making it even harder to breathe.

Manny started to tap again, but was cut short by a sudden, "No, wait," from his oppressor.

"Not yet." Darius pressed his brow against Manny's temple. "Don't tap yet. Let me get it... a bit tighter..."

Darius folded Manny until the tiger's knee touched his own forehead. he relaxed his quads, bent his knees. He let Manny pant for a moment, enjoying the feel of the tiger's belly expanding and contracting against his inner thigh.

And then, without warning, he kicked his legs straight, locked out his knees and squeezed anew, his quads clamping around striped flesh with an audible slap.

A moan breached Manny's gritted teeth, the kind of delicate, breathy noise he only felt comfortable making around Beebee. Through no small effort he managed to heed the lizard's request, his paw palming a scaly thigh instead of tapping it. His eyes latched onto the place where vulnerable flesh yielded to taut thigh muscles, and something about the newly carved rut in his own belly held him transfixed.

By now the others had grown bored of the one-sided affair and let their attentions wander elsewhere. Their absence lent a certain intimacy to the encounter down on the mat. His inhibitions eased - somewhat - Manny belted out a louder, bolder moan. He let his body writhe the way it wanted to. He also ran his paw down the length of Darius's leg, making like he wanted to unknot the ankles, when in truth he only desired to caress the smooth scales and the textured muscles.

Darius noticed this change in demeanor. He broke his hold and draped his chest atop Manny's, and then figure-foured both his arms and legs; the former coiling around the tiger's head, the latter engulfing his trunk. His hips slammed down into Manny's belly, and his body arched into a crescent, and all four limbs tensed and wound themselves tighter, tighter, tighter...

Manny bridged instinctively, his own hips pumping skyward as if to meet a lover's downward thrust. His legs splayed wide - a reflex and nothing more, he hoped - and his knees began trembling, each ready to buckle under his oppressor's weight. He held the pose for all of twenty seconds, maybe thirty, maybe forty... until eventually Darius traded his scissorhold for a grapevine pin, his legs snaking around Manny's before going straight and taut.

He drove Manny back to the mat with a triumphant grunt. This time his hips didn't slam into the tiger, but instead eased downward a little at a time, slowly, almost gently. His bulge pushed Manny's navel inward, making the tiger's breath catch.

Darius splayed his prisoner's legs wider. Looking over his shoulder, he smiled at the sight of his own tail tracing little spirals on Manny's lap.

"Look at that," said the lizard. "Now I see why Beebee fell for you: you make for one hot little jobber."

Manny wasn't sure how to respond to that. Blushing, he remained silent.

From there Darius could have easily finished the match with a chokehold, but instead chose to wedge Manny's snout between his pecs. The twin mounds of muscle smothered the tiger's breath. As Manny tried to turn his face away, Darius looped both arms around his head, firmly locking it in place.

Manny's movements became smaller, duller. His hips bucked so weakly that they seemed to roll, and his legs squirmed and wriggled, the sweat-matted fur rubbing sensually against equally sweaty scales. Darius spread him wider to stifle this struggling - stretching Manny, putting pressure on his hip flexors and groin muscles. He also slid his palms across his own forearms and gripped his elbows, so that his limbs drew tighter around his opponent's skull.

Manny shoved at the lizard's triceps, panted and moaned into the valley between his pecks. His own muscles bulged to meet the challenge offered by his oppressor, but Darius drove his weight down like he meant to crush him flat as a sheet of cardboard. He was completely pinned, completely helpless. At the total mercy of a body more powerful than his own.

"Now," Darius whispered. "Go ahead. Tap for me."

Manny wasn't sure why he patted the lizard's right buttock - but was glad their small crowd had dispersed awhile ago.

The tap made Darius's breath catch in his throat. In a blur of movement, he applied a guillotine choke, rolled onto his side and clapped on a ruthless bodyscissor. His body arched and his bulge drove into Manny's gut, his head and shoulders rocking backwards.

Pure ecstasy showed on his scrunched face.

Manny tapped a second time, harder and faster now. Darius refused to let go. Manny curled into a fetal position, trembling and gasping for breath.

"One more," said Darius, almost pleading. Manny complied, and then inhaled loudly when his oppressor finally set him free.

Still not done yet, Darius rolled the beaten wrestler onto his back and straddled his neck. As he curled one bicep in a victory pose, he cupped the back of Manny's skull and hiked it skyward, forcing the tiger to kiss his sweaty, smelly bulge.

It was the only vaguely mean thing he had done all night. But he had earned the right to a victory pose - even one as humiliating as this - so Manny lay still and let him enjoy it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Darius said hurriedly, blushing as he scooted onto Manny's chest. "I couldn't resist. You just looked so exhausted and helpless and cute... It was a spur of the moment thing! Honest! I didn't mean to -"

"It's alright," Manny interrupted gently. "Good match, by the way. You really kicked my ass."

"Roll again sometime?"

"Of course. But definitely not anytime soon."

As it turned out, 'not anytime soon' ended up being very soon indeed, after each had showered in the locker room. As they got dressed, Manny caught a glimpse of Darius in his briefs. His gaze lingered on the lizard's soft-scaled thighs.

He couldn't help but challenge Darius to a rematch. The lizard agreed, and soon Manny was down on his knees and elbows, once again bound by his oppressor's legs.

Riding Manny's back, Darius cinched in a deep figure-four bodylock. It was perhaps the tightest hold of the night. Manny willingly planted his haunches on his calves, and even let Darius palm the back of his head and shove his face into the floor.

"Let me know when it gets too tight."

Manny lifted his head just enough to nod.

Darius nodded back, smiling with his firefly greens. And then he gave his hot little jobber a long, hard squeeze.