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The energetic music with a strong bassline pounded through the bar, setting an upbeat tempo for the leather-clad dancers on the stage. Patrons in their own leather, rubber, neoprene, fishnets, and mesh gyrated and grinded against each other on the wide dance floor bathed in thin layers of blue, green, and red illuminated fog. Hands slipped into pants and under shirts, gripping harnesses and yanking leashes, exploring bodies as tongues searched out new mouths, and hot breath and saliva swapped from person to person--a few cigar-smokers took their turns forcefully shotgunning volunteers who sought them out.

X-crosses, slings, and suspension harnesses lined the walls on both sides of the dance floor, many of them occupied by willing and eager subs--and some not so willing and eager--who waited to be used and abused by whichever patrons happened to be interested in toying with them. Quite a few doms--those who had years of experience and those who were curious enough to try it for the first time that night--were already taking their turns to punish, tease, and pleasure the restrained subs. Some were going all out with whips and paddles to raise shrieks of pain, some simply clamped and pulled hard on exposed nipples or added more weight to ball stretchers and crushers, and others were content to edge their captives or tickle immobile and sensitive armpits, necks, and feet.

Above it all, the bar on the balcony hosted scantily-clad customers at the long, red counter that spanned the width of the building; dancers on the bar provided entertainment, baring as much fur and scales as possible while still wearing their company-branded jockstraps and harnesses for guests to tuck bills into, as the bartenders served drinks and snacks, occasionally cutting off the few patrons who had clearly hit their limit. Other patrons who wanted a more secluded experience sat in the VIP booths enclosed in two-way mirrors that could be activated or deactivated; when the mirrors were active, the walls of the booths reflected the lights that bounced around the bar and prevented prying eyes from spying while the patrons inside could sit comfortably and voyeuristically watch the scene below and scout for potential tail at the bar. With inactive mirrors, the VIP booth occupants were just as exposed as everyone else.

Hightower Bar was doing its standard business for a Saturday night; the place was almost packed to capacity--even in the private darkrooms beyond the stage on the ground floor--and both the bartenders and the dancers were raking in tips, while several groups on the dance floor had already devolved into small orgies. Four mainstage entertainment acts had already wrapped, and the fifth had started just before midnight: A tall and muscular horse, wearing only crotchless and assless leather chaps, a leather vest, and a leather hat, had taken to the stage with his four nude cougar assistants. To the applause and cheering of the crowd, the horse had begun whipping three of the cougars while the fourth serviced him orally, taking him all the way down to the hilt; the lengthy and girthy equine cock made the feline's throat bulge before the rest of it disappeared below his sternum. The group had twenty minutes to perform before the next act, and dollar bills rained onto the stage as the horse vigorously whipped his three fellow performers, raising welts on their asses and backs as they remained crouched on the stage and yowled in agony and rapture.

"Looks like Grant's really laying it on thick tonight," Ray observed from his seat in one of the VIP booths. He sucked his teeth as the horse's whip lashed a cougar's back with a particularly loud crack. "Ooh, that's gonna leave a mark."

The large, built bull wore a pair of tight leather pants and a bulldog-style harness. He settled back further against the padded seat and raised his arm higher for the nameless raccoon at his side to snuffle and lick deeper into his armpit.

"You didn't hear about his son?" Antoine--a thickset alligator sitting opposite of Ray in the booth--asked.

"No, what happened?"

"Grant caught him beating up some other kid at Brennan Park, he was pissed," Antoine replied before he sipped his sour beer. "Probably taking it out on those guys, if I had to guess."

"Damn, makes me glad I don't have to deal with that kind of shit," Ray mused.

"Having a troublemaker kid, you mean?"

Ray nodded. "I like my boys like this one here." He gripped the raccoon by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back from his armpit. The raccoon's tongue hung out as Ray glared into the dazed eyes of his catch for the evening. "Not mine, and he's nice and subservient." The bull grinned as he forced the raccoon's face back under his arm. The raccoon moaned softly and resumed worshiping Ray's pit.

Antoine chuckled. "You've had lots of practice to find the ones like that. I'm still looking for one. At least for tonight."

Ray gestured at the writhing crowd below their booth. "Take your pick, there's plenty out there who'd want to get bent over by you."

The alligator winked. "I might go for something that hasn't been used tonight yet."

"Oh, you want something nice and tight, huh?"

"And maybe a little on the fluffy side," Antoine added, turning his head to look at the bar through the tinted glass wall of the booth. He watched the patrons as he continued, "Something I can break and then cuddle up with after."

"You softie," Ray teased.

"What can I say? Don't get me wrong, I love the boys who can take a lot of punishment, but something soft and squeezable is just icing on the cake, mwah." Antoine mimed a chef's kiss as the bull chuckled.

"Well, what's looking good to you?" Ray asked as he also surveyed the bar. "Maybe something like that?" He pointed at a portly lion who was tucking a crisp bill into a deer entertainer's thong.

"Hmmm, no, not quite my type."

Ray searched further. "How about that one? Hanging out by himself, might be a good sign." He pointed at the squirrel nursing his drink alone towards the end of the bar.

"A little too wiry for me," Antoine noted. He then cocked his head and pointed out another target. "Now that's a possibility. Cute and supple, right amount of fluff, and he looks like he could take it rougher without breaking too much."

Ray followed his friend's finger to see a Border Collie standing amid a cluster of four other patrons. His black fur was speckled with lighter spots of gray, and he wore tight mesh shorts, a green jockstrap with a matching green gladiator harness, and thick wrist cuffs. His tail wagged as he chatted animatedly with the panda, wolf, and two kangaroos at the bar who surrounded him. Ray's eyebrows rose and he unconsciously lowered his arm on the raccoon's face, smothering the boy. "Him?"

"What, you don't think so?"

Ray wagged his head, then took a sip of his lager before he spoke. "Well, looks like he won't be an easy target if he's already got that much attention on him. Plus I'm pretty sure he's just a big tease."

"What makes you say that?" Antoine asked. The alligator considered the canine's outfit for a moment before clarifying, "Apart from the obvious, I mean."

Ray rubbed his chin. "If that's the guy I'm thinking of, I've tried a couple times with him already. Never got to seal the deal, and I've seen him around here a lot just flirting, like what he's doing now. Don't think I've seen him leave with anybody."

"Maybe he thought you were trying to recruit him to Clean Steam," Antoine sniggered. "You show him your business card?"

The bull rolled his eyes. "No, I legitimately thought he'd be a good lay. But if I've gotta try twice with someone, they probably wouldn't be worth the trouble to recruit anyway. Now that I think about it, my friend Lucas mentioned a guy like him being the bar tease here, he's just out to get a bunch of free drinks." Ray paused, then said, "Wait, why don't you just rent out one of our boys? I could get you a discount and you could do anything you want with him, you know how we condition and train them. You could get any type you wanted."

"Dude, I'm an ambush hunter, it's what we do," the alligator laughed. "We don't just wait for someone else to bring our prey to us, we wait for it naturally, then strike when the opportunity's right."

"Uh-huh, and how's that been going for you?"

"Oh, that's low, that hurts, man." Antoine playfully laid a hand on his heart as if he'd been wounded.

"Alright, alright, be that way if you want, but I wouldn't go after that one if I were you," Ray advised before taking another sip of his beer.

Antoine drained his glass. "Well, I need to go for a refill anyway, maybe I'll come back with that cutie's number."

"Best of luck," Ray scoffed. "I still think that squirrel's gonna be an easier meal for you."

Antoine stuck his tongue out as he shifted and stood from his seat. He opened the door to the booth, letting in the full volume of the music and shouting from the bar, before letting it swing shut behind him to muffle the sound outside again. The alligator strode past the velvet rope barriers that separated the rest of the bar from the VIP booths, then began to push through the other patrons to make his way closer to the bar, detouring along the way to get closer to the cluster he had his eye on. By the time he arrived at the counter behind two other people waiting for the bartender, he was just a few feet away from the Border Collie's backside.

"Are you kidding me? I love that show, it's one of my favorites!" the Border Collie was saying over the thumping music; he had placed a hand on the panda's shoulder, while his free hand held a highball glass that was mostly empty except for some ice cubes and crushed mint.

"Well, you could come back to my place and we could watch an episode or two, maybe have some fun while we're at it," the panda replied as he snuck a hand to rest on the canine's waist.

"I'd like that a lot! And all your pals are welcome to join, too--love getting opened up and used like that!" the Border Collie giggled. He then looked behind him to survey the rest of the bar, and briefly caught Antoine's eye before turning back to the panda. "Although I've got a few friends to meet up with while I'm here; find me later?"

"You can count on it," the panda growled, flashing a smile. He squeezed the canine's waist before letting go and joining his friends to head down to the dance floor.

"Thanks again!" The Border Collie raised his glass at the panda--when the bear began to descend the stairs, the dog turned to the bar. He peered down the counter to the left, then to the right, where the fossa in front of Antoine was just ordering his beer.

Antoine took a quick breath, then seized his chance. "Sounds like you've got a fun evening ahead," he said as he leaned toward the Border Collie.

The dog's ears perked at the alligator's voice, and the Border Collie's eyes lit as he addressed Antoine. "Oh, yeah, it should be a good time! Although I might need a lot more fun before tonight's through, I got a big itch to scratch, if you catch my meaning."

Antoine grinned, then sidled up closer to the Border Collie. "Oh, I think I can help with that."

The canine winked at him. "Oh, I think you can, too, big guy. What's your name?"

"Antoine, and yours?"

"Friends call me KC," the Border Collie replied, extending his hand.

Antoine shook the smaller paw in his own much larger grip. "Pleasure to meet you, KC." The fossa in front of Antoine received his beer and stepped away, leaving the alligator and the canine next in line. Antoine nodded at the empty glass in KC's hand. "Can I get you a refill?"

"Oh, yes please!"

Antoine turned to the elephant bartender. "Another Sweet Papa, and..."

"A mojito!" KC supplied.

"On your tab?" the elephant asked Antoine, who nodded.

As the bartender prepared their drinks, Antoine addressed KC again. "So, what brings you here tonight? Just looking for fun?"

KC smiled. "That, and the music, I can't resist a good DJ. They've got Tito Titan coming next Saturday, have you heard any of his stuff?"

"A few songs here and there, I don't really follow him that much," Antoine replied as the elephant placed his beer on the counter and started on the mojito.

"Definitely recommend his latest album, it's pretty much all I listen to when I'm getting railed," KC said. "And I listen to it every day, so..."

"So you can take quite a lot, is what I'm guessing?" Antoine finished.

"More than a lot," KC told him as he trailed a hand below Antoine's stomach and onto the alligator's bulge in his neoprene shorts. He lightly groped the plum-sized balls and semihard cock filling out the black and yellow synthetic rubber. "And it feels like you've got a lot to give. I've got a tight hole with your name on it."

The large alligator leaned down and placed a heavy hand on KC's shoulder, possessively resting his thumb on the base of his neck. "Well, I've been looking for somebody to fill up," Antoine growled in KC's ear; the Border Collie shuddered, and the alligator laughed as he straightened up again. "But if you've got plans for later tonight..."

"Oh, we can go right now...well, after I get my drink, I mean," KC said, nodding at the bartender, who was just about to stir his mojito.

"I think all the darkrooms are booked up, though," Antoine noted.

"There are other rooms here, big guy," KC responded. "How about the bathrooms behind the bar?"

Antoine frowned, considering it. "Well, that could work."

"How about you get yourself a stall and I'll just come in and sit down right on the big gator dick of yours?" KC suggested with a devious smile. "I guarantee I'll ride you so well you'll paint my guts in two minutes, it'll be the best two minutes of your life. Or at least of your night."

Antoine chuckled. "You seem very sure of yourself. And if I'm not satisfied?"

The bartender placed the finished mojito on the counter; KC picked up his glass and clinked it against Antoine's before he took a sip, and then said, "Oh you will be, trust me."

Antoine looked down into the Border Collie's teal eyes--they looked hungry, desperate, and confident.

"Alright, boy, I'll see you and that tight little ass of yours in there," Antoine rumbled. He watched the wide smile grow on KC's face and drained his glass, then continued, "Just give me a few minutes to find a stall for us, and I'll have a seat ready for you." He squeezed KC's shoulder before letting go, and as he stepped past the canine, he swatted the taught ass; KC yipped and jumped, making the full jockstrap under his mesh shorts bounce against his thighs.

Antoine looked at the mirrored glass of the VIP booth where Ray still sat, and he knew that the bull was watching--he stuck his tongue out again on his way to the bathroom, feeling his heart flutter in triumph over Ray's prediction.

When he entered the bathroom, he saw a boar at one of the urinals and heard a rhythmic grunting from the stall in the far right corner; something was also bumping against the steel partition in time with the grunting, and two sets of thick fingers clung to the top of the wall--if he had to guess, someone was aggressively using the glory hole.

Antoine shrugged to himself and went for the empty stall that was second to the left, opting to give the glory hole users just a little bit of extra space. After the alligator locked the door, he flipped the toilet lid down, pulled his shorts to the floor, and sat on top of his throne, stroking his hardening cock and just imagining what it was going to feel like to pull that Border Collie down over his thick meat like a fleshlight, the soft and tight folds of muscle rippling over his sensitive member.

A minute passed. The grunting in the far right stall sped up in tempo, and it was peppered with murmurs of "Yeah, take that fat dick, you little bitch. Fuck, I'm gonna blow..."

And then another minute dragged by. The urinal flushed, footsteps padded across the tile floor, a sink turned on, hands were washed, the sink turned off, and the boar pushed the door open to rejoin the rest of the bar.

Another minute gone. Antoine continued slowly stroking himself, occupying himself as he waited. A bead of pre oozed from his urethra, and he rubbed his thumb in it to spread it around.

Another minute, and the grunting and murmurs turned into full groans of "Oh fuck yeah...oh fuck yeah, swallow it all...get all that cum in your stomach, you fuckin' slut."

Another minute, and Antoine rubbed the sensitive spot below his cockhead, keeping himself erect but not fully jerking off.

Another minute, and he heard coughing and spluttering, then the pattering sound of liquid hitting tile.

"Oh, gross!" another voice coughed.

"Ah, come on man, you'll suck me off but you won't drink my piss?" the first voice complained. He grunted and the sound of urine splattering on the floor ceased for a moment before he began to piss into the toilet. "That's fuckin' messed up."

"Dude, what made you think that was okay?" the second voice quipped.

"Way to pussy out like a bitch."

"Man, fuck you! And drink more water!" A stall door swung open and angry footsteps barged out of the bathroom.

It was silent for another minute, save for the trickle of the first man urinating into the toilet. Antoine heard him finish and zip his pants, then mutter, "Bitches," to himself before he, too, left the bathroom.

Antoine sighed to himself, choosing instead to imagine KC riding him, lifting himself up and bearing back down on his lap to milk a load from his heavy balls and into his guts.

Something buzzed in Antoine's shorts, distracting him from his fantasy--grumbling to himself, he pulled his phone out and saw that he'd received a text from Ray: Your "cutie" just got another drink and is going to the dance floor.

Antoine's stomach dropped in disappointment--he reread the message five times as he felt heat rise in his cheeks and his cock began to soften. He dropped his hand to his lap and hung his head, then shook it to himself as the reality of the bull's text sank in.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

His phone buzzed again and a new message from Ray appeared: Sorry man, it's OK to come out.

Antoine sighed again to collect himself, then rolled his eyes. He stood from the toilet and pulled his shorts up, then unlocked the stall and exited the bathroom. The alligator stared pointedly at the VIP booths as he walked back to the one waiting for him, refusing to look at anything or anyone else, not even as he waved his wristband at the bouncer. The tall rat stood aside to let Antoine pass, and the alligator was soon back in the booth; he slid into his seat opposite Ray, who now had his raccoon under the table, dutifully bathing his balls with his tongue.

The alligator coughed to clear his throat. "Well, that didn't go...as expected."

Ray simply sat there, a wan and sympathetic smile on his face.

Antoine leaned back into his seat. "Alright, you can say 'I told you so.'"

Ray, still smiling, softly huffed through his nose and shook his head. "Nah, I'm just going to say I'm sorry, and that little fucker shouldn't have done that."

Antoine shrugged. "Yeah, well, there are some people who are just...well, what else can you do but move on?"

There was a knock on the door, and Antoine and Ray looked to see one of the servers in front of their booth with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and two glasses in the other. The mouflon opened the door and stepped inside as he said, "I have a bottle of Empire 1919 for Ray?"

"Yep, right here," Ray replied.

"Oh, you didn't," Antoine said in disbelief as the ram placed the bottle and glasses on the table.

"Enjoy, gentlemen," the ram said with a smile before he exited their booth.

"This was supposed to be a fun night, and we can still have some fun," Ray took up as he grabbed the bottle. He opened it and sniffed. "Oh damn, that's good." The bull then poured a measure of the amber whiskey for Antoine, then himself before he replaced the bottle on the table and raised his glass. "And as for your little friend tonight, I think I know what we can do to put him in his place."

Antoine chuckled and raised his own glass to meet Ray's. "You don't have to kidnap and brainwash him."

Ray delicately clinked his glass against Antoine's and then took a sip. He held the whiskey in his mouth for a moment, savoring the taste before he gulped. "Oh, I'm not going to be the one doing it to him. I do know a guy, though..."

---

It had been a week since the tiger received the text from Ray telling him about the target and when he'd be back at Hightower. The feline relaxed on the wide sofa in his deluxe VIP booth, slowly nursing his scotch as he scanned the crowd below that had gathered in front of the stage.

It was the night of Tito Titan's performance; behind the turntables and mixers on the stage, the skinny river otter dressed in a yellow rubber gimp suit spun his records and mixed sampled lyrics and melodies as the audience danced in time with the music and lasers that sliced through the thin fog. Meanwhile, comfortably above it all, the tiger consulted his phone again for the photo from Ray, then compared the image to some of the canines he could pick out of the dancing herd.

"No...no...no...no," Kassam mused to himself as he cycled through the dogs he could see shaking their tails and grinding against their fellow dancers. He sighed and picked up the bottle of scotch from among the eight other bottles of liquor on his table and refilled his glass, then turned his attention to the bar. There were a few wolves and foxes collecting tips as they danced around the poles on the counter, servers ducked in and out of adjoining VIP booths, and separate clusters of people had formed at the counter to line up for the bartenders. Kassam picked through the clusters, trying to find the telltale black and white-patterned fur.

It was just after midnight when he eventually spotted the Border Collie talking with a coati; he was dressed identically to the outfit he wore in the picture from Ray.

"At least he's consistent," Kassam muttered. He watched the Border Collie gesture at his gladiator harness and thrust his chest forward, and the coati wrapped a hand around it and teasingly tugged the Border Collie closer. The canine laughed as he then stepped back and drank from his highball glass before continuing to chat.

Kassam chuffed and set his scotch on the table in front of the sofa, then sent a quick text to Ray: Time to go to work.

The bulky and built tiger put his phone in his pocket and stood from the sofa, then exited his booth to meander towards the bar. Along the way, he could hear his target talking up a storm.

"Don't get me wrong, I love getting chained up and used in a sling, the only reason I'm not in one of them down there tonight is so I can enjoy the show! Otherwise I'd be taking it from, like, twenty guys, no problem," KC was boasting.

"Well, lucky for you, I know twenty guys who'd be happy to take you up on that offer!" the coati replied energetically.

Kassam stepped closer to the bar, positioning himself within what he knew would be earshot for his target.

"I'm ready for it! Got any friends who are horses?"

"A few, yeah, they'd love to get their hands on you."

"Perfect, I can take three at the same time, no sweat," KC told his companion. "Tell them what's up, and how about you just find me after the show?"

"You don't want to trade numbers?" the coati asked--Kassam was now two people away from the bartender.

"I'll be here, I promise! Tell you what, as soon as Tito finishes up, I'll come back to the restrooms up here and hang out in a stall for you. Come on in, grab me, and just drag me back to your place. Plus, if you've got a friend or two to fuck me along the way, bring 'em with you!" KC said. He drained the rest of his glass before continuing, "I'm gonna need a lot of loads in me tonight!"

The coati chuckled as Kassam hovered behind the tegu getting a beer in front of him. "And you're sure you can get opened up that much?"

"Trust me, at this point, you could fit an alligator tail in me and I'd still have room for more," KC snorted.

The coati nodded. "Alright, cutie, then I'll find you in the bathroom after the show."

"See you then!" KC said as the coati began to turn for the stairs leading down to the dance floor. "And thanks for the drink!"

Kassam timed his approach to the bartender with KC's turn towards the counter. "Could I get a bottle of Rushwood delivered to my booth? I'm in the deluxe," Kassam called, showing his wristband to the bartender.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kassam saw KC's ears perk in his direction, and he sensed the canine step towards him.

"You got it, Mr. Barati!" the elephant behind the bar replied.

"Thanks!" Kassam turned and, pretending he wasn't seeing where he was going, collided directly with the Border Collie with enough force to knock the empty highball glass to the floor. "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry man, that was my fault!"

KC spluttered for a second before he caught himself. "Aw come on, I'd just gotten that!"

Kassam grimaced. "I'm really sorry, I didn't see you there! Tell you what, let me get you a new one, we can get it delivered to my booth--if you want to join me there, too? Otherwise we're gonna have to wait in the lines again."

KC looked between the bar, the tiger, and the mirrored glass of the VIP booths. "Well, if you can get me another..."

"Absolutely, I know the owner, all my drinks are free," Kassam explained.

KC's eyes lit up. "Free? And you're in the deluxe booth? Sorry, I overheard."

"Yeah, it's a great setup, you should see it!" Kassam said enthusiastically.

"I've never been in! I'd love to, if you don't mind me joining you!"

"Please do! It's just me and a bunch of drinks, great way to enjoy the show, too," Kassam supplied as he gently placed a hand on the canine's waist. "Shall we?"

"Lead the way!" KC replied.

Kassam subtly steered the more than willing Border Collie towards his booth, where he waved them both past the bouncer and held the glass door open for his guest. KC immediately trotted inside, his eyes wide.

"Wow, this is all for you?" he asked, his eyes on the array of bottles and the tablet that sat on the low table before the sofa.

"And for you, too. Go on, make yourself comfy," Kassam told him--he pulled the door shut behind him as KC plopped down on the couch, his tail wagging.

"I almost don't know where to start," the Border Collie panted.

Kassam chuckled. "Help yourself to anything you like!" He sat down next to KC and picked up the tablet from the table to pull up the bar menu. "And in the meantime, what were you having before?"

"A blueberry mojito royale with Amor Caveira rum," KC rattled off as he poured a shot of tequila for himself.

The tiger chuffed. "Amor Caveira...someone's got good taste." After he submitted the order, he navigated to the bar's app for controlling the VIP booth settings; he deactivated the two-way mirrored walls, allowing an unfiltered view into the booth, and turned up the volume on the speakers that played the mainstage music.

KC bobbed his head in time with the music and perked up at the brighter lights. "Wow, you're right, definitely a great way to enjoy the show," he said. He then knocked back his tequila shot and replaced the glass on the table. "So you got all this because you know the owner?"

Kassam nodded. "Yeah, Kota Izaki--he and I go way back, I helped him scout out a lot of the early talent for this place."

"Really?"

"Yeah; I remember when we landed this amazing bison, everybody started going wild when he brought volunteers onstage to fuck, and then he started using his horns on two guys at once--that was the real crowd-pleaser. Definitely got everyone wanting more, and we knew he could go all night if we didn't have to make room for other acts."

"He's not still here, is he?" KC asked.

"Oh no, he moved out of town a few years ago," Kassam answered. "But Kota's helping him brainstorm on opening a club of his own, see if there's some kind of partnership or franchise they can work on together."

"Would you help him get talent for his bar, too?"

Kassam shook his head. "Oh no, those days are over for me. Now I'm just happy to reap the benefits of that work."

KC nodded. "Getting a ton of free booze and the deluxe VIP booth seems like a pretty good benefit to me!"

"Oh yeah. Although if it wasn't for my regular job, I'd be helping Kota run Hightower," Kassam noted. He shifted on the sofa closer to KC and placed his arm on the back of the couch; the Border Collie took the signal and scooted closer to him, resting against his chest. "But I also don't want to turn something like this into my career, you know? Keep work and fun separate."

"I don't know, if you were helping run this place, would you really want to keep fun and work separate?" KC asked, nodding at the debauchery that was taking place on the dance floor--segments of the crowd in front of the stage had moved on from groping and grinding to raising tails and starting spitroasts while the music thundered over the speakers. "I mean, you could end up saying that your work would be to have fun like that."

Kassam laughed. "Well, I do like to enjoy myself every now and then," he said as he picked up his scotch glass. He took a drink and then continued, "Don't think I could do it every night, though."

"Oh, I definitely could," KC asserted.

"Oh really?"

KC nodded and poured himself another shot of tequila, then knocked it back. "Honestly, it's been tough finding people to keep up with me. I've got a really high libido and big appetite, which makes it hard to get satisfied."

"You might want to be careful saying that in a place like this, I'm sure there's a whole horde of daddies who'd want to test that out in one of the darkrooms. Anything goes in there," Kassam advised.

"Oh, I know, I've been in them many, many times." KC patted the tiger's thigh and winked up at him.

"Oh have you now?" Kassam's eyebrows rose.

Before KC could continue, an ibex knocked on the door and entered the booth, ferrying a tray that held a bottle of clear liquor and a highball glass containing a pink-tinted mojito with mint and blueberries. "Your order, Mr. Barati," the ibex supplied.

"Thanks, just on the table is great," Kassam told him.

The ibex placed the drinks on the table and Kassam reached into his pocket to pull out a folded bill, which he tucked into the pouch of the server's red thong.

"Thanks very much, sir," the ibex said.

"Thank you," Kassam emphasized; he patted the full bulge and the ibex retreated from the booth.

The tiger then turned his attention to the drinks on the table and picked up the mojito. "Your beverage," he chuffed, handing the glass to KC.

"Thanks a ton!" KC said. He took a sip and closed his eyes. "Oh, that's exactly what I needed." He then nodded at the bottle that the ibex had brought. "What else did you get?"

Kassam swirled the scotch in his glass. "That, my friend, is Rushwood, and it's the very best moonshine you'll get this side of the Alissi River."

KC's eyes widened. "Ooh, now that's dangerous."

Kassam smiled and drained his scotch. "But oh, so good. Finish up your drink and we can have some together."

"Yessir!" KC dutifully gulped down another mouthful of his mojito.

"So, you said you'd been in the darkrooms here?" Kassam asked, returning to their previous conversational thread.

"Oh yeah, at one point I think I had a line of six guys waiting for me," KC replied. "They did some good work on me, I tell you what."

"I'm all ears, boy," Kassam said; his hand lazily dropped from the back of the couch to KC's shoulder, and he trailed a finger along the Border Collie's neck. The canine shuddered before taking another drink.

"Well, I had three bulls fisting me all at once, they really pulled a good prolapse out of me, I was pretty much screaming for them to just drag my insides out," KC supplied. "And then..."

The Border Collie prattled on like that for a good fifteen minutes, drinking his mojito as he bragged in graphic detail about the lewd acts he'd participated in, from getting drenched in piss and sounded to getting whipped, tickled, hot wax dripped on his balls, and almost everything in between. By the time he'd finished his drink, he was comfortably nestled up against Kassam while the tiger had been examining the Border Collie, absently stroking his fur as he listened to his target's boasts.

"Sounds like you've really done it all," Kassam said when KC had finished. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you worked here."

KC chuckled. "I should've met you when you were scouting out talent for this place, I would've loved to be a dancer here."

Kassam's stomach rumbled against KC's ear as he chuckled. "Could've fooled me, puppy. With the way that everyone's been eyeballing you in this booth, I would've thought you were a dancer on a break or something."

KC perked up. "They have?"

"Oh yeah, see for yourself," the tiger said; he motioned at the glass walls where curious passersby had been peering in at them. KC craned his neck to see that, indeed, quite a few had outright stopped in their tracks to stare at the Border Collie.

"They can see us?" KC asked.

"Oh yeah, I turned off the mirrors outside," Kassam said. "I'm a little more of an exhibitionist myself, don't need as much privacy. And, if I'm not mistaken," the tiger started, and he reached a hand below KC's waist to feel a firm bulge forming in his jockstrap. "I think you like having a few admirers," he continued as he squeezed the Border Collie's junk.

KC smirked to himself and crawled forward to settle into Kassam's lap, his leg brushing against the tiger's groin. "Well, it's not surprising; at this point, I'm pretty sure I've fooled around with at least half the guys in this place."

"Well, I'd love to get added to that list," Kassam chuffed.

"That would be a lot of fun, as long as you can keep up with me," KC chuckled.

"In that case, why don't we kick off with a little more...social lube?" Kassam asked--he shifted in his seat, causing KC to sit up, and the tiger reached for the bottle of Rushwood. He lightly shook the bottle of clear moonshine at the dog. "Get us loosened up a little more?"

KC panted excitedly. "Yeah, let's do it!"

Kassam poured a shot of the liquor for himself and another for KC; they clinked their glasses together and knocked them back at the same time.

"Oh, that's smooth," KC mused after swallowing his shot.

"I think you could use another, just for good measure," Kassam said as he poured a second shot for KC. "It's not often they have a bottle here, Rushwood makes really small batches."

"Do you know how much it costs?" KC asked before raising the glass to his lips and drinking.

"I'll just say that it's more than you'd want to know," Kassam sniggered.

KC sighed after his shot. "Well, might as well enjoy it while it's here," he said, and held out his glass.

"Another?"

"Another."

The two of them continued drinking and talking for another hour and a half, with KC consuming another four shots of moonshine, three glasses of whiskey, and five more shots of tequila; the canine didn't even notice that Kassam was pacing himself with just one more shot of moonshine and a single glass of scotch. For KC, the night was passing by in a haze of music, slurred conversation about his sexual prowess, erections straining against his jockstrap, and sloppy attempts at making out with the much larger tiger that seemed to captivate him completely.

By the time two in the morning came, last calls were going out across the bar and Tito Titan had finished his last set. Soft music began to play in the booth to signal that the night was coming to an end.

"Ooh, I do'n wanna be ooooveeer," KC groaned, his head resting comfortably in the tiger's lap.

"It doesn't have to be if you don't want it to," Kassam mused, rubbing the side of KC's face.

KC leaned his head into Kassam's palm and mindlessly licked his fingers with his wide tongue. Kassam playfully grabbed the Border Collie's tongue and rolled it between his fingers; the canine giggled and panted as the tiger rolled his tongue back into his mouth, then inserted a digit after it. KC lightly nibbled and sucked on Kassam's finger before the tiger pulled it out again.

"Aw, you're just a sweet lil' puppy, aren't you?" Kassam crooned, moving his hand down to pet KC's exposed stomach.

"Uh-huh, tha's me," KC replied sleepily. "Jus' a happy-hap--" he yawned "--lil' pupper..."

"Yes you are," the tiger chuffed. "What do I need to do to bring you home with me, pup?"

KC stretched and yawned again, then grunted, "More moo'shine!"

Kassam grinned. "More moonshine! I think we can make that happen. Let's see here..."

The tiger leaned forward over KC to pick up the mostly empty bottle of Rushwood. He swirled the remaining dregs around and held the bottle over KC's face. "Open up, puppy."

KC obediently opened his muzzle and Kassam held the mouth of the bottle to the canine's lips, then tilted the last of the moonshine into the waiting jaws. KC gulped and gulped and gulped--at this point it was like drinking water for him--until the bottle was completely empty. Kassam removed the bottle and shook it again, emphasizing that there was nothing left. "Oh, look at that, no more moonshine! What a good boy!"

"Jus' a goo' boy for you, sir," KC giggled as he licked his lips.

"Yes, you are." Kassam leaned down and rubbed his nose against KC's. "And now I think it's time I take you home to show me what a real good boy you are."

"Yessir! Y-you...you migh' needa...uhm, carry me," KC slurred as he struggled to get up. "I wanna go your house toniiiiiigh'...and, and, and ya gotta keep up wi' me, though. Have you creamin' me in seconds..."

"Oh, don't you worry, I'll get you to my house," Kassam assured the Border Collie as he supported him to his feet. "Here, can you stand?"

Kassam briefly let go of KC, who began to wobble and stumble, but the tiger quickly caught him. "Okay, that's a no. Well, get ready, puppy..."

Before KC could protest, the Kassam hoisted the Border Collie over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and began walking out of the booth as if the dog didn't weigh a thing. "Ooh, I like this ride...where we goin', 'gain?"

"To my house, remember?" Kassam told him as he walked past the bar; the tiger nodded at the elephant bartender, who escorted them to the backdoor that led to the fire escape. "You wanted to come to my house to show me how much you can take, right?"

"Yeah...those pussies out there got--" KC burped and groaned "--they got nothin' on me...I wanna go home wi' you...got an hour free to take care a you...bes' hour a your life."

"Yes, I'm sure it will be," Kassam said sardonically, winking at the elephant as the bartender held the door open for him. The tiger stepped out onto the fire escape and slowly began to descend to the alley where his Infiniti Q50 was parked next to the Bentley that belonged to Kota Izaki.

"Mmf, s'chilly out here," KC murmured, rubbing his hands across Kassam's back. "Got a big...warmie like you to...work me oooooveeeeer."

When Kassam reached the alley, he fished around in his pocket for his keys with his free hand--he pulled them out and unlocked his car, where he then deposited KC in the passenger seat. "Hey--hey, KC," he said, softly patting the dog's face to wake him up again. "I've got a bucket here if you feel like puking, alright?" He motioned to the small bucket he'd placed in the footwell earlier that evening. "And water..." he reached into the back pocket of the passenger seat to pull out a large water bottle, which he unscrewed and pushed into the Border Collie's hands. "Drink up, we got a long night ahead of us."

"Aye, aye, cap'n," KC muttered before he took a sip of water.

The ride back to Kassam's house was largely uneventful--the tiger played another of Tito Titan's albums for KC, who stuck his head out of the window and sang along to the lyrics he could make out from the heavy beat. Meanwhile, Kassam kept one hand on the wheel and another firmly lodged in the seat of KC's mesh shorts, roughly fingering him. The Border Collie bucked his hips up and down, riding Kassam's finger as best he could, although the puckered hole around the tiger's digit felt almost too tight to do anything but spasm against his finger pad.

By the time they arrived, KC was only moderately more lucid, swinging from boasts about how much he could drink to growing exaggerations about how much dick he could take. Kassam hurriedly carried him from the car to the kitchen, where he supplied another large glass of water for the Border Collie.

"This'a nice place ya got here," KC mused between sips of water. He looked around the tiger's kitchen, which was outfitted with stainless steel appliances, marble countertops, and paintings of tropical fish.

"Feels nice and homey to me," Kassam noted. "How're you feeling?"

KC nodded, then drained the rest of his water and set the glass on the counter. "Ready for action, daddy," he responded happily.

Kassam grinned. "That's what I like to hear. Come with me, puppy."

With Kassam's guiding hands on his shoulder and waist, KC allowed the tiger to steer him through the kitchen to a door that led to a flight of stairs, which descended to a well-lit basement. KC took the stairs slowly, holding onto the handrail as he went down, and soon he and Kassam stepped onto the basement landing. To the right sat a laundry station with a washer, dryer, and table, while to the left was a closed, black door. Kassam pushed KC to stand before the door.

"Just a moment," Kassam said as he pulled out his phone. He reached past his guest and held his phone against the magnetic reader above the doorknob. With a click, the door unlocked, and Kassam forced KC across the threshold and into the white room beyond.

"Whoa, this...this all yours?" KC asked as he walked further in, his eyes wide with wonder.

"All mine," Kassam rumbled softly.

"Wow, s'like a candy store..."

The majority of the basement had been converted into an almost laboratory-style dungeon, with clean, white walls and rubberized flooring. Drains dotted the floor every few feet, there was an enormous steel work table by one of the walls, another wall held a large television and media center with an easy chair and side table in front of it, and brackets and hooks were mounted at different heights along all four walls and the ceiling. KC could also see a corner containing a sex sling, fuck benches, and a display cabinet full of toys ranging from dildos to paddles to whips to medical instruments to objects he couldn't even recognize. And in another section stood a cluster of eight tall, wide cylinders--KC had no clue what they would've been used for, but they certainly helped create an industrial atmosphere in the room.

"This your dungeon or lab or somethin'?"

"Just my little playspace," Kassam answered as he shut the door behind them. "I like to bring my toys in here for a lot of fun."

KC turned to look at Kassam, and he saw that the tiger's expression had changed--there was a darker glint in the tiger's eyes than he'd seen before, and it was clear to see in the bright lights of the dungeon. He looked so much more primal, predatory...ravenous.

KC stayed rooted to his spot as Kassam stepped towards his media center and placed his phone on the side table next to the easy chair before the tiger tugged off his shirt and kicked his pants off, revealing a tight pair of black boxer briefs that snuggly held his package.

"Although most of them were--and are--very good boys," Kassam continued. "But you..."

Kassam's tail twitched as he hooked his thumbs into his waistband and pulled down, exposing his hardening, barbed cock that had a subincision and showing off his balls, complete with three gold hafada piercings to form a scrotal ladder. The tiger stepped out of his boxer briefs and growled, "I've heard bad things about you."

KC stared, both aroused by the sight before him and stunned by what he was hearing.

"And bad dogs like you need to be trained."