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From the Desk of Mordecai Crossbell - American Division (part 3)

I am not a man who is quick to anger. Anger, as I have demonstrated, is the enemy of the controlled and the correct -- the kind of emotion that makes an otherwise rational man do irrational things. I have prided myself on being able to control my anger for most of my life; I experience it but rarely do I show, or worse, act upon it.

However, that damned black fox had made me lose my composure. The lookalike -- whom I shall call the Pretender -- and his kin the Alternate, they had surprised me. The Pretender was skilled, more so than I expected, and the white one was deadly accurate with his gun. Losing my cane had surprised me, as well as the rip in my costume and the cut on my shoulder. Superficial at best, but they had made me bleed. What was equally impressive was that they had escaped me, though I am all but certain the black fox will be dead, for I have wounded him grievously.

The way they talked about you, Simon, knowing you and pretending to be you, is an insult I cannot abide. There is you and only you; you are alive and beautiful. These two... they are poor imitations of what you are, and they know you. They actually know you! I cannot deny my jealousy toward their familiarity with you, for we have only spoken a few words together, you and I, but I know your feelings for me as confused by what I am -- you and I are destined to be together, and I will make it happen.

Your friends, these forgeries, have given me a thread to follow back to you. However, going now would be a foolish endeavour. If the black fox is still alive, he is dangerously wounded, and if he is with the gangs in that area, as I suspect, he will be well-protected.

I am good but I am no fool -- one man cannot best a horde of decently competent opponents by himself. Not without tricks and firearms. Dare I actually start to use a gun? It feels so impersonal.

No, the times are changing. I will at least start to carry one, if at least to have the option should a problem come around. Yes, I will have to get a good firearm. And a new cane.

When I was able to think clearer back at my penthouse, I realised I had more threads to follow that did not take me directly to you, Simon. I could take one of the others to an indirect path that would help solidify my power here in New York City.

I went to bed as the sun rose, but not before fucking the ever-living life out of my Warrior. I imagined he was you, and it was glorious. I fell asleep content and excited to see you again. You were so close now. How have you aged? You must be gorgeous. I cannot wait to kiss your lips and watch blood trickle from them. You will be my king, Simon.

But first I had threads to follow. Threads that would require subterfuge and observation rather than fear and violence. Tonight, Jack would stay in the closet. Tonight, I will don a new costume. Tonight was all about information.

I grinned in anticipation. I hadn't felt so thrilled in years. When I stood and entered my wardrobe, I had to adjust my pants. Being erect all the time was thrilling. I cannot wait to share it with you.

---

My previous night's mission had been a success, I had found the spy in my midst and ended their pitiful existence, if one could even call it that. My hunch had also been correct -- the tiger gang was moving against Crossbell Industries for some reason.

I dare not wonder if Simon had managed to talk so many people into helping him. The boy--really a man now--is handsome to a fault and can get whatever he wants, I am sure, but even his powers must have limits. No, there is something deeper going on here that I will uncover.

I had found that the tiger gang, at least some of its lower- to mid-ranked fellows, congregated in a bar called Patterson's. It was not what I would call a classy establishment, certainly not one that I would ever venture into given an option, but things are moving faster than I had anticipated and I need more information.

I must admit, I had never worn such a disguise before, but I had hired a makeup artist from uptown who did everyone's fur. I had asked her, a frilly wolfess, to make me look like a lynx. It had not been a hard project, especially since I had asked to not be permanent, and soon I looked more defined by my fur than I ever had in my life. While I lacked the cheek ruffs of most lynx I could pass for a skinny one, especially if I wore a scarf. The tufts on my ears were slicked back with wax and I had changed into clothing more suitable for a trash heap than my body, but if I had strolled in dressed as I was it would have drawn the wrong kind of attention. No, I needed to blend in for the moment.

An hour later, as I stood in front of the mirror, I saw in my reflection a lynx by the name of Hal Blathers, a forge worker in the factories. A man without much going on and feeling like he could use some extra money, Hal would approach the tiger gang for a job. After all, the tigers were notorious for always hiring other felines.

Patterson's was exactly how I had imagined it. An old building that had seen better days and far more paint. The floor was uneven and its wood bare, with the walls not much better but at least had some rather tacky artwork hanging from it. Someone was playing a piano in the corner and a bar, a very long bar, had two tigers working behind it. I gritted my teeth and approached the bar.

"Beer," I said with a gruff and put some money on the bartop. The tiger gave me a once over but poured me a glass. I picked it up and took a long drink.

Foul! It was an insult to my tongue and my good taste, but Hal liked it and even smiled when he licked the foam from his lips. Content with his pint of beer now. I managed to peer around the bar and tried to see anyone who I could use.

Oddly enough, fate seemed to be on my side once more. In the back, in a booth of all places, was a familiar face. The brother of that tiger... What was his name? Quintin? Yes, the big tiger who was the gang leader. I did not get the man's name, or remember it, but I saw the resemblance in their faces, so I knew that they were related by blood. The younger brother was scowling into his beer and sat alone, an air of darkness so dense around him that no one dared to sit with him.

Hal was not afraid to go and introduce himself.

I slid into the booth across from this dower looking tiger and finally took a good look at him. He was handsome, as far as tigers went, but he looked rough around the edges, like he had been pushed out of a woodworker's shop before the varnish had been applied. He looked like he was missing something about himself, something to make him feel complete, or something to make him feel validated. He looked at me with those piercing orange eyes of his, and I had a momentary memory of James.

"Get lost," he said through a barely open muzzle.

"Looked like a good seat," I said to him, taking a sip of my beer.

"Plenty of good seats over there. Or there. Hell, sit on the floor for all I care, just don't sit with me," he growled under his breath. He had his shoulders pushed back and he was holding his breath. He was used to looking big and tough.

"Jeez-us!" I said through a mock display of poor control of the English language. "Sorry, wood stools hurt my back. Got injured a few years ago hauling a cargo that was a tad too big for me. Booth's about all I can really sit in without a sharp pain going up my spine." I said these lines calmly, then took another drink of my beer and held my hand out. "I'm Hal. How 'bout the next round is on me for the trouble?"

I watched the man's eyes flick down to my hand, then my face and a scowl formed across it. He was not in the mood, but free alcohol was offered. What man turned down a free drink?

"Fine," he said, putting his empty mug down on the table and taking my hand. He made a show of squeezing it tightly. I made a show of acting like it hurt.

"Ah!" I winced and pulled the hand back, shaking it out and examining the claws like I was afraid I'd lost one. "What the hell, you squeeze pipes shut with your bare hands or somethin'?"

"Heh," the tiger laughed. There. There was my in. Flattery and acknowledgment. That was what this man wanted. He wanted to be seen. He wanted people to know he was capable. He wanted to feel as though he was in charge. I had to resist the urge to smile. "That's funny." He got up and was gone for a few minutes. When he came back to the bar with two new mugs, he slid into the booth. "I opened a tab in your name."

I had spilt my first beer onto the floor under the booth while he'd been gone, and took the newly offered one and grinned, lifting it up into the air in a toast. "So you gonna tell me your name, friend?"

"Bryon," the tiger said and licked the white foam off his whiskers. "One of the Ironworks Brothers," he added with a hint of pride. I remembered now. The silly gang leader called himself 'Tin' and so his family had different names of metal.

"I've heard of Tin... If you're his brother, and your name is Bryon, do I call you 'Iron'?"

The pleased grin that crossed his face told me I was in. "Hell yeah you do. Most people don't catch on. They think I don't have a metal name like Tin. Assholes."

"Sounds like you came out on top with the better nickname," I said with a smile and sipped my beer while Iron drank heavily.

It did not take much for Iron to open up to me. The man seemed so worried about something, and so relieved to find a stranger to whom he could direct his irritations regarding the matter without shame or repercussion, that he practically exploded less than an hour into our drinking. He had gotten drinks and was now sitting next to me, one of his arms over my shoulders.

"You can keep a secret, yeah?" he said through a half drunk haze. He leaned in and whispered into my ear. "Tin is on his way out. He's gonna be gone soon, and guess who takes his place? Me."

There was no love lost between the three brothers, I learnt. They bickered and hated one another, or at least Iron hated his brothers. One was a detective in the NYPD and the other ran a gang. Compared to them, what was little Iron to do with his life? Be a lackey to Tin? He was not happy with that idea. He wanted more. I had to admit, it was nice to speak to someone with ambition. He was risking a lot going against his brother, but then such things happened often enough since the dawn of civilization.

"I have... a proposition for you, Iron," I said calmly, not looking up from my glass and flicking my tail lazily against his hip. I looked around to make sure that no one could overhear what I was about to tell the tiger. "A business proposition."

"Huh?" came the response. Drunk, or near it enough, that this was going to be cumbersome. I sighed a little bit and turned my head to look at him squarely in the eyes.

"I know your brother is working against me. If I were to... finance your operation and provide resources for your take over of the gang, would you be inclined to provide my territory with protection and assistance? I assure you, I am a generous patron. I only insist that work gets done, Iron."

I could tell the tiger was confused. I went on.

"I am Mordecai Crossbell, of Crossbell Industries," I said with a purr under my breath and stopped there. I watched in amusement as those words sank into the drunken tiger's mind and his expression changed from that of confusion to surprise, then -- to my delight -- to fear.

I continued: "I know your brother has been working with the fox gang... the Black Sock Gang? They want to bring me down. Whether or not assassination is a possibility I am not sure. I caught one of your agents ferrying information to them. They worked as a cleaning crew in my building."

Silence.

Hiding my irritation, I said, "Now, I was left with a few options. One was to try and persuade your brother to work for me. I gathered that it would be difficult as he has this stubborn sense of honour and commitment. He would honour his original deals and that would be it.

"The other was to turn him in to the police and let the gang explode in a power vacuum. This idea was tempting, but I do not like bringing chaos into my life needlessly.

"And finally, there was you. The brother who could be so much. You are a man with pragmatic ideals and ambition, qualities which I like in my employees."

"W... What do I gotta do?" Iron said. Fear permeated throughout his face. Good.

"Beyond pledging loyalty to me? Bring your brother to a secret location of mine. You will go back to your brother and tell them you met me, and that I had tried to persuade you to start a coup in your gang. You decided to play along. Your brother will be thrilled. He'll tell you to keep up with it and you'll reveal that I told you about a secret home of mine across town. Talk it up like it is dangerous, and make Tin bring his best men. He trusts you enough -- you are his brother, after all -- to do it without questioning."

"T... Then what?"

"Then, my dear tiger, my trap swings shut and your brother is no longer your concern. His life for your gang is the payment I require. He has information I need and I do not like people plotting against me, especially behind my back. I will have to resort to some... 'uncomfortable' methods."

Iron gulped and tried to drink from his empty beer glass.

"You just need to bring him to me. You need not do anything else. Do you agree to my terms? In exchange, you will have money and weapons, not to mention a whole gang of your own when your brother is out of the picture. You will be my enforcer in this city, and I will treat you well, my dear tiger."

The tiger's face told me more than he could with words. He loved my idea. Not only would it solve all his problems, but having me as his support would make him by far the most powerful man among all the gangs in the area. My fruit of temptation that I dangled in front of him was just an arm's reach away, and there was no way this man could resist it.

"Just one thing, Iron." With a grin, I leant my head closer to his ear as I whispered: "If you double cross me, you will find out just how scary I can be."

---

The plan was so simple. Bring Quintin to my "secret house" on one of the many islands in the river. It looked the part, somewhere out of the way and rundown. Truth be told, it was actually one of my hideaways within the city, but I had little need of it since Crossbell Tower had finished construction -- and I had not been out hunting in a while. I had, a year or so ago, used it as an apartment and a workshop, so when I arrived to get things set up for my guests, I had only a little work to do. My Warrior had been by, dusted and straightened up. He really was becoming irreplaceable. He had requested to be present, and I allowed it, as long as he stayed in the shadows for the time being.

The lure of this house was that it was where I planned some of my more devious plots. That I had told Iron to come here if he wanted to betray his brother and his gang. I knew the elder brother would not be able to pass this up, especially if he was looking for me. So I waited.

I had thought about changing into my Jack/Vampire costume, but it was still being mended, and I felt like it would not be necessary right now. Instead, I would rather show off a bit, and so I went into a closet and found something I hadn't worn in years.

Did you know that cats were once worshipped as Gods in Egypt, Simon? It's true, the Pharaohs of old were all beautiful and pristine cats, decorated in gold and jewels. They were not terribly common in the Nile, and so to harm one was to bring about instant death upon you. Over time, their numbers dwindled and the royal families changed, but it was always a cat. It stayed that way until Egypt collapsed -- but the idea of being a living God had always appealed to me, and thus I figured I would have something to make me look the part.

Vanity is something I would normally ignore, but being better than most, I should also look the part. Gone was my green suit and tophat, tucked away in a closet in the bedroom. Today, it would be minimal, to show off the body that I had been born with and honed like marble from the quarry. A padded and gold-plated loincloth was fixed around my waist, with precious jewels adorning the belt including an impressive emerald set into the front over my groyne. The fabric that was supposed to provide me modesty was sheer silk, transparent under the right light and as light as a feather.

I had also slipped on gold bangles encrusted with various stones, as well as anklets to match. A single bang of gold and jewels was around my left bicep, and around my neck was a choker of two cats roaring with a diamond in the middle of it. Earrings of jewels decorated my head, as well as a gold band around the midpoint of my tail. I looked the part of the God I knew I was, and so I waited for my prey to come wandering into my spider's web.

When Iron, Tin, and their bodyguards finally arrived, things moved very quickly.

The antechamber from the front door to my "lair," as I assume you would call it, was sealed, and a gas which would render anyone who breathed it unconscious was pumped into it via a network of pipes installed into the walls. I had instructed Iron to hold his breath when he heard the hissing. It would take no longer than a minute to fully incapacitate any full-grown man.

After the minute has passed, a steam-powered fan located on the ceiling of the antechamber would be activated, pushing the gas downward, after which the gas would escape from the antechamber through small openings formed between the walls and the floor.

Upon confirming that the gas was gone from the room, I opened the door to see four tigers -- Tin and three of his bodyguards -- asleep and slumped to the floor. Iron stopped holding his breath and began hastily taking in air as he looked at me, undoubtedly shocked from seeing the other tigers suddenly collapse in front of him.

"The hell is this...?" he stammered, baffled.

"You will be wise to remember your place and speech in my presence, Usurper," said I with a glare, "for I am not playing the role of Hal, and you will find my patience for others is quite limited. Bring your brother inside."

Iron seethed, and I could tell he wanted to say something, but he quickly dragged his big brother out. The front door opened and my Warrior stepped in, holding a long dagger and with his suit flecked with blood.

"All the guards outside are dead," he said. The man went about crouching and slitting the throats of the sleeping tigers on the floor. It was so smooth and casual I had to grin. There was once a time when he balked at murder. Now it was as easy as putting on a pair of trousers for him.

"Put your brother on the table," I said, motioning to the large table that had been in the centre of the room. Plush furniture had been pushed back, and manacles were brought out from under it. When the tiger was hefted onto the table, I locked the cuffs on the sleeping cat's wrists, then his ankles. I saw my Warrior was doing his work of making the room more comfortable.

"What's he doing?" I heard the Usurper say as he watched Gideon move in the shadows.

"He is stripping the guards naked, taking anything of value, and displaying their corpses from the hooks hanging from the ceiling," I explained casually as I looked the unconscious older brother over, humming to myself. "Your brother will want to know where his men are. I intend to let him see."

"And... What're you going to do to Tin?" the younger tiger asked me. I growled and turned, but quickly smiled.

"He is going to be my plaything. I won't kill him just yet, but if you like, you can join us. I will admit, I have never had two brothers at once."

"Ugh," Iron said, shaking his head at me and holding up his hands. "Fuck that. This is so much more than I had bargained for... Besides, I'm not a homosexual, and I don --"

"Then!" I interrupted with a firm snap to my voice. "I suggest you stop bothering me and leave. Now! Pull your men out of areas that may be aiding the Black Sock Gang and deploy them in my areas of control. Do not tell anyone what you saw today, or where this place is. If you do, you will die, simple as that." I stopped to take a look at the younger tiger's body again, licking my lips as I did so. "But not before I am done having my fun with your body. Do not tempt fate and do not test me. If you understand, leave. If you wish to join the tigers on the ends of these hooks, linger."

I watched Iron's face contort in disgust, then the young tiger looked around the room worriedly and shrugged his shoulders. "Have your fun, I don't care." And he left, but not before pausing and looking back at me and his brother briefly before closing the door behind him.

"He may be a problem," my Warrior said as he came out and cleaned off the dagger he had used. He put it down on a tray near the side of the room and looked at me. "Should I handle him, Master?"

"No, not yet." I looked over the tiger strapped down to my table. "He has his uses, but if he shows any kind of duplicity, you have my permission to end him. Let us see what he does and find out how strong his will may be. I want to see if he follows orders well, now that he has his prize."

I smiled as I gently touched the fur on Iron's body.

"In the meantime, let us wait for our new guest to wake up."

---

Waiting is something I do not enjoy but have come to understand its existence in life. Waiting and watching are how I have been able to survive as long as I have -- sometimes looking like you are doing nothing at all is needed. In the time that the Brute slept on my table, I had gone around with my Warrior and checked on my new decorations. Surprisingly, some of the tigers had actually only been wounded and were still alive. When asked, the wolf had informed me that he thought I may want two or three around for fun before I executed them.

Oh Simon, your former lover and friend is a delight.

The three living tigers were bound and gagged. They had been stripped of their clothing and their personal effects stored away for me to examine later if necessary.

There was a sound of someone on the table making a soft noise, a groan, and I saw that Tin was waking from his slumber. I stepped over to the table and looked down at him, grabbing him by the muzzle and turning the tired-looking tiger's face toward me.

"Are you lucid?" I asked him, slapping him on the cheek firmly. "Focus, Quintin."

"Ugh," the Brute said, shaking his head and hissing at the slap. "The hell... my head is spinning."

"That is to be expected; the chemical agent you were hit with is experimental but it got the job done. You should feel more like your usual self in a few minutes."

"Mordecai," the tiger said, his growl deepening in his throat and he looked around the room. I watched his arms and legs flex as he tested his bindings. They rattled but did not break. "Where is my brother?"

"The Usurper?" I said, as if I wasn't sure. I walked around to the other side of the table to the metal tray. I picked up a syringe and stepped back toward the tiger. "He is gone, I assume to your headquarters to solidify his claim on your position."

"What... are you talking about?"

"He betrayed you," I said boredly, shaking my head while making a tisk sound. "You should pay more attention to those under your command. You didn't see his desire for power, and the moment I dangled the option in front of him, he took it eagerly."

I plunged the syringe into the Brute's arm and depressed the plunger. When the chemical was injected, I pulled it out and set it aside, looking down at him. "Your men are... mostly dead."

The Brute swallowed, looking around the room. I had lit the candles in the room, each one casting light on a hanging tiger, three alive and the rest dead. Those who were still alive were suspended from meathooks via ropes instead of their bodies. I walked over to one of the hanging tigers, bound and gagged, and staring down at me with wide eyes. I turned to the Brute.

"These men trusted you with their lives. Do you have any idea what you've done to them? You, a brat from the streets, who thought he could be king of his own little territory." A flick of a thin blade I had been hiding in my hand and the throat of the tiger I was standing in exploded open, droplets of warm blood falling onto my mostly naked body. I watched him bleed out, twitching and gurgling in pain during the process, as I stepped over to the next one.

"I am their leader," the Brute protested. He was trying to sit up. He was furious, his teeth bared. "Stop it! You clearly got what you want."

"I have heard things about you," I said, stopping in front of the next hanging tiger, who looked terrified. "My reports say you are a family man, a man who focuses on everyone under you. You put the group before the individual. It is a good trait to have, but when you fail so remarkably, the price you pay..."

Another flick. The throat exploded open, more droplets of blood falling onto me. I turned to look at the Brute, grinning.

"If you had been half as smart as you are strong, you'd have known that this could have easily been a trap. Had you done your research, you'd have known that I am a chemist and an inventor, that I would find ways to deal with intruders in horrible ways. Had you been able to piece together even a fraction of information available to you, you would not have stepped through that door when you saw the second. You failed these men. You who claim to be their leader!" I growled in anger and threw the blade I had been holding. I watched as it turned head over heel and impacted the last living guard right in his throat. The choking, gurgling sound as he took his last feeble breaths was the only sound in the room.

The Brute looked pained. He was staring and breathing harder at the man who was dying in front of him. I could see how much this hurt him, and when he looked at me, I saw only rage on his face. I stepped over, quickly, and grabbed the sides of his head with both my hands, claws out.

"Anger, my dear Brute? Why? You made this mistake. You are the reason all these men now decorate my walls and will be our audience. _You_are the cause of this loss of life and _you_will be the one who pays for it in the end. Yet like the weak, feeble man you are, you continue to shift the blame to me, your better, your superior, the perfection you would be thankful to come close to emulating. You do not know how to take responsibility for your own actions. You disgust me. You have no name, no title. You are simply the Brute."

I pulled from the table behind me another blade. I slipped it into the suspender straps and cut them off the tiger with ease. I grabbed him firmly by his collar and dragged the blade down through his shirt and over the seams of his sleeves. I ripped off the shirt with disgust, leaving his chest bare. I admired his naked torso and breathed heavily. I was erect, throbbing. I reached down to brush the sheer fabric aside. It would only get in the way now.

"You are nothing. You, who are lost in this world and completely unknown to its treasures and pleasures, are given purpose on my table. I will grant you the ultimate honour of being my subject, and I will show you the extremes of emotions before you die in my presence. Should you be so lucky you may part this world knowing you were given something few have in this world -- a reason to exist."

I slammed the blade into his waistband, cutting his skin, and cut down his trousers. I peeled them off and threw them with the rags of the rest of his rags to the floor, breathing heavier as I looked him over.

He was strong, handsome. He would be a wonderful test subject, as well as a plaything. He was stronger than my departed James. I was glad my idea for what to do with the Brute would not be wasted.

"You're sick!" the Brute shouted. I reached out and grabbed him by his muzzle, squeezing hard on the sides and prying his mouth open. With my other hand I reached in and grabbed his tongue, pulling it out firmly. I heard him gag as he tried to pull it back. He dare not try to close his muzzle now. He would sever his tongue.

I squeezed the tongue between thumb and forefinger, claw coming out from both digits and piercings the flesh. He screamed as my claws touched. Blood poured down his tongue as I pulled my fingers back.

"I will put a weighted piercing in your tongue for every time you call me a name. You do not have that RIGHT!" I screamed it in his face, letting his muzzle go to let the blood pool down his throat.

I went over to the tray and grabbed and grabbed some callipers, again grabbing his muzzle and prying it open. I slipped a tooth guard in that would prevent him from biting down. I used the callipers to grab the tongue and pull it out. With my other hand, I threaded the piercing, made specifically to try and weigh the tongue down so it would be harder to talk. Once the piercing was secured, I freed his tongue and removed the guard.

The Brute was in pain, wincing. But when I looked down at him I marvelled; he was erect. I moved my bloodied fingers down and grasped it, feeling him pulse in my palm. His body jumped, his eyes looking at me and narrowing, but he said nothing. I think he was in too much pain.

"You are hard because I drugged you. I have studied anatomy for most of my life, and I have a keen interest in male tigers specifically. I learned the exact chemical that would induce arousal in males like you. You are probably feeling desire like you have never experienced. You are already breathing heavier and your heart rate is elevated."

I grinned and grabbed a glass dish that had been resting over an open flame. I looked down at it and rolled the liquid around. Oil. I lifted it up and over the tiger and tilted it. I watched as the oil -- still too hot to be comfortable on the skin -- poured over his erection.

The Brute roared in pain as I am sure it burned, but it would not actually leave any marks. It would be uncomfortable as it cooled but I knew that I could not damage my new toy so quickly. Still, watching the Brute writhe in his chains and actually cry out as the oil coated his penis greatly pleased me. I put the dish down and grinned, crawling up and onto the table, straddling his waist.

"I am not sure if you are a homosexual. I know one of your brothers does like men as well as women, and I am betting you may be the other end of the spectrum to the Usurper. I don't know if you have ever acted on them, but we will explore that together, intimately."

The Brute was not a small man. His manhood was thicker and longer than my Warrior's, but he was breathing harder, faster. He was either in a bit of shock from the pain or the drug. He could also be scared about what was about to happen to him. I purred at the idea and spread my legs, reaching behind me and grabbing the Brute by his base.

"You are mine. Your body, your soul, your mind, everything about your base existence is gone. You are nothing without my ownership and you are to be grateful I even acknowledge you. You, who are a speck of dust compared to me and my Simon."

I did not hesitate as I slipped myself over his manhood. I groaned a little as his thick shaft spread me wide. I hissed a little. He was maybe too big to take so eagerly, but I was excited and needy. I pushed myself further down until I was settled in his lap.

The expression on the tiger's face was priceless. He was confused, in pain, and in pleasure. It was a mixture of emotions that made my own member throb in desire to continue my treatment of him. I shuddered and braced myself, sitting up straight and then sliding up by lifting my weight up on my knees. I winced as he almost popped out of me, but then I plunged down. The pain was almost too much, but I loved it. I swallowed hard and looked down, smirking widely. I slammed one of my hands down into the tiger's thigh, coming away with blood dripping from my fingers. I licked his blood and continued.

The rhythm of my body was focused on one thing, my own pleasure. I held myself steady while my other hand, bloodied, grasped my erection and stroked myself. Sometimes the blood would dry and I needed more, so I went back to the wound and got more. I would masturbate myself with the Brute's own blood.

His body was mine, his mind was mine, and he would keep me occupied for a while. I needed this. I cannot wait to share him with my Warrior. To see those two powerful men pleasure one another would be a piece of art.

I was the first to hit my climax. I pushed myself down onto his penis, feeling the same familiar buildup of pleasure and warmth, a tingling in my testicles. I purred low and was still stroking myself when my orgasm hit. I cried out and kept sliding up and down, though much slower, as my seed exploded out and across that broad, muscular chest. I watched as the Brute turned his head and a splash crossed his muzzle. I purred as I kept stroking until every drop of myself was out of my penis, falling to the muscular body beneath me.

But I did not let up. I rode him, watching him with wide, hungry eyes, as he writhed under me, enduring pleasure while also hurting so much. I purred and rolled my hips, clenched my muscles, and tormented his body with pleasure. He was trying so hard to deny himself. I saw him thrash his head from side to side as he fought back the impending wave.

Finally he broke -- his muzzle opening up and crying out loudly as he hit his peak. His hips bucked hard and met mine, jamming every inch of his penis into me. I shuddered as I felt him explode, filling me with his seed. I could feel him pulsing, more and more, until it made me pause in surprise. It would be a disservice to call it an ejaculation -- it was an eruption.

When it was over, the Brute's head fell back onto the table, panting and dripping sweat. He was exhausted by the looks of things. He looked hurt, ashamed. I purred and leant over him, both hands on either side of his head as I leaned in and licked the blood from his lips.

"Marvellous," I whispered down to him. "This shall be a grand night indeed, my dear Brute."