Brief encounter
An old story I've touched up while thinking about writing a new chapter.
*****
Brief Encounter
Jenny looked at the tiger through the bars and daydreamed.
Mike was off buying ice-cream for the two of them; he'd grumbled good-naturedly about the prices here at the zoo, but off he'd gone anyway. He'd be back soon. In the meantime....
In the meantime she admired the tiger. He was a great block of a beast, almost rectangular from the side, his muscles standing out under the fur, legs like columns. He sat back just behind the bars, and watched her in return.
She had always liked tigers. Lions were nice, too, with their manes. Like her boyfriend, she had a thing for animals. Before they'd met, she had most often avoided men, and would lie in bed instead with a book on wildlife open. Most often that issue of National Geographic with the glossy pictures of mating tigers. She'd pretend she was the female.
And she would come to the zoo, watch the tigers or the lions and fantasize that they'd mate while she watched. Once a pair of jaguars had almost done so. The male kept trying to mount the female, but she wasn't interested.
Jenny had been. If she could just once find someone with a pet lion, or tiger, or cougar...she sighed. Mike had the same sort of dreams, and they talked, and had sex, and pretended. It wasn't the same.
She watched the tiger, still watching her, and let herself daydream. She was the only one in front of the cage right now, so she crossed her arms and rested her chin on her hand as she looked at him. Her other hand could rub the side of her breast through the sweater as she fantasized.
*****
She was inside the cage, now. She'd slipped through the bars, meant to keep a tiger inside - never mind that the bars were actually a screen mesh with 2" holes. The tiger lifted his head, seeing her so close, and before she could say anything whipped a paw behind her ankles. She was on her back as he stepped forward, sniffing, interested. She lifted her knees as his muzzle went down, but he forced his massive head between her thighs, and with a snap of his fangs, ripped her dress into shreds. Her panties dangled in strips from his jaws.
She shrieked (a passer-by in the real world gave her an odd look, though it was just a squeak there) and tried to cover herself, but the tiger stepped forward, his cheeks furry under her palms, pushing her arms upward. The barrel of his chest forced between her thighs, coarse fur sliding over her mound, and she groaned. In a moment, her knees hooked over his haunches, the tiger's thighs pushing her legs up and apart.
His eyes were yellow, pale, unreadable, her hands stretching the fur of his cheeks as she thrust against him with all her strength. He hardly moved, his head half as large as her chest, and his belly wrinkled up over the rags of her dress as he entered her.
She gasped, pushing at his chin, but he snarled, and she felt the short sheath pull back as his barbed penis slid into her. He thrust rapidly, and though his shaft was not impossibly huge, the spines on its tip rasped painfully on each withdrawal. In a moment she was screaming, half in pleasure, half in pain, as the tiger had her.
It didn't last long. She knew it wouldn't, as she stood swaying, alone in front of the tiger pen. Less than a minute. But as the great beast snarled, as her sex clenched around the barbed shaft, she felt a gush of heat down inside her. Not too much, just one quick jet, as his muzzle came down, biting into her sweater as he would the nape of a tigress.
She gasped, felt the hot fluid dripping down inside her. The tiger lifted his head, rasping out a growl, satisfied...and with a quick motion, yawned a jaw-cracking gape, and forced his maw down over her head.
Jenny flinched. Her head fit perfectly into the tiger's mouth, his tongue sandpaper-rough against her chin, his fangs hooked behind her skull. This wasn't part of her fantasy. She pushed up against his neck, thick as a barrel...but he was no more movable now than when he had mounted her. She felt the barbed cock pull out of her as his lips pushed down past her ears. His tongue pushed up against her chin, and with a gulp her head was in his throat. The slippery gullet slid over her face, muscular and tight as it pulled her deeper.
She swayed where she stood, daydreaming. But this wasn't her dream, any more.
His jaws were around her shoulders now, the tiger's rapid, hungry gulps pulling her in inch after inch. The throat gripped at her as he held her between his forepaws, pushing his muzzle down over her breasts. He should not be able to do this!
But his lips popped over her sweater-covered breasts, her shoulders sliding down into his throat. The neckfur was stretched over her; her fingers dug at the bulge and felt the shape that worked its way quickly down into his torso. She was being swallowed whole. In a moment her upper arms were pinned, and she lay in the tight sheath of his throat, pushed deeper by the cat's powerful swallowing muscles. Shoulders, breasts, belly, and now her hips were sucked into the ravenous maw, her butt filling his jaws tight for a moment before he gulped that down, too.
Gulp, and she began to slide, her thighs scraping past his fangs as she was pulled down into his throat. The gullet rippled, clutching at her hips and shoulders, pushing her down. Her knees bumped past his teeth, and something tight wrapped around her forehead then slid past her cheeks, Her head popped into his stomach, filled with an incredible stink...and then she was filling it, the strong throat-muscles pushing her down, her shoulders pressing against the wet skin of his belly.
With a snap his muzzle closed around her feet, and she kicked once before he gulped them down, too. All of her was in his throat, and with a smooth slide she squeezed down through his barrel chest, more and more of her coming to rest in his guts. And then it was over, the stomach stretched taut around her.
She struggled in his belly, gasped, opened her eyes to the real world. The daydream was over.
Jenny's eyes opened: she was in tight, wet, fetid darkness. She could move only a tiny bit, her fingers sliding through stinging slime. "But...this wasn't my fantasy."
The rakshasa smiled as he felt the wriggling inside him, heard the little voice, and said: "No. It's mine."
To the outward eye, he was a tiger. The huge bulge in his belly would not be seen, any more than his real shape would be. And soon enough the bulge would be gone, digested like his other meals. Playing a zoo tiger had its rewards; he'd even had a mating from this one before she satisfied his hunger. Usually he had to assume a more human form to seduce them in their dreams, but this one would have come right into his cage if she'd been allowed. Of course she wouldn't expect to end the meeting in his belly, but then again, they never did.
A long, satisfied belch rumbled up out of him, but no one heard it.
Mike returned to the tiger cage, an ice cream in each hand. "Jenny?" She was nowhere to be seen. He peered at the tiger, who lazily looked back; she didn't usually wander when there was a big cat to look at. Maybe she'd gone to the lion pen. With a shrug, he continued on. She had to be around here somewhere.