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Frederick scrubbed hard at the stones of the old monster-merging altar. He still thought it was strange that Grandpa had had access to such a thing from the comfort of his own home, and that, moreover, he had managed to have access to it for years and years without telling the IMA a word about it. This was the sort of ancient technology the Association demanded to know about, after all - it was considered dangerous if not properly regulated.

Not that Grandpa had ever cared that much about what the IMA officials thought. His legacy had been a shady one, and had gotten Frederick into more than his fair share of trouble already, and he was only twenty-three, having been a monster rancher since inheriting the farm at nineteen.

"Gramps, I just don't get it," the young man said, his arms straining as he scrubbed some sort of gunky residue off the left-side platform. "You could've just used a modern fusion lab for combining your monsters... why'd you bother keeping up this old thing?"

Then again, since Grandpa had always been one for archaeology, perhaps the sheer convenience and novelty of being able to merge monsters on his own property had been enough to inspire him to do all of this maintenance. Perhaps merging creatures in secret appealed to him as well. Though, Frederick had no idea why - it wasn't as if Grandpa had ever achieved any major notoriety in the Monster Battle Cups, or shown the world new types of monster combinations.

Couple that with Grandpa having disappeared years ago (along with his then-current monster, a simple Zuum), and merely been presumed dead by the authorities, and the whole thing reeked of weirdness. Frederick generally tried not to think too much of it, though: the family theory was that Grandpa had gone off on some ruin-exploring expedition and not made it back alive. As well as anyone could tell, that probably would have been his preferred way to go.

So Frederick had inherited the farm, and every now and then engaged in boring maintenance like this one!

The ancient merging altar used the classic left, right, and center design. The stone platforms on the left and right would convert two monsters into pure energy when activated by a machine at the front of the room. Then the energies would get blown together onto the center platform, which would encourage their energies to mingle and resolidify, resulting in a merged monster. The process was totally irreversible, but it could mercifully be used on aging monsters to keep them from death and allow their genetic legacy to continue on in a roundabout way.

Whether or not merged monsters retained much from the minds of the merging creatures was always a subject of intense academic debate, and even now there were no clear answers other than popular anecdotes and wives' tales.

Frederick didn't really care. He loved his aging Tiger as much as any rancher would, but he didn't expect to get to keep interacting with the monster as if nothing had changed once its health got bad enough that merging was required as the only alternative to simply letting it die.

The Tiger's health, admittedly, was not looking too good of late. In truth, Frederick found himself polishing up the old altar mostly because he was considering using it for a change. He would find some way to sneak a new monster back here, and do the merge himself, just for kicks and giggles. If any questions came up, he could explain it to the IMA somehow.

The sound of pawpads at the cavernous entrance to the old shrine told him that the Tiger had apparently been thinking of him as well.

Tigers were one of the more interestingly mis-named species of monster, in Frederick's opinion. He would have thought it more appropriate to at least name them "Tigerwolf," since the species looked far more canine than feline, along with having a pair of imposing, ram-like horns on its head that could discharge bolts of electricity at-will. Its fur, as for all purebred Tigers, was predominantly blue with a secondary smattering of white that accentuated its muzzle and paws.

"Hey buddy!" Frederick called, pausing his cleaning for a moment and beckoning the monster toward him. The Tiger obeyed and stepped slowly forward, negotiating down the large stone steps of the shrine's entrance. It paused momentarily to sniff at the other flight of steps leading from the machine consoles up toward the center platform, and then plodded over to the left side platform where Frederick was cleaning. Affectionate lickings and soft whines soon followed, along with a look of wintry desperation in the old Tiger's eyes.

"Hey buddy," said Frederick, running his fingers through the monster's mane of dark-blue fur. A wave of guilt rolled through him as he heard and felt the Tiger cough beside him. The cough had been an early warning sign that all wasn't well, but the monster veterinarians had all agreed it was just a sign of its age, and of all of the heavy training Frederick had put it through. Frederick had never been an outright abusive trainer, but he did always push his monster pretty hard. Even though he loved it and cared for it, he wanted it to win... it had to win in order for him to make enough money for the ranch to succeed in the first place.

"It's okay buddy," Frederick said, not sure whether he was reassuring the Tiger or himself. "Soon we'll get you into a younger, fresher body, okay? You don't wanna die, right?"

The Tiger nuzzled against his chest, and Frederick gave it a big hug around the neck, careful to avoid the horns as he lay his face against the bridge of its muzzle. It didn't take long before Frederick found his eyes watering.

"I don't want you to have to go either," he admitted. "You're my first monster. I've made so many mistakes with you. You didn't deserve them! But I don't know what I'm doing. I still don't. Monster Ranching is hard, and...."

The Tiger nuzzled more firmly against him, as if understanding what he had said. The pressure of nose against chest felt relieving to Frederick as he sat their running his fingers through the fluffy mane more and more, his tears slowly running down. He put his rag and bucket of water aside on the platform's steps, leaned down, and committed to a much longer hugging of his old friend.

When Frederick finally let go, the Tiger wagged happily and spun around with an energy belying its age. Then it began panting happily like a dog and hobbled off down the steps toward the machines, looking contented. Frederick couldn't help but laugh.

"Even at death's door you're happy to be hugged. Thank you, old friend."

Frederick got back to work scrubbing, letting the Tiger wander around the room behind him. He didn't think anything of it. Perhaps he should have. Perhaps that would have been responsible... but he didn't. He zoned into his cleaning work, caught between scrubbing and a long list of memories of time spent and battles won with his dear Tiger companion.

So caught up, in fact, that he didn't notice when the Tiger walked over to the machine and began sniffing around at its controls, bumping a few buttons in the process. Then it got its horns caught against an innocent-looking old lever, which it shoved into the "ON" position in the process of jerking its head around to get its horns out.

To Frederick's confusion, he felt a sudden tingling sensation on his spine. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his Tiger hobbling over toward the right-side platform, which shined with an otherworldly glow of light that seemed to demand the elderly monster's attention. Frederick felt strange and lightheaded, dropped his rag down on the nearby stairs, but soon found himself disoriented and unable to keep his balance.

The light around the altar was interfering with his very nerves, keeping him from proper motor coordination. He tried to walk away but fell to the ground instead, his arms and legs like pasta noodles as he flailed around to try to regain his footing and ultimately felt as if perhaps he was having some kind of seizure. To top it all off, he felt an embarrassing flame of enforced sexual arousal as the energy's disruption of his nerves finally found its way into his loins. He felt like someone was directly tickling his prostate, even though he didn't even have an erection yet. He feared he was going to lose control even of that - feared he might ejaculate uncontrollably all over his undergarments. Even fear itself soon became difficult, however, as the energies took ever-firmer hold of his nerves.

Then his Tiger stepped the rest of the way into the light on the other side, and Frederick's world exploded into a flash of stars, space, and color.

* * *

The unconscious Frederick didn't know it - because he was currently unconscious - but he had just stumbled upon one of the biggest reasons why fusion technology was legally restricted.

Within moments, however, unconsciousness gave way to something new - something vibrant - something... blue. Very blue. The whole world was blue. He was blue. He was... large, lithe, full of potential, being reborn in a burst of ancient magic and energy. His old age would cause him no more problems here, and he would finally get the chance to thank Frederick for the years of care, inept although it sometimes was.

Thank myself? he found himself thinking, his form still nothing more than a ball of raw power. That doesn't seem right. Yet, weirdly enough, it did seem right.

The blue light swelled and took shape - a humanoid shape, but with two great prongs sticking up from its head. The shrine's efforts intensified, and soon the blue energies regained physical form, human and Tiger life force blending together into a symphony of new vitality. He thrust his forming limbs outward - felt the leathery pawpads of his feet strike the chilly stone of the floor, groaned in his thoughts as the lean sinews of his arms flared into existence and flexed in triumph. A set of thick claws surged forth from the tips of his digits; his chest and core solidified and came into phase, his eager Tigerman heart happy to live again. Legs and loins finished their returns as well, his sheathless but blue-foreskinned member hanging down over his blue-furred sack at a surprisingly large unerect size, with a pleasurable sensitivity that was evident to his nerves from the moment they reconnected.

Meanwhile, his head, strangely slow to resolve, finished pushing its way back into the physical realm, his face an imposing blend of human ingenuity and Tiger fury and resolve. His eyes and sensitive nose took in the room in front of him, his gaze keen and discerning, his nose immediately picking up the attractive scent of his own fluff, and disdaining and ignoring the chemical odor of the cleaning bucket that even now wafted over to this central platform of the altar.

He found his tail wagging, and knew that he had a tail. Its tufts waved sensitively in the breeze created by his own movements. He felt the liberating pleasure of its blood flow, and the interesting and dependable counterweight of its bulk. It felt at once like an old friend and a new acquaintance, its muscles warm and ready to express his joy.

"Now, I need to thank you," he said aloud to himself, his voice and body seeming to act on its own as his hands wasted no time moving down to caress his own genitals and belly. "Look how beautiful you are, how strong we are." The wagging quickened.

The Tigerman gave his long-yet-flaccid member an exploratory squeeze, teasing back the foreskin and rolling it up and down, feeling blood pumping into the shaft in massive surges than a human body could never hope to achieve. His penis ballooned outward, more than doubling its girth over the course of the next several seconds and gaining several more centimeters of length. The foreskin stretched and twinged at the organ's swelling, peeling back with forced haste as the girth peaked, the beastly cock now nearly ten centimeters around, a perfect monster for his big, strong handpaws to wrangle.

He couldn't help staring down his own long, black-nosed muzzle at his eager masturbation, watching his own white-furred chest rise and fall with rapid, panting breaths as that beautiful thick member throbbed and swelled hotly within his grasp, his lovely arms flexing and stroking with soothing beauty as he tugged himself into a deep well of pleasures.

"You used to be so lonely," his deep, guttural voice explained as his dominant hand worked firmly up and down his shaft and his other hand focused on kneading his increasingly heavy balls. "I would smell it on you when you came out in the mornings, your lack of a mate, your self-stimulation... your yearning for a peer in your life." Now he thrust his hips eagerly into his paw, which he was curling into a makeshift sexual hole, while his scrotum began subtly rising and tightening, drawing his balls up in line with the fleshy impacts of the thrusts.

"Let me give you everything you desire," the Tigerman said seductively, "as you have also shown a loving heart in caring for me."

With equal candor to the confident voice that had been giving the explanations, the Tigerman now moaned out, "Ahhh!!" as he felt himself go weak at the knees. Already something was brewing within his loins, the nerves within him tingling as his plumbing filled with fluids. His ankles arched upward, his pawpads pressing hard against the brick floor, his butt and back rising and his new tail wagging as the muscles within him worked double-time on moving his seed. His thrusting and masturbating quickened; his offhand slid up to stroke his belly once more, teasing at the spot where a belly-button would have been, but was no longer. A potent shock of blue electricity surged between the twin prongs of his horns - and his first climax as a Tigerman arrived.

And what a climax it was! The horny man-beast's shaft gave a sudden throbbing bulge as its tip opened and semen fountained outward. The first shot arced forward and covered a distance of about a meter before dropping onto the floor, its substance splattering into dozens of tiny bloblets on the merge chamber's floor. Even with just that first shot, the tigerman's nerves flared wildly, his brain's pleasure centers overloading with a heartier chemical cocktail than the human had been accustomed to - and that was only the beginning! The second shot came a split second later, a thick and streaming spurt that launched more than three meters in front of him, its distance a product of the sharp contractions of his powerful groin muscles. Before the second shot could even hit the ground, the next one fired - then another, and another, and another!

"Rrragh! YES!" he intoned, his voice growly and primal. His padded white hands gripped his throbbing shaft all the more, his pleasure-stricken mind eager to feel his swollen rod throbbing in its glory. Acting on a hunch, he gave the shaft some additional rubs and soon found his pleasure increasing fivefold - whatever kind of refractory period he had, it wasn't severe enough to make rubbing during an orgasm feel overwhelming. The pleasure grew and grew, but remained totally within his grasp. Faster and faster he stroked, his horns erupting bolt after erratic bolt of bluish electricity while his balls drew ever tighter against his loins and his shaft ejected wave after impossibly large wave of his seed.

Unable or unwilling to hold back, he found himself actively jacking once again. Each firm stroke of his supple, leathery hands seemed to reload his ejaculatory clock with one more moment of bliss, one more heartbeat of throbbing, cum-expelling ecstasy. Gradually the volume of semen waned, and his scrotum drew his balls up against him so tightly that it nearly hurt, but he didn't care: he was going to milk himself dry right here, right now, and roar for all the world to hear. He loved to watch the white globs firing like so many pieces of military cannon; he reveled in the throbbing feel of the cock in his hands, the smooth strength of his forearms....

"RRRRAAAAAAAAOORRRR!!" he declared, a final enormous spark of lightning surging forth from his horns and blasting an impressive divot in the chamber's stone ceiling. The crumbling brick pebbles falling down around him only made him feel that much more satisfied. He continued jacking his cock with all the speed he could muster, feeling the burn slowly building in the shoulder and lean bicep of his dominant hand. Opening his mouth and panting, he could also feel his ejaculation drying up: scarcely more than a dribble emerged with each orgasmic wave now, but still he pressed onward.

"Heavy training," he murmured to himself. "Always heavy training. Hnn...."

After several more seconds of this rigorous orgasm extending, the tigerman's ferocious shaft finally found its peace. His hands slowed their working, and he reclined on the stone steps leading down from the central platform, feeling relief in his tired, overtightened balls as their soft blue sack rested against the coolness of the stone. His head leaned to one side, his face a picture of satisfaction, the electric energy flow in his horns now harmonious and smooth, causing their surface to glimmer with power but not discharge. His tongue lolled slightly from his mostly closed mouth; his panting came slow and evenly. His offhand pressed and caressed the top of his scrotum while the dominant gave the shaft some final, conciliatory rubs, its friction-heated flesh still throbbing energetically with every stimulating touch.

"Th-thank... you..." he said to himself, feeling strange, and very nearly unable to speak at all. "Didn't want to die and... leave you... mnnnn."

His thoughts resolved into stillness, his mind as silent as the ranch's backyard pond at dawn. Breaths made his chest rise and fall, rise and fall, as monster and master slept together for the first of many times.

Story (C) 2013 dolphinsanity. Tiger/Rygar monster design and the Monster Rancher/Monster Farm franchise belongs to Tecmo Koei.