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The History of Pebble the Lion

The pulsing beat of the club music matched the harsh pounding of Pebble's excited pulse as he wandered through small spaces between the dancers on the floor. His tail twitched to the same rhythm as he walked around and between the older furs around him, his lips turned up in a smile that almost hurt him with its intensity, a smile of a man on the hunt.

One wouldn't think it of the small lion; dressed in a school boy's blazer and pants, the five foot one lion was smaller than most of the others around him. Lanky and slim throughout his upper body, the charcoal gray furred lion moved with a nearly feminine grace, his body sliding and weaving between people with practiced ease. Though his clothes were conservative, they couldn't quite hide the swell of his rump in the back, pushing at the tight clothes despite the little flap of the blazer in the back trying to cover it. He looked almost like a kid that had snuck into the club on a dare.

That was only partially right. He WAS underage, and he had snuck in. But it wasn't on a dare.

The lion's eyes flicked from one dancer on the floor to another, looking for people that could catch his eyes. An elephant was briefly considered before he was discarded; a little too big, a little too round for him. The fox in latex was another brief consideration, but he had a collar on. He doubted that the fox would be interested in getting his cock under his tail.

But there were so many that he eventually found a few potential conquests, all the while moving and slinking around between the dancers, showing his body off all along the way, his tail twitching to the beat of the music to catch a few more eyes.

And there were eyes watching; he could feel each and every one of them, the hungry gazes of men that wanted a round rump like his pressed against their crotch, feeling his ass clasping around their cocks. They wanted him bad. Their eyes pressed against him, and he swore that he could feel them drooling at the thoughts of what he might be able to do for them.

Still dancing, he watched as some of the other men on the lit up floor started walking his way. A jaguar, dressed in a skin tight suit, showing off a large bulge in his pants; a stallion that was fondling himself already as he walked across the dance floor, in serious danger of splitting his pants; a muscled iguana that seemed ready to hold as much as he was to fuck. And all of them had eyes for him, barely even cognizant of the others around.

Pebble grinned as they finally caught sight of each other. Oh, there it was...the spark of competition, of doms rushing to claim what they wanted before another dom could get it first. The lion's lips twitched as he continued to dance, flicking his tail up to keep the back of his blazer off of his rump. He watched as their eyes dropped, looking down at him again, measuring him, how much they wanted him, against what they were willing to do when other dominants were involved.

To his pleasure, nobody backed down. They moved forward, dancing around him. Hips bumped and ground against his body, forcing their bulges against his ass, against his front, against his sides. The jaguar growled teasingly in his ear, and the stallion groped his ass directly. The iguana pressed in close enough for him to feel the hard muscles beneath those jeans and that shirt, and Pebble grinned at him, encouraging them one by one.

One by one, they dragged him towards them, claiming a short dance before he was pulled to another of the doms. Their grips were rough on his arm, but he was used to it; the lion's skin was thick, his muscles used to the quick pulls. They were part of the tease, part of the game.

Each dom seemed more than ready to take him home. It was up to him, and if he wanted to actually just get a little fun, all he needed to do was pick. The horse's huge cock; the jaguar's easy confidence and the feeling of those barbs in the back; the iguana's rock hard body and eager manner; they would all be fun, and it would be an easy decision for him.

But that wasn't the only reason he was here. Dick was cheap; he was here for the game.

Dancing back against the horse, he ground his rear against the bulge threatening to split the horse's pants open. He could feel the lust, could taste the need pouring off of the stallion. Reaching back, he stroked a finger over the horse's jawline, smiling at him. He moved his lips, whispering a sweet nothing...

Then pulled away, grabbing hold of the jaguar. They moved a few feet away, bumping and grinding as they moved along. The stallion watched them with a groan of frustration that was JUST audible over the music, and Pebble had to suppress a laugh. He reached back, guiding the jaguar's hips, moving with him, a slow tease, a stroking rub along the other feline's hips. A little moisture rubbed against the back of his hips, and he knew just how excited that the other big cat was. Smirking, he turned, standing chest to chest for a split second.

And then he was off again, into the arms of the iguana. Hard, thick arms grabbed hold of him, pulling him around and keeping him facing away. Those arms were powerful and strong, and he could feel that the reptile's legs were almost as strong, if not just as strong. A bodybuilder; mmm, hadn't had one of those in a long time. He shuddered lightly in those arms, sighing in pleasure as one of the iguana's hands reached around and patted his crotch. Daring too, Pebble thought.

They danced together for a whole song, and he could feel the surety pouring off of the reptile that he would be the one picked. He smiled to himself. Maybe...

But not tonight. As the song ended, Pebble danced away, grabbing hold of the stallion again. He gripped the bulge in the front, squeezing him. The little nicker, a soft neigh of pleasure, made him throb, made him twitch.

Then to the jaguar.

The jaguar smiled at him, and Pebble smiled back. He leaned up, lightly nipping at the other feline's neck. "Mmmm, take me home, stud?" the lion asked with a smile on his face.

"Mmm, why go that far?" the jaguar said. "Come on."

The horse and the iguana stared in shock as the pair of felines walked off. Pebble looked back at them with a bit of a smirk on his face, watching as their faces twisted up, first in shock, then in frustration...and finally, that little bit of anger mixed with feeling stupid, that look that all the doms got when they realized that they were played, that they lost out to another man, and that their cocks had made them look so stupid.

It was such a sweet nectar to him. He wished he could see that look every single night...and he almost did.

His chosen dom for the night led him by the arm through the club, towards the back alley. Pebble was able to lean against the jaguar a bit, enjoying the extra height that the other feline had. The jaguar stood a good seven inches taller than him, letting him loom, and it made the situation that much sexier for the lion. Lean, just like him, the jaguar nevertheless had a good set of muscles, as Pebble experienced when his lover forced his hand down against the jaguar's pants. He grinned, squeezing his hand around the bulge there, and was rewarded with the feeling of a hearty throbbing. Oh, this feline was more than ready to have a little fun.

They stepped outside, the music muted as the door shut behind them. A few other guys seemingly had the same idea as the jaguar, considering the grunts that filled the air and the smell of cum and a few other liquids around the alley. Nobody paid any attention to the smaller lion and his jaguar lover; they were too focused on their own partners.

In seconds, Pebble was pushed gently against the brick wall of the building opposite the club, and clawed fingers were working his pants. They were down in seconds, and he felt the other feline's fingers pressing between his ass cheeks. He moaned softly, his claws splaying out against the brick wall, and he shuddered as the first finger - lubed only with a bit of spit - slid inside of his hole. It spread easily for the jaguar, and he pressed back against it, helping the other feline get it in nice and deep.

"Heh...look at the little slut," the jaguar whispered. "You want it bad, don't you?"

"Mmm, yes..." Pebble smiled, lifting his tail up and bending forward a bit more. His pants were barely pulled down to his thighs, and it was only due to his legs being spread a bit that they didn't fall down. His ass was exposed, and he knew that the jaguar was just staring at it, seeing how his hole was spread around the furry digit. "I want it bad..."

That was doing it; even through the musk of the alley, the lion could smell the arousal coming off of the jaguar. He wanted it just as bad. He wanted a hot ass around his cock, and if he didn't get it soon, Pebble was pretty sure that the guy was going to go completely feral.

The finger slid in and out of his hole a few times, the tip bent just enough to rub against his prostate. Little tingles, so addictively lovely, rushed through the lion's body at each touch. He arched his back, moaning a little more at the feeling rushing through him. The jaguar had experience, he thought; he'd definitely picked right.

One finger became two, and soon after, three. The feeling of spit on them was barely there under the burning feeling of his hole stretching around the increasing number of fingers, a pleasant stretching feeling that he always welcomed. He held still, particularly when the jaguar started finger fucking him, slamming them in as deep as they would go. The rest of his hand, knocks and the fourth finger, slapped against his ass cheeks hard, making him grunt at the impacts. He rocked lightly, shoved back and forth by the jaguar's harsh fingering, and he loved it.

His barbed cock slid free from his sheath as he was rammed full, stretched out, and he only just resisted the urge to reach down and stroke himself. Not yet, Pebble told himself; wait until the fucking started. That was when it would be best.

The jaguar's fingers slid out, and Pebble only just realized that his top for the night was ready for him when the barbed tip of his cock pressed against his hole. The lion grinned, bracing himself.

It was only moderately effective; the barbs of other felines always pulled at him when they were shoved in, and that was with lube. Dry save for a bit of spit, the jaguar's cock ground against his hole and insides, tugging, pulling, grating at him. The lion growled, his fingers curling against the wall in front of him as he was filled, and he couldn't stop himself from pushing back just a bit.

"Slut...fucking slut," the jaguar growled in his ear. Pebble turned his head to the side as the bigger cat laid his chin on his shoulder. "Want my cock...gonna get it hard."

Not the best dirty talk he'd ever heard, but it didn't matter; he was getting a good fucking, and that was the better part of the deal. That cock was sliding deeper and deeper into his body, and Pebble could feel it rubbing against his prostate just as well as the fingers had. Barbs and all, it made him moan, his cock slowly growing out of his sheath as he was filled.

The jaguar was careful, teasing, only inserting a little bit of his cock at a time. It was pleasurable torture, an inch, two inches, three of that cock. Not too thick, but the way that he used it...oh god, Pebble shuddered at the feelings he managed to stir. He leaned forward, his head resting against the cool bricks, and he whimpered, begging for a little more.

"Whore...slut..."

The words continued from behind, Pebble slowly shutting them out as the cock slid in further and further. Each thrust carried it forward just a bit more, and he sighed happily as he felt it gradually easing that empty feeling inside. Just a bit more...just a bit more...

It took the jaguar five minutes of teasing before he finally gave up and hilted the thing in the lion's ass. Six inches inside; respectable, average, but respectable. He loved it.

Considering how long that it had taken to get the whole thing inside, how long he'd waited, Pebble was ecstatic when the jaguar didn't give him time to adjust; he didn't need it, and it would have been pointless waiting. Instead, his top started pulling back and ramming in hard, frantically fucking him. Heavy, low hanging balls slapped against his ass or against his pants, depending on the exact angle that the jaguar slammed in from, and he could feel the pre in his hole already.

Figuring that the jaguar wasn't going to last long if he was already pre-ing, the lion reached down, grabbing his cock in one hand as he was fucked. It was harder to keep balanced against the brick wall with just one hand, but he wasn't going to not cum.

His strokes and the jaguar's thrusts matched up almost perfectly after a few seconds of getting used to it. Up, down, in; up, down, in; that was the rhythm they found, and it wasn't long before Pebble was stroking his fingers over his own barbs, feeling them hardening, inflating under his fingers just as his cock had. They feathered upwards when his hand went down his cock, and were pressed flat when he brought his hand around his head again.

But it was the filling feeling from behind that he liked the most. Those barbs dragging along his inner walls, the hot feeling of the pre leaking around inside of him...oh gods, he wanted more...

But that was all he was going to get. In minutes, little more than five more past getting the whole thing into Pebble's hole, the jaguar reached his peak. With a loud growl, the feline bit down into the side of Pebble's neck. Not enough to really damage him, but he could feel a little puncture there, a little warm blood running down the side of his neck. Barely anything, but he noted it, needing to make sure that it didn't stain his shirt.

Cum flooded his hole as the jaguar held him there, one hand on his hips and the other against the back of his head. Pebble felt the cum filling his hole, some of it blasting back out around the jaguar's cock. He groaned, really hoping none of it got into his pants, but he would just have to wait and find out. His own orgasm wasn't too far off, and with a little desperate stroking, he pushed himself over the edge, cumming against the wall in thick streams.

They held themselves there for a few seconds, just still and adjusting to the oversensitivity their bodies had, before the jaguar pulled back. The barbs tugged against the lion's hole for a moment before they popped free, and the jaguar chuckled as he pulled his pants back up. "You were good."

"Thanks..." The unsaid 'you weren't' went unheard and unrecognized as the jaguar walked back into the club. Pebble shook his head a bit as he pulled down his pants the rest of the way, checking the back of them for any cum stains. Thankfully, there weren't any, and he pulled them back on with a shake of his head.

That hadn't been quite as good as he'd hoped. The guy was good with his fingers, but when it came to staying power...

"Should have gone for the iguana," he said with a shake of his head. He looked at the door, debating whether he should go in and find someone else for the night, but soon dismissed the idea. The horse and iguana would probably have vented their frustrations on someone else by now, and probably complained to people as well; better to wait for another night and some better prey.

Gathering himself together, he walked out of the alley and started making his way home.

#

Thus went most of his nights at the club. Every day, after school, Pebble managed to get across the city to the club, and spend some time dancing while scoping out his conquest for the night. There were probably rumors going around the people who frequented the club of a young lion slut that offered his ass to people at a whim, but if there were, he never heard them. Not that he really listened that hard; his attention was always on the other males in the club, and seeing how well he could play them against each other for the best lay of the night.

It was the best game in the world to the lion. When he put himself on display, making it clear that he hadn't made his decision of who was going to have him that night, it drove the tops and doms crazy. They always wanted to be the one that went home with him, or took him into the alley, and had their way. He could have any of them, but he always made them go up against each other, competing, driving them wild with need and making them show just how much they wanted him.

Of course, that meant that he had only one person per night, most times, but with the competition, it meant that he usually went home with the best. The jaguar had been a mistake, since he was in a hurry; the others had been far better. Particularly the bull on Thursday; big cock, full balls, and far more stamina than his species usually had.

So went his routine for weeks, and then months. Until...

#

For the first time in weeks, Pebble found himself unable to catch a break on the dance floor. He'd never thought it would happen, but the DJ had picked out a set of music that he just couldn't catch the beat of. Some sort of new techno group that was hitting the scene everywhere, he supposed. They were like all the rest; decent production values, not half bad sound, but the beat was all wrong for a club.

Yet, there were people dancing their asses off along the floors. A pity; there were some hot tops out tonight, and he couldn't lure any of them in with this song set.

At least there was some eye candy for him at the bar, Pebble thought as he made his way around the edge of the dance floor. They were a little more drunk than he usually liked his tops to be, but beggars couldn't always be choosers.

The bartender - a tabby cat with a blue suit - looked at him with a raised eyebrow as he sat down, but didn't say anything. Pebble didn't push for anything, so the bartender didn't really have reason to ask for ID, or anything like that; long as he kept himself quiet and any requests to something that was 'age appropriate', the bartender would keep quiet.

He looked down the line of people at the bar. There weren't that many, honestly, and those that were here didn't quite have the same measure of quality that most of his partners did. A badger with a swollen gut; a rhino that looked like he passed his time getting twinks on his cock by species alone; a rabbit that looked like a jock, a sub that was waiting to be picked up; it was not the most promising.

About the only one that looked good was a wolf that was a few seats down. Dressed in leather pants and a leather jacket, the guy had a piercing through one ear and the front of his nose, almost like a bull. His body bulged against his jacket, tough and rough looking, and when Pebble looked down a little further, he could see that the wolf had a different sort of bulge at the groin, but no less for that, as it pressed at the zipper of those pants as much as the wolf's muscles pressed against his jacket and pants.

As the wolf sipped at his beer, the lion considered his options. The leather crowd wasn't always the best choice, he knew from experience; a good bit of them stank and weren't good for much stamina, generally getting off and leaving him to find his own climax later. Then again, they also had the attitude for putting a sub in their place, something that was getting harder to find outside of the rough crowds.

It could work, as long as he was careful.

Getting up from his seat, Pebble walked down the line. His hips swayed lightly, his pants shifting along his rear, showing off his rump a little better than usual. He smiled as he got closer, letting the wolf get a look at him for a moment before sitting down beside him.

The canine looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but the lion just smiled back. "Looks like you're a little lonely over here," he said with a small smile.

"Not really; got a beer, and that rabbit over there ain't looking too bad for a guy to take home."

Pebble looked around the lion, his eyes narrowing at the rabbit. The other sub was making eyes at the wolf, as well as others on the dance floor, and he could see that the rabbit knew competition when he saw it. Before his eyes, the rabbit actually pulled down the back of his tight shorts, exposing a bit more of his ass.

Well, that was just upping the ante then. Pebble smiled as he turned back to the wolf. "I can do so much more for you than him."

"Yeah?" the wolf asked. He grunted softly as he took another drink. "What are you offering?"

It took a bit of effort to suppress a chuckle, but Pebble did it. He grabbed hold of the wolf's free hand, and dragged it under the bar. He pressed it against his rear, and even pulled his pants back a bit, allowing the wolf's hand to slide inside of his pants. "A nice, tight, submissive ass....for you to pound all night long," the lion whispered.

He felt the wolf's eyes going over him even as he watched them flick around his body. The lion knew this type; they liked the smaller ones, the ones that were eager but smaller, physically easier to dominate. And the schoolboy outfit, he could tell, was only turning the wolf on more. That bulge got bigger as the wolf measured him, and Pebble could tell that he'd already won.

Still, it surprised him when the wolf pushed further into his pants and rubbed a finger against his hole. Pebble actually blushed when the wolf not only continued drinking his beer, but shoved a finger inside of his hole in the process. Hiding his grunt through clenched teeth, the lion remained seated, letting the wolf finger his hole at the bar.

Draining his beer in three big gulps, the wolf slammed the bottle back down on the bar counter. He pulled his finger back from Pebble's pants, and then threw a twenty down on the counter. "Come on, slut," the wolf said. His grip on the lion's arm was strong, massively so, and Pebble had to suppress a wince at the tight grip as he was pulled along. Even to him that was a hard grip, and he was used to powerful tops.

Still...the guy was randy as hell. This could be fun.

#

Ooooor not.

Ropes around his wrists and chains around his ankles kept the lion pinned down to a large table, the wood gouged with claw marks and pitted with things that the lion didn't want to think about. Pebble shuddered at the sight of some of the marks on it, red and dark, and the sight of the bladed tools a few feet away from where he was bound didn't comfort him at all.

The wolf that had brought him here sat on a stool a few feet past where Pebble's feet were, smoking on a cigarette while stroking his cock. He had stripped down shortly after they'd gotten home, and his cock had been as big as Pebble had thought it was, ten inches long and thickly knotted at the base. It looked huge, and in other, better circumstances, would have almost been enough to make him grin in eagerness.

Now, though...

He hadn't expected to be tied up, and at first, he thought that the wolf was just into bondage. But as he'd brought out the knives, and the bowls, and the burning wax...

Struggles had been met with blows, and Pebble could already feel one eye half swollen, and his ribs ached with the blows that had rained down on his chest. He whimpered from the table, shaking his head a few times as he tried to keep himself conscious. The last thing that he needed was to let the wolf do what he wanted without ANY resistance from him. He couldn't just let him win.

Despite that decision, it wasn't like he could do much bound up the way that he was. His clothes were in shreds at the side of the room, laid out in strips from when the wolf had torn them off. His school outfit was gone, as was his underwear. He was completely, totally exposed, and unlike the few other times that he'd done bondage stuff, he didn't like it one bit. The ropes and chain kept him from moving more than a few inches at a time, and then only in one direction, with one limb. They were tight, too, digging into him to a point where he could feel it restricting his circulation, his hands and his feet partially numb from the constriction.

The creepiest thing was that the wolf was completely quiet as Pebble struggled. There was no sign of any remorse; no twitch of worry. Absolutely nothing about the way that the wolf sat or stroked himself showed that he had any nerves about what he was doing. No hesitation.

Pebble had only seen something like this once, and that had been in a crime drama, where some poor sheep girl had been abducted and used until she died. And with everything here...it seemed that might be what was going to happen to him.

Spitting the cigarette out of his mouth and stomping down on it with a heavy boot - the only thing he was still wearing - the wolf got up from his stool. "Well, might as well get in a good use of your ass before I start having the real fun," the wolf said.

"But -"

SMACK!

The wolf's fist nearly shoved Pebble's face in on itself, and the lion felt the crack of his nose breaking at the blow. Screaming in pain, the lion turned his head away from his captor, tears flowing out of his eyes before he could stop them.

"Don't talk, you little shit," the wolf growled. He shook blood off of his fist, letting it splatter onto the lion's chest. "You're just a little fuck toy that I picked up. Heh, that rabbit should be thanking ya; if you hadn't put yourself out like this, it'd be him like this instead of you."

At this point, Pebble almost would have preferred that. He'd just been looking for a good time; why should he be getting his face pounded and his body bruised for that?

The wolf ignored his whimpers, getting up on the table. It shook slightly, creaking in the way of a bed that hadn't been used in a long time - or had been used too much - and the feeling of the wolf's fur rubbing against his almost made Pebble gag. The lion didn't want this; he didn't want to be fucked like this, not by someone that was this...evil.

But he had no choice. He felt the swollen shaft pressing between his rump cheeks, the hot shaft hard and dripping with pre. It was thick, too, bigger than the jaguar all that time ago by far, and even bigger than the bull and the stallion that he'd tried out. Even with the experience he had, the tip felt massive against his hole. It didn't help that he was clenching as tight as he could to try and keep it out, trying to hold it at bay, but there was no way that the lion could make himself relax and take it. He was too scared; he had too much pressing down on him, too much happening at once for him to be able to pull himself together and think with some common sense.

There was no tenderness, or even some little bit of care taken. All the wolf gave him was a fucking, and a hard one at that. Throbbing red, the wolf's cock thrust inside of the lion. Pre was no substitute for lube, and it burned hot as it spread him open. Unable to help himself, Pebble arched his back against the restraints and screamed, yelping and shouting at the pain that continued to fill his ass.

The fist that collided with his face was almost as hard as the first one, only hurting less because it glanced off of his cheekbone rather than hitting him directly on the nose. It still hurt, though, and he could feel something else either broken or severely stressed. In either case, he couldn't stop the whimper of pain from slipping past his lips.

Nothing that he said or did stopped the wolf from using him, though. The massive canine dragged and pulled him in his chains, making the rope dig into his wrists as the wolf pulled him onto his cock and then slamming the manacles around his ankles against him when he was yanked back off. His back scraped against the rough wood under him, and he had to clench his teeth to keep from screaming.

That did nothing to stop the pain from the cock in his ass, however. He had taken large cocks before, but never ones this big, and never this dry. The rasping sound of the wood grinding against his back, the wet slap of flesh on flesh, the growls of the predator on top of him; they should have been arousing, but the situation only made them more terrifying.

The knot bumped up against his hole, and Pebble shuddered at the realization of just how big it was. He'd seen how the wolf hadn't been able to wrap his hands around it, but he hadn't processed the information in his mind to realize what that meant. Thick, hard, and throbbing with a life of its own, the wolf's knot ground against his hole, the already stretched opening straining with its last strength to keep the thing out. It was like the cock had doubled in width, if not more, by the size of the knot, and the lion's face screwed up in both fear and effort as he tried to tighten himself, to keep it out of his hole.

His defiance only earned him a growl from the wolf, and a hand pressed to his throat. Fingers pushed through his mane and grabbed him tight, squeezing around neck hard enough to make him open his eyes again, staring up at the wolf.

"Don't you fucking scream," the wolf growled at him. The fingers tightened, cutting off whatever response that Pebble might have made. "Scream, and I'll rip your throat out."

If he had enough air, Pebble might have been able to defy that order; he might not have had a choice, the way that his body screamed and twitched and jerked in desperate effort to get away from the wolf's cock. Air to move, air to keep conscious, but not enough to scream.

And as that knot pressed harder and harder against his hole, he wanted to scream like he had never wanted to scream before. The girth of the thing, combined with the sheer muscle mass of the wolf that it was attached to, pressed against his hole, and slowly began to force it open. Slowly, but far faster than Pebble ever imagined something that large going inside of him. He shook his head from side to side, lifting his head up and then slamming it back down against the wood, trying in vain to knock himself out so that he wouldn't have to live with this.

Yet, it was for naught. He felt his hole stretching further and further, until it ripped. He heard and felt it at the same time, an ever so quiet ripping sound as well as the feeling of his skin tearing open. It was like a jagged, broken knife had been shoved into his hole and then ripped downwards, pulling the flesh open along the way, and he could feel his own blood running down between his rump cheeks, little drops at first, then thicker lines running down his rear, pooling under his back and matting his fur along the way.

Further and further the knot pressed in, forcing him open wider by the second, and ripping him that much more. The lion's mouth was open in a soundless scream, his claws digging into his palms, his body wracked with pain as he was invaded by the wolf's knot. It was like a physical attack on his body, like a beating that just wouldn't stop.

Through it all, the wolf only grinned at him, licking his lips, teeth bared as he moaned. Pebble could see the glee in the wolf's eyes, the pleasure that only grew hotter for the canine the more pain that the lion was in. The hand around his neck squeezed harder, and for a second, Pebble's vision went blurry as he was nearly choked past what he could take.

Sadly, he wasn't allowed to go unconscious, the hand loosening for the slightest second for him to get the air to stay conscious. He whimpered, the sound silenced just as much as his screams, as the wolf continued to shove forward, forcing the huge ball of a knot further and further into him...opening him more and more....

POPRRP went the knot, popping in and ripping his hole again. Another silent scream ripped its way past Pebble's lips, and a few tears ran down his face, leaving lines along his fur.

He wasn't sure if they turned the wolf on more, or if he was just that close after jerking himself to the bound lion for that long, but it didn't take much time for his captor to cum. The feeling of all that wolf seed splattering around inside of him was disgusting. Even the purely physical spark of pleasure that normally came from a bad top when they came was absent here, drowned under pain and the lack of oxygen in his system.

The wolf yanked himself out, and Pebble's ravaged throat found the energy to scream again, just a little squeak getting past his lips as the knot was wrenched from his hole. Blood and cum mixed together as they rolled out of him, pulling under his body and slowly rolling down a bit, the slope of the table carrying it away from him slowly but surely.

The both of them panted at the end of it, the wolf in apparent pleasure, Pebble simply for the desire to get his breath back after the wolf let go of his neck. He hadn't realized how close he was to falling unconscious, how near the edge the wolf had held him, until the hand was removed.

Even as they panted though, Pebble could see that the wolf wasn't done. He grinned as he walked around the table, coming around to Pebble's left side. The lion could only watch as his rapist leaned down, mouth open and drooling...

And took a bite out of the lion's side.

Eyes wide as the shock hit before the pain, Pebble stared as a chunk of his chest and pectoral muscles were just RIPPED away. The blood, the ripped skin, the torn muscles, the fur that fell in patches as it was ripped away; it was like he was being eaten by a feral predator.

And then the pain hit. The ripping, burning, bloody pain of his body being taken apart. He could feel the bites along his flesh, the wolf adjusting his jaws with repeated bites to try and get a better grip on him. The piercing, penetrating teeth digging deep into places that they were never, ever meant to go. The lion screamed, unable to stop himself, no matter the consequences, and he thrashed around, no matter how bad an idea it was. He felt the skin tear, felt his muscles be ripped away from his body.

It was finally enough pain. His body couldn't take anymore, and he slumped back, driven into darkness by the wolf's powerful jaws.

#

He'd descended into hell. That was the only thing Pebble could think of over the next two weeks.

The wolf was no master; he was a monster. He never said his name, never said anything about where they were. The only things he ever said were commands, and almost half of them were the command to be silent, a command that Pebble could almost never fulfill.

Never allowed to be free from the table he'd started on, the lion was abused and tortured daily. His body was nothing but a toy for the wolf...well, toy and a source of food. Various bite and knife marks scarred his body, and it depended entirely on the predator's mood whether he would slice his 'meat' free from the lion's body with the knives he kept nearby, or if he would simply bite it free. The latter was more painful, but not by much. Crude bandages were slapped on afterwards, as though that was enough to keep him from dying or bleeding out.

Somehow, they were, and there were times when Pebble almost wished that they weren't good enough. He had fist sized bandages slapped in four places along his chest, one in the back of his left thigh, and two more in his arms. Bruises the size of the wolf's fist - and the lion's hand when his fingers were stretched out and fanned - dotted Pebble's body, over his face, chest, stomach, and back. He knew there were broken bones along his body, but he'd long since lost track of just which bones were broken.

His world became little more than pain and fear. The mere presence of the wolf made him cringe, pulling in on himself as much as the chains would allow, knowing that it would never be enough, knowing that if he was lucky, he would only get the pain of the knife rather than the teeth. His hole burned almost constantly, barely getting the chance to scab over before it was ripped open again by the wolf's knot. His back and his legs were smeared with cum and blood, making his charcoal gray fur something...nasty.

Yet...

Despite all this, despite the pain, and the fear, and the feeling of starvation growing every day, there was something else that filled the lion. It started small, but gradually grew stronger with each passing day. It was so small that it was easily buried at first, but as it grew, it needed to be hidden.

Rage. Rage and hatred filled the lion in equal measure, burning at the fear more and more each day. His jaws and teeth hurt from how hard he clenched his teeth, as much to keep himself from shouting threats at the wolf as to keep from screaming in pain.

Pebble didn't know how. He didn't know when. But soon...soon, the wolf was going to die. It might be followed by his death seconds later, but he WOULD take that wolf with him.

Days passed, and the bandages continued to spread across his body. The lion weakened a little more each day, even as his anger got stronger, and his body showed the signs of starvation. The wolf likely planned him to die from it, either from losing his body to starvation or to the canine's own hunger, and his wasting body was in a race with the parts being bitten away.

Until the day when the shackles no longer were tight enough to hold him down...and Pebble realized, the time had come for him to finally take his revenge.

#

The lion moved on quiet pads as he pulled himself out of the chamber. He could barely walk, leaning against the wall when he had managed to pull himself off of the floor. In his hand was one of the many knives that were kept in the torture room, and it was red with his blood, dried on it for a day or two. It seemed an appropriate enough weapon to kill the wolf with, in the lion's mind.

He was almost surprised to see an opulent hallway outside of the torture room; the floor was covered in a red carpet, leading down in two directions. Various portraits lined the high walls, leading up to a glass ceiling. The moonlight pouring through confirmed that it was deep into the evening, if not the night itself, but the moon was just a sliver away from being dark, barely giving any illumination.

He didn't need it. His body might be broken, but his eyes were still the eyes of his species. Lions were hunters just as much as wolves, and tonight, he was going to remind his captor what happened when you did...this...to a lion.

But first, he had to find him, and he needed to do it fast, before the wolf decided to get up and pay him another visit. His only advantage was surprise, and he couldn't afford to squander that.

Pebble made his way down the hall to the left, leaning against the wall as he limped along. His legs had fortunately been spared any broken bones, but the chunk of muscle that had been ripped out of the back of his left leg made walking impossible without some sort of support. His claws dug into the walls as he pulled himself along, sometimes ripping through this portrait or that, ruining them. He didn't care about the damage; if he was caught, then it was some final measure of defiance, and if he won, they would be destroyed anyway.

He paused at the end of the hall, a great door shutting him out of the next room. Turning his head and looking back, making sure that there were no servants or anything around, Pebble approached it slowly. Pulling himself along the wall until he was against the door, he fumbled for the knob, and slowly turned it.

It opened silently for him, and he slipped inside before the light had more than a second to spill through the open gap. The darkness was deeper inside of the room, but Pebble could still just make out the silhouette on the bed in the center of the room.

He panted softly at the unmistakable shape of the wolf; the muscles, the snout, the sheer size of the canine body, they were all the clues that he needed to know it was his captor. Pebble tightened his grip on the knife's blade, and slowly lowered himself to the ground. There was no way to crawl along the walls to make it to the wolf without making too much noise. He'd have to crawl instead.

Thankfully, the carpet was smooth under his belly. He could feel the bandages coming loose as the friction started to rub against them, but the lion didn't dare move any faster, or any slower. If he screwed this up, if he made even one mistake, then he would be tied up again, and this time, there would be no getting free. There would be no chance to get out.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled himself along the ground. He put the knife between his teeth, pulling himself along with his one unbroken arm, his good leg giving him a little push forward when it could. His teeth gritted tight around the knife handle, stifling his grunts of pain as best as he could.

One bandage slid off, and he felt a warm gush of blood as the wound re-opened. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head, and he jammed his tongue against his teeth to keep himself from letting go of consciousness. No, he told himself; not yet.

He left a red trail along the ground as he made his way to the bed, grabbing hold of the legs at the head of the bed to lift himself up. The weakened lion was huffing and puffing by the time that he was upright, and he had to lean against the bed to stay upright when he took the knife from between his teeth.

From here, in the slightest light from one of the windows, the wolf looked almost...normal. The terrifying grin he wore during their 'sessions', the blood that almost always dotted his lips was gone; the occasional flicker of moonlight lent a sliver of good looks to him, and made Pebble remember why he'd considered him a decent partner for the night all those days ago.

For a moment, he hesitated.

The wolf rolled lightly in his sleep, exposing his side to the lion. His neck, his heart, his face; all of them were in easy reach. He continued to hesitate. Could he...could he kill?

A soft growl escaped the wolf's mouth. It might have been something from a dream, might have been something that meant nothing. But to Pebble, it brought back all the rapes, all the bites, all the pain from the room. All that he had gone through...while the wolf slept here, and presented a completely normal image to the rest of the world. He had lived through hell, while this monster lived in luxury.

No more.

The first cut was clumsy; it didn't kill the wolf, just cut a line along his neck. The canine woke up, burbling as the blood started running out of his neck, but the cut wasn't deep enough to kill him immediately. Pebble growled as the wolf turned to face him again, and gripped the knife in a two handed grip.

"You?!" the wolf gargled through his blood.

"Me." Raising the knife above his head, Pebble brought the knife down hard. The wolf's arm, hastily thrown up, diverted the stab downwards enough so that it didn't hit the wolf in the chest. Instead, it stabbed through the wolf's fingers, and went right into his throat.

A wet howl filled the room as the wolf's eyes went wide. The other male was big enough that Pebble was worried that the canine was going to be able to do something back to him before the knife could carry him off, but the knife had the pinned one hand to the wolf's throat, and the other hand was too busy trying to tug it free to be able to do anything to the feline.

Falling from the bed, Pebble landed on his back with a shout of pain, and watched the wolf frenziedly try and tear the knife away from his neck.

His captor's death took a full minute, and through it all, the wolf howled and thrashed and yelped in pain. The knife thrust must have lodged the blade into the bones of the spine, because it didn't come free no matter how hard the canine pulled on it. The hand pinned to his throat ensured that he wouldn't bleed out too fast, and yet, the process was inevitable. A slow grin crossed the lion's face as he watched the red spread through the pinned fingers, flowing down the wolf's body, staining that fur red with his own blood, just like Pebble's had been over the endless days of torture.

The wolf turned to him at the end, eyes clueless, as if he couldn't understand how this had happened. Pebble didn't say anything; nothing would have mattered. All he did was watch as the wolf slumped over with one last pathetic howl, falling on the bed with the knife still buried in his throat.

It was...right.

Pebble slowly pulled himself back to the bed. He fumbled around, eventually finding a long stick. The wolf had brought a walking stick into the room one time, using it to hit him for a while; at least this time it would be used for what it was made for. Putting it in front of him with his good arm, the lion walked out of the room. He only paused for a second at the doorway, turning to look at the wolf's corpse. Spitting on the ground, the bleeding lion made his way out. He was free...now he just had to stay alive.

#

The night was quiet, but at least the street lights were still on. The lion was able to figure out where he was without much trouble once he got off of the grounds of the wolf's mansion. Center of town; too far to get to the local hospital, and who would believe what happened to him there, anyway? It was so hard to believe, so terrible, he couldn't believe it himself.

No. Better...something closer. A rabbit's place. A vet, named Pan, a rabbit friend. Might be able to patch him up, if he could get there.

Limping along, barely able to keep upright with the help of the walking stick, Pebble made his way down the various empty streets. The late hour ensured that no one was out and about, no one to call someone due to his nudity and the blood running down his body. No longer all of it his, but enough of it to make him worried. His head spun, making his steps all the more erratic.

Turn down this street, walk down that one. The lights on the street lamps blurred as he kept walking, and the lion almost tumbled down to the pavement several times. He almost wished that someone would see him, even if they called the cops on him rather than getting an ambulance. It would mean that he could get out of this, could find some rest, rather than battering himself more and more with every step.

Cross here, around the park. A few people saw him there, but they weren't the sort that would call anyone. Too illegal, their business, to call for anyone.

As he finally reached the right street, Pebble's legs broke down. The lion slumped to the ground with a thump, crying out in pain as his broken arm collided with the sidewalk. He roared, the first time he'd been able to do anything beyond a whimper in days. A few flickers of lights further down the street almost made him think that someone would take notice, but just like before, the lights went out again.

Curling up as much as his battered body would allow, Pebble closed his eyes as he fought the tears threatening to break free. He had gotten...so close. He had gotten out, had killed the wolf. Had walked all the way down here. Why...why couldn't he get up? Why couldn't he make it?

The familiar darkness that too much pain, too much blood loss brought on started to close around him. For a few moments, Pebble fought it, but soon, he just stopped. What was the point? He...he had lost.

As the darkness closed in, he thought he felt a grip on his shoulders. A hallucination, he thought, and then lost himself.

#

When he opened his eyes, he almost felt blinded by the light that poured over him. Pebble whimpered, instinctively lifting his arm against the light, and growled at the pain that lanced through him. Not as bad as before, not so bad at all, but still enough to hurt a lot.

"Don't move yet," a soft voice said. "You're splinted up, but I'm still making you a cast. If I had my way, I'd put you in a full body one, but after seeing you on the streets...I don't think you could take that."

Turning his head, Pebble saw the white rabbit that he'd been looking for. Pan was washing up several tools, some red running through the faucet water as he washed it clean. There must have been a lot for the rabbit to work on, considering how hurt he felt right now.

The lion looked down at himself, and winced.

His left leg was wrapped up from top to bottom, and his chest was in a giant gauze wrap. He could feel the sting that went with opened flesh and disinfectant rubbed along injuries. The only things that DIDN'T hurt as much were his broken arm and ribs. They were set, at least, so that they didn't hurt quite so much when he moved around...as much as he could move at this point.

Much as it still hurt, at least he was somewhere where he could start healing. Pebble lowered his head back down to the table, the metal soothingly cool against his body. He let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes to block out some of the light above.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Pan asked.

The lion shook his head. "No...not yet, at least.."

"Alright." The rabbit's footsteps were just audible as he approached, and Pebble grunted at the feeling of a needle sliding into his arm. "I'm giving you a sedative; just enough to sleep while I deal with the rest of your injuries. You'll be a long time recovering...a LONG time."

He didn't care; he was going to live, and that was all that mattered.

#

The healing process was just as long as the rabbit had implied. Kept in the vet's office for the first week until he was safe to transfer, Pebble found himself in a vet bed and then a hospital one for a full three months before he was allowed to leave. And even then, they were hoping he'd stay around for more therapy, but by that point, the lion was so sick of the sterile environments that he had to get up.

Besides, while he was resting, healing, and undergoing different medical procedures, Pebble had nothing to do but think, and there were many thoughts running through the lion's head.

Why had this happened to him? He'd done nothing different than what he did every night, talking to various tops and finding one to have fun with. He'd never actually had anything bad happen to him before. He'd never heard of it happening before, except in rumors, and then he'd only thought it was someone making stuff up for the fun of it.

Did it happen to other people? It was possible; if it had happened to him, it had to have happened before. In all the time that people had been giving others pleasure like he did, he couldn't have been the first to be kidnapped like that. Tortured. Mutilated. Eaten. Eaten might have been a new one, actually; he'd have to ask. Never did, but he had thought he might.

But the most important question, at least to Pebble, was different to all the others.

WHY had the wolf done this?

It was the question that stuck in his mind the most. Why had the wolf kidnapped him and treated him like that? Other doms had been rough, others had hurt him, but never like that. What happened to turn a sexy enough wolf into a monster like that one had been? Why? How?

He had no answers, and he knew there was no one that he was still in touch with that would be able to tell him anything. No sub could ever know the answer of why a dom would do something like that.

He wanted to let the question go, but just like the rage had overwhelmed his fear, the question overwhelmed his mind. The question burned at his consciousness, and his dreams were filled with what-ifs and whys. Why had this happened? Why had the wolf been the way that he had been? What twisted someone so much that they would abuse those below them so much?

The questions kept coming and coming, and there was no way for him to stop them. No way to answer them. And they were the biggest reason for why he couldn't stay at the hospital.

He left to discover the answers.

Gathering supplies and what money he had left, Pebble said goodbye to Pan, and what other few boys that he still knew were around. They were confused as to why he was leaving, and he had no answers for them, just like he had no answers for himself. This would be a journey for more than just him, he supposed.

Getting on one of the first buses out of the city, Pebble found a seat...and set out on his quest.