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It was after midnight, and Ciro tried to keep his tail from squeezing between his legs as he looked around Boris's apartment. He had been to the tiger's flat before, but never on his own, and never with the intention to do what the tiger expected of him tonight. As he waited for Boris to come back, he looked around the room that had at once excited, embarrassed and aroused him on his previous visits, most of which he'd made in the company of his roommate Darrel, who had been Boris's friend for years.

Subtlety wasn't in the feline's vocabulary, but the colour black had plenty of representation in the room he called his "den". Split about two thirds down its length by a single step, so that one side of the room was higher than the other, all of the windows were covered with heavy black drapes that Ciro had never seen opened. A pair of black leather couches, comfortable and in decent shape despite the scratches, stains and taped over rips marring their cushions; formed a right angle that filled most of the lower and smaller portion of the room. Squished between them and a large TV was a (black) coffee table, scuffed and scratched with age. The TV was in good enough shape to seem out of place.

The larger and higher portion that made up the remainder of the den was less organized. A large punching bag hung in one corner, and weights were stacked on a steel frame set against one of the walls. A leather arm chair with enough tape and scratches to make the couches look new sat in the corner across from the punching bag, and the floor space in between was mostly taken up by a black gym mat. Shelves and hooks on the walls held more weights, along with boxing and MMA gloves, books, DVDs and an assortment of trinkets. One bookshelf held a wide assortment of erotic toys, from leather cuffs and blindfolds to thick rubber dildos and strings of anal beads. An adjustable bondage rack was positioned beside the armchair, looking like a narrow bed or table except for its padded leather surface and thick steel attachment points along all four sides of the frame. Chains hung from more attachment points, both set into the walls and the high ceiling, and ropes and whips were coiled on various shelves.

Standing near the middle of the room with his paws squishing into the gym mat, Ciro looked around at the collection with a mix of nervousness and curiosity. The first night he'd come over to Boris's place Darrel and the tiger had been sharing the couch watching porn, and Ciro had found himself teasingly and physically coaxed into taking part. He'd enjoyed himself once he's gotten over his anxiety, and had had just as much fun on his other visit to the tiger's apartment, when he'd tagged along with his boyfriend Jordan and first watched, then reluctantly joined in their wrestling on the mat that his paws were currently sinking into. That time, it had been Boris's paw that had gotten him off, rubbing him through his shorts while pinning him to the mat, eventually leaving him lying there sore, exhausted and sticky and talking to Jordan like nothing unusual had happened. Maybe from Boris's perspective nothing had. Jordan hadn't minded, and had only joked about his worry that Ciro would abandon him for an older, taller, more garishly coloured feline with a sexy accent and bigger apartment.

The sound of boots clomping on the wooden floor announced Ciro's host before Boris came into the den, and Ciro's tail started to swish behind him as he looked at the tiger, who grinned back at him. Orange fur with broad black stripes wrapped but couldn't soften incredibly thick muscles. The shirtless tiger's chest and arms were big enough that if Ciro tried to wrap his arms around Boris his hands wouldn't have come close to meeting behind the man's back. He was wearing a leather harness that barely covered any of that chest: a wall of muscle and fur that blocked the door. More straps of leather strained around biceps and hips, and the red and black thong holding back the tiger's cock seemed to be at real risk of snapping. Smug blue eyes glimmered as they looked down at Ciro and gauged the coyote's reaction to the sight of him, while a thick cigar in the tiger's mouth, currently unlit, twitched as he shifted it to speak.

"Should be undressed now, unless coyote is backing out?"

Boris spoke with a Russian accent, one that was thick enough that Ciro wasn't sure if the accent was real or the tiger just spoke that way when the coyote was around out of amusement at the effect the voice had. Blushing at the question and unable to make his own tongue form words, the coyote shook his head mutely and then reached down to pull off his t-shirt, tangling it around his muzzle in his haste. As he pulled the shirt away from his eyes and dropped it onto the mat, he saw that Boris's expression had become a full-fledged grin, one that widened as Ciro unhooked his belt and started to pull down his jeans. Uncomfortable and nervous with that silent, predatory grin, Ciro cast around for some way to break the silence and release some of his tension.

"So, uh, all I have to do is-"

"I do what I want to coyote," Boris interrupted, "and get on camera for Darrel," he added, pointing at a set of webcams that had been set up with strategic views of the raised side of the den. "All part of deal,"

The deal I made with Darrel, Ciro thought as embarrassment heated his face. Giving the dominant badger a coupon entitling him to the coyote's body for a whole day had been the perfect perverted and inexpensive birthday present, or so Ciro had thought. Ciro's roommate got plenty of time with the coyote's body anyway, especially when Jordan wasn't around, but he was the kind of guy who'd get a huge rush out of technically owning the coyote, even if it was only for 24 hours. And as depraved as Darrel could be, Ciro typically ended up loving whatever was done to him, or at least getting off on it.

But then Darrel had gone and given the coupon to Boris, in an unorthodox example of why re-gifting ruined friendships. The tiger had immediately called the coyote and demanded a date, and Ciro had been left with the choice of refusing, which Darrel would never let him live down and which Jordan would tease him about for weeks, or letting a massive, sexy tiger have his way with him.

That choice had seemed an obvious one, up until the moment that he was standing in Boris's apartment.

"Uh... that's alright I guess," he said finally.

"Correct response is Yes Sir," Boris corrected, his brow lowering and his stance suddenly a lot more threatening. Ciro rushed to repeat his agreement, including the requested honorific in a hesitant voice and blushing under his fur enough for the light fur inside his ears to be tinged red.

"Good boy," Boris purred deeply, which made Ciro's cheeks heat up even more. "I get coyote's body tonight, I give film to Darrel tomorrow," Boris assured him. "Now take off boxers or run home and tell badger you said no."

"Yes Sir," Ciro answered, finding it was slightly easier the second time to say the words with some confidence. Obediently, Ciro pulled off his underwear and revealed his erection to the tiger, standing before him entirely naked. The coyote's cock was already most of the way outside of his sheath, so at least that part of him seemed to have no reluctance to go through with their agreement. Boris's grin widened as he beckoned the coyote over to him, wrapping a powerful arm around the smaller male's shoulders and guiding him over to the bondage rack in the corner. Biting back a whimper at the weight of the tiger's arm and the feel of Boris's powerful muscles against his naked fur, Ciro inhaled the sweaty musk of the enormous feline, feeling his tail flatten itself against his legs again.

"Is puppy nervous?" Boris asked unnecessarily, a firm hand planted on Ciro's shoulder gently but insistently turning the coyote around to face him, its twin reaching up to the canine's other shoulder. Ciro's own body was fairly toned with muscle, but he had the distinct impression as thick fingers wrapped around his shoulders that Boris could crush his shoulders or dislocate his arms with the same exertion that Ciro might expend opening a jar.

A light push pressed the coyote's legs against the rack, and with a yip he fell backward, his back pressing into the soft, cool leather padding. Boris's body loomed over him, and he swallowed nervously as the tiger took a hold of one wrist and pulled his arm up above his head. Following the motion with his eyes, Ciro watched the tiger as he brought up his other hand, large fist wrapped around a thick metal cuff, its interior lined with soft leather padding. With a snap, the cuff sealed around tightly Ciro's wrist, and Boris pressed close against Ciro to grab the coyote's other arm.

In only a few moments, Ciro's wrists were both locked in their restraints, a thick chain running between the cuffs looped through and locked to a steel ring at the top of the bondage rack. As Boris stepped back the coyote tried to pull either arm down, and found the combination of lock and chain kept him from shifting either of his arms more than a few inches. The rack was a good deal taller than he was, and the coyote had to stretch to his full height just to keep his paws on the floor.

The quiet clinking of the chains as he shifted was both arousing and unsettling, an unnecessary reminder of the fact that he was now entirely at Boris's mercy. Rather than taking advantage of it though, the tiger walked away from the chained coyote and began to fiddle with the webcams that he'd had set up before Ciro had arrived. As Ciro watched, tail between his legs and ears low, Boris turned on two of the cameras and dimmed most of the room's lights, then finally flicked on the TV with the remote, casually hitting the buttons without so much as glancing at the coyote until Ciro saw a surprisingly clear picture of himself come up on the wide screen as Boris called up the webcams. Ciro was left waiting still longer while the tiger lit his cigar, and it was only after he'd sent up a cloud of smoke that he turned to the rack in the corner and began to advance on Ciro's restrained form, pulling down his thong to reveal a thick, bulging hard-on already dripping with pre. The size alone was enough to make Ciro gulp.

Ciro's own erection was pretty stiff, and it was hard for him to stand still as Boris paused in front of him, looming over him and switching on a webcam taped to the wall just above the bondage rack. The end of the tiger's cigar glowed in the gloom, and its noxious smoke made the coyote wrinkle his nose as Boris blew it down toward him, shifting the cigar back to the corner of his muzzle.

"Puppy is looking tense," Boris growled. "Let Boris help with that."

Ciro watched in mounting disbelief as Boris's huge body lowered, the tiger squatting on thick knees so that Ciro found himself looking down at the striped head and shoulders. The cigar's light reflected on the coyote's fur, and a strange thrill went through him as Boris blew its smoke over his body, as if washing away Ciro's own scent and replacing it with the stink of the smoke. And then Boris's hand was holding the cigar, and the tiger's muzzle was lowering over the coyote's crotch.

Something thick and wet and rough rubbed up the length of the coyote's erection, and he moaned as Boris's mouth closed first around his balls and then licked up his cock. The strong tongue wrapped around his dick and slid up and down, making Ciro's hips quiver and his tail slap the leather padding behind him. His hands clenched into fists and he squirmed uselessly in his restraints, pushing his hips forward and shuddering as the tiger pulled back and left the coyote's shaft wet and glistening. The tiger flashed a smug look up at the coyote, then leaned back down to make Ciro squirm a second time.

Boris wouldn't be getting any awards for technique. His tongue was awkward and unskilled as it explored Ciro's cock, and the tiger's teeth keep brushing uncomfortably against his shaft and balls, making him shiver and whimper. But the rough and carless way Boris sucked his cock reinforced which of them was in control, even as it left Ciro squirming and whining. And the tiger was persistent too, roughly licking and sucking on the coyote until Ciro was left panting with his heart pounding in his chest. It wasn't long before the pent up arousal and nervousness that had been growing in the coyote since he'd stepped into the apartment threatened to burst.

"Sir," Ciro whined though his panting, "I... think I'm... gonna...."

Boris seemed to have felt it too, and rather than easing off, the tiger's hands flattened Ciro's hips against the padded rack, keeping him from squirming as the feline's tongue swept through the last of the coyote's resistance. Heat rushed through his body, and Ciro let out a moaning howl as his muscles tensed against the tiger's unyielding grip. Shuddering and panting as he came, Ciro's howl ended in a breathless gasp, and his fists unclenched as the tension flowed from his body, replaced with the tingling relaxation of afterglow, and the sudden sensitivity that left him all the more aware of the cuffs around his wrists, the smoke and sweat filling his nose and the tiger's teasing fangs.

Standing and tapping the ash off his cigar, the tiger took hold of the coyote's muzzle in his free hand and pulled it to his own, his tongue forcing Ciro's mouth open. The coyote's eyes widened as he felt and tasted his own spunk and realized that his load was still in the tiger's mouth. With the smaller male shivering in the tiger's dominant grip, Boris forced Ciro to take back his own cum, pressing a pair of fingers over the squirming coyote's nose to force him to swallow. Finally satisfied, he released the coyote and watched him gasp and choke down the salty tasting cum; hanging limply in the restraints that still bound his arms and breathing heavily.

His mouth still filled with his own taste, Ciro panted and looked up into Boris's amused expression. The tiger had returned the cigar to his mouth, and its tip glowed as Boris inhaled.

"Was good?" Boris asked in a voice that combined genuine curiosity with smug satisfaction.

"That... wasn't what I was... expecting," Ciro gasped, finding that it was easy to smile at the tiger now. To his surprise though, his answer made the tiger's expression change slightly, some of the amusement replaced with something sterner and less friendly.

"Perhaps I will give Puppy what he expected,"

Licking his muzzle nervously, Ciro was once again aware of how helpless the restraints left him, and he watched with growing apprehension as the tiger walked over to the nearest shelves, picking up a variety of things that his huge body hid from Ciro's view. Tingling with his afterglow and with his shrinking erection still dripping onto the floor, the coyote felt his anxiety and embarrassment rising now that the arousal that muted it had been sated. He was distinctly aware of the three cameras, and by the time Boris came back over to the rack and dropped his assembled gear loudly at Ciro's paws, the coyote's ears were once again flattened and his tail was doing its best to cover his exposed balls.

"Is my turn to play now," Boris rumbled, making Ciro whine as he wrapped a hand around the coyote's sensitive balls. Once again smoke washed in a cloud over Ciro's face, leaving him coughing and making his eyes water as Boris's grinned down at him. The tiger's grip on Ciro's sac tightened enough to make Ciro suck in a breath and whimper. It didn't hurt, but it was far from comfortable either.

"Coyote wants it rough, da?" Boris rumbled, the slight growl giving the question only a single safe answer, especially with Boris's claws lightly poking against his balls. It wasn't a fair question, but then, Ciro realized, it wasn't supposed to be.

Swallowing, it took an effort for Ciro to make himself speak without stammering.

"Yes Sir," he answered.

"Good doggy," Boris boomed, and his rumbling purr took away some of the earlier threat. Reaching up to grab the coyote by his shoulder, he fiddled with the chain linking Ciro's wrists and then turned the coyote around so that his chest was pressed up against the padded leather rack. The pressure on his wrists was increased as the chain tightened, and Ciro strained to stand as the cuffs pulled at his arms, unable to pull away from the rack or to change his position. That didn't seem to satisfy Boris though, not until the tiger had gone down on his knees and tightened another pair of cuffs around the coyote's ankles. The tiger's sharp claws teased Ciro's legs through his fur as Boris tightened the restraints, and he reached up to play with the coyote's tail as it once again tried to creep between his legs.

"I know what will make coyote more comfortable," Boris chuckled, and with a strong hand the tiger turned Ciro's muzzle to face away from him. "Stay," Boris commanded, and a few seconds later he was pulling something heavy and soft over the coyote's head. Ciro had worn hoods before, but this one was made of leather that had been padded with something thick and heavy enough that it pressed around his face from all sides. The weight was the first thing he noticed as the hood was pulled over his muzzle and forehead, but the second was the smell of tiger cum. The musky scent of Boris's semen was strong enough to block out every other smell in the room, even the smoke from the tiger's cigar, and as his nose poked into leather that was damp and sticky, he was pretty sure he understood why.

Ciro tried to breathe shallowly as Boris shifted the hood so that his ears poked out and then slowly zipped it tight over his skull, but the leather muzzle was too tight for him to open his mouth and his nervousness in the blackness of the hood left him wanting to pant. Ciro whimpered as Boris tightened the thing further, cinching straps around his muzzle and neck so that the hood didn't move at all as Ciro shifted against the rack. He flinched as he suddenly felt Boris's breath hot against his ear, and clenched his fists as the tiger reached down to gently rub his ass. Surprise had made him inhale sharply, filling his nostrils with the smells of leather and tiger spunk.

"Much better," Boris purred loudly, and Ciro's ears flattened nervously as the tiger stepped away. He wanted to ask what Boris would do, but even if he'd been able to open his mouth enough to speak he had a sinking suspicion that the tiger wouldn't answer him. Shifting nervously in the restraints holding him in place, he tried to think of what Boris had said, what he'd implied, anything to give him a clue as to what he could expect from the tiger next. It was going to be rough, and as he struggled to stand straight enough to keep the cuffs from pulling on his wrists, his tail occasionally flicking nervously, he realized that Boris wanted him to have time to wonder. Anxiety made it hard to stand still, and each creak of the floorboards behind him made him flinch and want to whimper.

Until he'd been standing still for a few minutes, or what he thought was a few minutes, he hadn't realized exactly how completely the hood cut off the sights and smells of the world. The smell of tiger cum that had seemed so strong and powerful to him when the hood was pulled on seemed no more potent now, but it was hard to imagine it not being there. The air reaching his nose was hot and thick, the tight leather squeezing his face and making him sweat beneath it. He tried to focus on the cooler air over his fur, but that only reminded him that he was chained, naked and still sticky with his own cum, in the den of an enormous tiger that he barely knew. And he was on camera too, which meant that Darrel and Jordan and who knew how many other guys would laugh at each embarrassing whine and shiver. The leather of the bondage rack creaked softly as he shifted against it, the soft padding now warm from the heat of his body.

There was no warning before a sharp, stinging pain stabbed through his backside, and it wasn't until the pain lanced through him that the loud smacking sound reached his ears. Caught by surprise, only the thick leather pressed around his muzzle muffled Ciro's yelp of pain, and as he inhaled and filled his lungs with tiger cum another painful whack made him cry out a second time. Clenching his teeth and breathing rapidly, he felt his tail try to sweep between his legs, only to be grabbed roughly in a powerful hand and pulled out of the way.

There was another stinging blow, harder than the ones before it, and Ciro pulled hard against the restraints and against the hand clutching his tail. His muscles strained, but succeeded only in making his heart race faster as the paddle struck his ass again, driving him back into the bondage rack. The burning pain seemed to be flowing from his rear into the rest of his body, being forced into him with each painful smack. Boris's strength had impressed Ciro before, and it didn't feel like the tiger was holding any of that back. And as the coyote whimpered and whined appeasingly and felt the tears trickle from the corner of his eyes; each heavy breath forced him to suck in more of Boris's musk.

For a little while, Ciro tried to count the times that the tiger's paddle smacked against his flesh. But the tiger didn't stick to any set rhythm, and was beating him too fast for the coyote to follow. Each solid whack added to the pain, as if needles were being driven into his skin, pushing Ciro's mind father and making it harder and harder to focus on anything except the growing burn. He stopped trying to hold back his yelps, but even those died off into quiet whines. Physical discomfort replaced humiliation and fear, and soon he couldn't even brace himself against the sweaty leather. Sweat covered his face, his senses were overwhelmed by the musk and weight and the sharp stinging. Now every solid blow seemed to ripple through his whole body, down to his clenched toes and fists and up to the ears that were flattened against his skull.

The first strike had surprised him, but the last barely registered, and it was a couple of moments before Ciro realized that the paddle had stopped hitting him. The burning sensation, unfortunately, remained, and every movement made him wince and sniff inside the hood that concealed at least some of his humiliation. The cuffs around his wrists dug into his skin as he let them take some of his weight, and he realized as he tried to stand straighter than his legs were quivering slightly.

Something touched his rear. The touch was a gentle one, but even that was enough to make him whine and push closer against the leather padding.

"Relax," Boris growled, and Ciro tried to follow that advice as the tiger's hands slowly stroked his abused ass, exploring through the fur and letting his tail hang limply. It was still hard to focus on anything except for the pain, but Ciro did his best. He might have been blindfolded, and unable to smell anything but Boris's cum, but if he tried he could hear the tiger's breathing and the sound of the leather restraints creaking as he shifted uncomfortably. The tiger's strong hands had moved up away from his aching behind, and the coyote tried to let himself calm down as the powerful fingers rubbed through the fur of his back and teased some of the tension out of him. When Boris let go though, the coyote's ears began to sink once more. Was the tiger done with him? Or did he have worse still to look forward to?

Another sound, something that sounded wet and squelching, made him flick his ears with a growing sense of dread. Sure enough, the tiger's fingers returned to his butt, only the sensation they left this time was cool and gooey. Ciro whimpered and shuddered at the strange feeling of cold wetness mingling with aching heat, but the more of the goop that Boris slathered onto his fur, the better it felt. The coyote's breathing became less ragged, and despite his earlier climax he felt his sheath stirring at the tiger's touch. It was almost like the musk of cum and the smooth tightness of the leather made anything that Boris did to him feel good, and when the tiger's fingers slid beneath his tail and gently poked at the tight hole they found there, Ciro grinned and pressed himself back against them.

Boris purred behind him in approval, and as a thick finger positioned itself at Ciro's hole and the tiger's free arm wrapped around the coyote's body, Ciro shivered and tried to steady himself. Even knowing what Boris was going to do, he leaned into his restraints and let out another yip as the thick digit pressed into him, opening him and forcing his body to yield to it. The slippery, gooey lube that the finger brought with it felt amazing inside the coyote's body, and his muscles clenched as Boris started to wiggle his finger around, stroking the coyote's insides and making him groan and quiver as the sensitive spots he found sent pleasure tingling through the pain Boris had left earlier. Ciro's jaw clenched as another slippery finger pushed in alongside the first, stretching his hole, but that discomfort didn't take long to fade into a wonderful sensation of fullness.

Now the coyote was more than a little aroused, and the tip of cock pressed against the soft leather padding as Boris slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving Ciro at once ready and eager for more. Strong hands took hold of the smaller male's hips, and Ciro's paws shifted on the floor as he tried to brace himself. The warm, slippery weight that pressed up under the coyote's tail was thicker than any finger, and as Boris eased himself inside the coyote gasped and bit off another yelp. He'd seen Boris's erection before, but he'd had no idea just how huge the tiger was until that moment. His whole body seemed to be stretching and straining as the tiger's cock invaded him, the thick head opening the coyote's hole and leaving him to dig his claws into his palms and breathe in hard. Boris took his time, inch after unbelievably thick inch gradually forcing their way deeper, sending tingling pleasure through the coyote's body and making his muscles strain and protest. It didn't hurt, or if it did it was hard for Ciro to distinguish that pain from the throbbing ache of his earlier paddling. The paddling, though, hadn't left him feeling stuffed and aroused and moaning with desire as he was speared on Boris's shaft.

"Tight dog..." Boris growled as his hips finally pressed up against Ciro's sore rear. By the way it felt, blindfolded and swimming in tiger cum, that was something of an understatement. The tiger's hand reached around and gently touched Ciro's own cock, now fully erect and dripping with pre that trickled onto the bondage rack he was chained to. "Does not feel like puppy minds,"

Like most big cats, Boris's cock hadn't felt particularly strange on its way into the coyote, but as the muscular tiger began to pull himself out, tiny ridges pulled against Ciro's insides and seemed to urge the coyote to tighten his muscles around Boris's shaft. The little barbs massaged him roughly on the inside, and as they rubbed him the coyote whimpered and tried to make himself tighter, to trap the tiger's thick manhood inside of him. Then Boris was coming back into him, a fast, sudden motion compared to his earlier probing, and Ciro's whimper turned into a muffled howl that was as much pleasure as it was discomfort. As Boris's cock thrust into him over and over, pushing him open and pulling his barbed dick back through Ciro's body, the ridges on the tiger's cock felt like they were pulling away discomfort and pain and leaving nothing behind but blissful and desperate arousal.

Boris was breathing more heavily now, and the tiger's paws dug into the coyote's sides as they held him still, the tiger's hips ploughing him into Ciro as the coyote squirmed and panted and felt his knot swelling. More than anything he wanted to touch himself, but Boris's grip even kept him from rubbing himself against the leather rack. The occasional light brush of its smooth surface against the tip of his cock teased him, but not enough for him to reach the climax his body craved.

Stretching the coyote open and hammering him again and again, Boris was having no such trouble. The tiger's hard body squeezed against his, and thick arms wrapped around him, crushing him into the feline's chest and pulling against the cuffs on Ciro's wrists and ankles. At this point, the tiger's thrusts followed each other in rapid succession, Boris barely pulling back after each shove of his hips made his balls slap against the coyote. He wasn't going far, but the short back and forth motions pounded against a spot inside of Ciro that made him wonder if he was going to cum without anything touching his cock at all. The arms around him squeezed harder, forcing the air from his lungs and leaving him inhaling desperately and shallowly in the confines of his musky hood as his heart throbbed and Boris's grunting filled his ears.

The tiger's orgasm was powerful enough that Ciro felt it in his entire body, the arms and chest clenching around him, the hips jerking, and what felt like a fountain of hot, thick wetness pouring into him, filling him and spreading through him far more pleasantly than the earlier pain had been. Unable to move and unable to breathe, with his own arousal throbbing for release, Ciro just clenched his muscles and felt the tiger's cum pumping into him, far more than he'd imagined could have been possible, or maybe that was just the way it felt to his sore and tired body. At last, some of Ciro's desperate squirming got through to Boris, and with a purring sigh the tiger loosened his bear hug enough for Ciro to slump against the padded rack and suck in air.

The tiger let him breathe deeply until he started to hump the bondage rack, and then those powerful hands were pulling Ciro back again, and the tiger's erection was sliding out of him, teasing him one last time with its ridges and leaving behind not emptiness, but a warm, wet fullness that made Ciro blush inside of his hood. He felt more hot cum trickle down onto his fur as the tiger pulled free, and then he heard Boris moving behind him, doing something with the cuffs around his ankles.

A few seconds later, Ciro was being turned around, the chain holding up his wrists loosening slightly as his back rested against the bondage rack in the position that the tiger had strapped him in the first time. This time though, Boris took the time to fasten his ankle cuffs to the rack again, preventing Ciro from trying to turn or pull away. Hot breath tickled against his erection tantalizingly, and then the tiger's hand patted the coyote's chest and the breath disappeared again.

"Day is just getting started, coyote cannot expect Boris to be so gentle every time."

Boris's voice was dominant and firm, but Ciro was starting to recognize the teasing and mocking tone in it, a tone that made his shrinking knot start to swell again. The day was indeed just getting started, and he had a sinking suspicion that the worst, and the best, were all yet to come.