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The Lion's Bitch By Draconicon

Salla sighed as he walked around the various businessmen he'd assembled for today's meeting. Most of them were familiar - Barnum, the bat in charge of the city's news radio; Weston, the rabbit who worked the city's newspaper; Tristan and his regiment of aids, head of the city council coalition - but there were a few that were not, and were unaccustomed to the way he worked. They'd come around, the mouse was sure, but for the moment they were providing him a headache.

He took a moment to look away from the meeting table to gaze out of at the city. The sun was on the verge of setting, and he could make out a collection of apartment buildings on the border between the inner and outer city. Among them was a familiar structure, slightly taller and definitely thinner than the others, and his thoughts went to one of the residents there. A lion he'd contracted, but hadn't had the time or the inclination to call in just yet. Tonight might just have given him the reason he needed to call him, considering the stress his business associates were putting him through.

He looked out the window for a bit longer, collecting himself for the rest of the meeting. Being at least half a foot shorter than anyone else at the table was not the most encouraging thing for anybody, even for someone used to it like he was. The red suit he wore bordered on distasteful, but everything he wore, from his fedora hat to the white mask to the suit itself were of the finest quality. His 'ornamental' cane sparkled with a fist sized jewel on the tip, just one more sign of his wealth and his status. Even these people would have to admit he stood a little higher than them, at the very least, even if they were getting out of control and frustrated.

Resolving to hold the meeting somewhere less public next time - where he would have more control, and where people would be less likely to just complain - the red suited, masked mouse turned back to the table. The hotel meeting room was packed, giving him yet another reason to want another location. Maybe if the people were a little less cramped, they would have been a bit more accommodating to his wishes.

As it was...well, he'd manage. He always did.

"Gentlemen, it's been a few months since we were last gathered here. I was hoping to see a little more enthusiasm the last time we met up."

"Considering that you're the one that got us here through your little 'favors', I don't know how you expect any of us to be happy to be here."

The five foot tall mouse narrowed his eyes at the weasel. That was Hamilton, one of the newer people to the group. He didn't have any official standing in the city, no business that actually pulled in profits or offered 'real' journalism to people, but he was one of the most popular internet personalities in the city, with a great deal of watchers checking in on his writings and posts by the hour. Salla wasn't a stupid man, and had known that a person like that needed controlling just as much as the standard news outlets.

Still, it would be better not to let an angry attitude fester. The rodent walked around the table to stand behind Hamilton, deliberately chuckling as he leaned forward.

"Oh, don't be coy, Hammy. Sure, I might have your home's deed bought up and information on every little secret of your life, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to push you to do anything wrong. I just want you to talk with me about the blogging and video-producing you do before you go to the site with them. And in return, well, just how much has your bank account swelled since we talked?"

"..."

"About fifty thousand in the last month, if I'm not mistaken?"

"...Yes."

"Good. So let's not pretend you're not getting anything out of it."

He patted the weasel on the shoulder before walking around the table again, glancing at the other valuable members of the 'council' he'd established here. Hamilton was the most vocal about his annoyance, but he wasn't the only one that needed to be dealt with. Tristan looked like he'd need a reminder of who was in charge from the way he barely hid a sneer, and Salla would just bet that Barnum was looking for another boost of his own accounts. The mouse could afford it, but he needed to keep an eye on them so that they didn't lose that need to keep coming back to him.

After circling the table, he moved in front of the window. The setting sun would frame him well for a speech, and might even add a little motivating factor to his next instructions. Even if it didn't, it would look cool, and he preferred that.

Just as he opened his mouth, the door slammed open. A doberman bodyguard fell through the doorframe after it, the canine hitting the ground hard and clutching a wound on his chest, screaming. Salla half expected to hear a gunshot or two from the hallway - his mind already calculating the damages needed paying for this and how to keep it quiet - but instead there was utter silence.

After a moment or two, a lion stepped through the door. It wasn't just any lion, but the very lion that he had put on retainer three weeks ago and had been thinking of calling on later tonight. He was a very tall specimen of feline power, with a suit that barely seemed able to contain the muscles of his chest and legs. He had charcoal gray fur that was immaculately groomed, and his darker mane stood out like a well groomed ruff of fur.

The lion tossed an ice pack towards Weston the rabbit, nodding his head towards the wounded canine as his tail twitched behind him. It was faint, but Salla just barely made out a splatter of red on a spike hidden within the tuft of fur on the lion's tail tip.

"Get that on him and call for an ambulance, and he'll live."

Weston obeyed the lion faster than the mouse expected, but the large male didn't bother watching. He circled the table until he stood at the mouse's side. There was a split-second stare down before the lion slugged him in the stomach, grabbing him as he bent over and slinging the rodent over his shoulder. Salla could barely breathe as he was slammed down, grunting softly as his head hung half down the lion's back. He swayed back and forth as the lion turned to the table.

"Fellows, this meeting is on hold, the mouse and I have personal matters to speak of. He'll get back with you in a day or so."

With that the lion was off, striding out of the room as the businessmen stared in shock. Salla couldn't blame them. He barely had the opportunity to wrap his head around what had just happened, which was a bit of a first with him. It had been a long time since someone had the sheer cockiness to step into one of his business meetings like this and interrupt it, and longer since anyone had actually come up and punched him in the gut over something. He shook his head, trying to clear it as he worked to get his lungs full of air again.

As they stepped into the hallway, he saw that the guards weren't going to be an obstacle for the 'employee' lion. Most of the guards were either bruised or bleeding, though none of them were as bad off as the one that had been kicked through the door. He shook his head at the sight. With all the money that he paid them, he would have thought they'd be at least a little better at slowing someone down.

Then again, he had put money on the lion's services for the very reason that he was exceptional. Most people wouldn't have guessed the lion's chimera blood, and that would have led to most of the guards underestimating him. He'd have to make sure that they were better informed next time. He spun his cane slightly before tapping it against the lion.

"You might not know how our specific contract works, Pebble, but it doesn't really involve carrying off your employer. Now, are you going to put me down, or do I need to call -"

The lion's tail wrapped around his cane and threw it away with startling force. It slammed against one of the nearby hotel doors, the gem momentarily shimmering before the door turned from wood to steel. Salla would have complained, but no sooner had his cane been taken than the lion turned around and slapped him. It wasn't a small one, either, the blow enough to set his head to ringing and making him dizzy. Pebble plopped him back onto his shoulder.

"Hush." Pebble turned to the people following them. "Boys, he's going to be just fine, but you are not following us where we are going, otherwise I'll put my tailspike though your eyes. Relax, your boss is going to be back bossing you bitches around by late tonight."

Pebble dropped his voice, looking over his shoulder at the mouse.

"As for you, I'll put you down when we get to the bedroom and not before. You can call all the goons you want, but they're more likely to hit themselves than me."

As Pebble kicked open a doorway and started taking the stairs, Salla sighed. He rested his head on a hand as he bounced up and down on the lion's shoulder as they ascended the stairs, shaking his head a few times. This was most irregular behavior for an employee to have. Admittedly the take charge attitude wasn't bad. In fact, at another time he might have enjoyed it - at least, more than the semi-erection in his suit indicated he was now - but that had been embarrassing. The amount of bribes he'd have to give to get the circle to forget this would be staggering.

"Sir, I see that you're being carried off. Shall I muster a few squads of men to come and retrieve you?"

That was Sollon coming through the earbud of his mask. The rat would have been monitoring things, he supposed. His butler was always on the ball. He considered the offer, but shook his head, pressing a finger to the base of his mask.

"No, let him go for now. I'll let him do what he wants, and if he's not as good as I hope he is, I'll fire his ass."

"Very well, sir."

They continued up the stairs as Salla thought about whether it was worth having a chimera-blood on his payroll. Admittedly they were rare people, and his butler had tested the man out to see if he'd be good for the post, but this was something that wasn't acceptable. He was the one on top of the chain of command, damn it! That meant that the lion was supposed to wait until he was called. And with the 'evidence' of his enjoyment bumping against the lion's chest with each step, he needed to come up with something to explain it so that Pebble didn't think this sort of behavior was encouraged. Even a professional 'dom' had to obey the limits his employer set, he would have thought.

A little thought gave him a fairly good one. He wanted to lose control sometimes - which was why he'd hired the lion in the first place, to give him a whore to lose control with - but not like this. His body was reacting as it lost some of the stress of being in charge. That was all. He wasn't looking to have the lion take more control or leave him humiliated all the time.

With a surprising amount of grace, Pebble climbed the stairs for a few dozen stories of the hotel until they were just below the top. Kicking the door open again, the lion walked down the hall to the penthouse at the far end. Salla wondered if he'd be dropped to open the door - something he probably would have done - but once more the lion decided to be brutish about it. A rough jury-rigged key-card slid into the lock - which the door surprisingly accepted - and the lion stepped through, punching the control panel hard as he passed it. The door shut with a hard slam, the lock tripped to remain in place until it was fixed by someone else.

"Sollon, will you get a locksmith and a welder on call?"

"I thought we fixed that last week, sir."

"Pebble just broke it."

"Ah. I'll get three."

"Good ma - HEY!"

Apparently his connection with his employees had gotten on the lion's nerves, because Pebble grabbed his mask and threw it across the room. Thankfully the actual material it was made of was strong enough to take the impact, but without it actually on his face, the mask was useless.

The lion lifted him off of his shoulder, holding him by the scruff of his neck. Despite the somewhat ludicrous situation, Salla felt himself unable to look away from Pebble's eyes, the sheer power in that gaze almost paralyzing.

"What you need to realize, my dear mouse, is that I got tired of waiting and I came for what's mine. One thing you need to realize about this relationship; I'll stay out of the public eye, let you run your rackets and whatever else you do, but I'll not be your rent boy. Outside of the bedroom, you're a feared crime boss. With me, you're the bitch. My bitch. And don't you forget it, mouse."

"Considering I'm paying you -"

SMACK!

Salla grunted at the impact, the lion's palm harder than some men's fists. He rubbed his cheek where it had hit him, and he shook his head a few times to clear his head.

"Would you stop that? It really -"

SMACK!

The mouse bit his lip at the second slap, shaking his head and glaring at the lion.

"That one was for telling me what to do. The first one was for making me wait for three weeks. Respect is earned, Salla, and right now, all I see is a bossy little rodent with a mancunt that's screaming to be plowed."

He was forced to hang from the lion's grip as they walked through his penthouse, the mouse grumbling to himself as they passed by the opulent living room with a leather couch and a number of gadgets, and then down a hallway with a Rembrandt painting and a replica of one of the sculptures from Vatican City. The carpet below would have been comfortable to walk on, but he was held too high for that.

They entered the bedroom shortly after, and the lion threw him onto the bed from the doorway, sending him flying a full fifteen feet before he landed. The mouse rolled along the bed, coming to a stop halfway to the head of it, before turning around. He was halfway to his feet before the spry feline crossed the room and grabbed him by the muzzle, a strangely wet palm pressed against his face.

"Breathe."

Not given any choice, the mouse nodded and sucked in a small breath. Instantly his senses were awash with a potent musk, and he groaned as he stiffened. He tried to pull away, recognizing the presence of mind-altering pheromones, but Pebble's tight grip kept him from pulling back.

Each breath settled more of the pheromones in his mind, awakening old thoughts, things that were part him and part ancestral memories of his species. The powerful scent of a feline meant predator, superiority, and as a rodent his fight or flight instinct was kicking in hard. He shuddered as he twitched in the lion's grip, the scent getting stronger with every breath, the need to flee slowly overpowering the need to fight, but he was too weak for either.

Underneath that instinct, however, was something else. A desire...a desire to submit. He only rarely felt the power of that instinct, but when he did, it was damn strong and incredibly hard to resist. The other tops he'd hired for brief encountered had all been felines for this reason, something to keep him from wanting to break free, something to let him submit further into the role he'd picked. None of them had realized why he spent so much time soaking in their scent before going into it, but Pebble seemed to grasp it right off the bat.

The lion's fingers stroked his muzzle gently as he slid deeper and deeper into that instinct of submission, the musky, slightly salty smell coming off of Pebble's fingers slowly getting the mouse more excited and less annoyed. His hips twitched lightly, and he felt his shaft rubbing against the inside of his pants, throbbing from the influence of the pheromones. His toes curled in his boots from the scent forced down his nose, and almost reluctantly - almost - he leaned into the lion's hand, his nostrils flaring as he stopped fighting the scent, sucking it in instinctively.

Just as Salla felt like he would have lost himself completely, Pebble pulled his hand back. The feline shook it back and forth a few times as Salla shuddered, groaning as some small part of rational thought returned. It was scant, but it was enough to let him blush at what he had been doing, at how easily his 'employee' had gotten him to submit.

"Strip and present yourself, slut. And beg for it."

Panting shamefully, he found himself following the order without question. His hands moved along the front of his suit, pulling the buttons apart before throwing the high quality jacket to the floor. The white shirt under it followed, revealing his own immaculately groomed, short white fur. Groaning, his face on fire as he kept stripping, he moved his hands down to his boots, tugging them and the socks off and throwing them to the side as well, barely able to slow down in order to make sure they landed upright.

As the lion watched, the mouse pressed his fingers to the button at the front of the suit. Popping it open, he slid the zipper down and wiggled his way up out of his pants. They landed in the pool at the side as well, leaving him in just his underwear, a tightly fitting pair of briefs that blended into his fur. Despite his arousal, there was little to no visible bulge, and as he pulled down his underwear, it was clear why.

Salla tossed the pair aside embarrassedly, looking down at himself. His four and a half inch cock was small even for a rodent, and he knew it wasn't getting any bigger. It looked even smaller compared to the fist sized orbs underneath, dwarfing his cock to the point of making it look miniature.

Zzzzzzzzip.

He looked up at the lion kneeling on the edge of the bed. Pebble smirked at him, the front of his pants pulled down just enough to let the feline's cock out, and what a cock it was. It was jet black, the length already hard and erect, and the end was tipped with the classic barbs of a feline cock. The mouse's cock twitched at the sight, his eyes drawn to it and his imagination on fire as he thought of how that cock would feel inside of him.

His last thoughts of resistance were smothered beneath the lion's potent musk filling the room, and the mouse fell to his knees, his ass facing towards the line. Pulling his wiry tail to the side, he reached back and spread his ass cheeks to keep his hole on display. It twitched and throbbed in time with his cock, his anus loose from repeated hired tops, and it burned with the need to be filled again. He curled his toes, both in eagerness and in a begging gesture to the lion behind him.

"Fuck me...fuck me and breed me like I need it...It's been too long since I've felt it...just...fuck me and use me."

"Oh, I will, darling."

Pebble advanced on him from behind, the lion making the bed shift from his greater size until he was right behind the mouse. His greater size dwarfed the crime lord as he leaned over Salla's back, his body like a great, heavy rug. The mouse shuddered as the lion bit into the back of his neck, the teeth sharp enough to draw blood. It wasn't a huge thing, but he could feel some of it running down the side of his neck, staining the white fur and leaving him burning.

"From this moment on, you're mine."

The lion's claws ran down his sides, sheathing and unsheathing as they drew welts along his skin. The pain was exquisite, something he'd normally hate, but with the musk and the submission forced into his brain Salla embraced it. He moaned, shifting his body from side to side to feel more of the lion's touch, pushing his small body back, grinding his ass backwards in an attempt to get that cock.

Despite his best efforts, Pebble maintained control. The lion wouldn't let him do anything, wouldn't let him push back or get free. Everything happened by the feline's whim. Held in place as Pebble bit and nibbled down his body, the mouse felt his own need getting stronger and stronger. The musky scent of lion, that powerful dominance that was driving him out of his mind; it was all there, and it wouldn't go away. His cock throbbed, his balls ached, and his hole burned for a fuck.

Eventually the lion reached his ass, and Salla shuddered. He could feel the soft puffs of the dominant lion's breath back there, the heat matting down the soft fur a little bit, and he looked back, begging with his eyes. Pebble chuckled.

"I was going to eat you out, but you haven't earned the right yet. We'll discuss what you have to do at a later point."

The lion did, however, drag his tongue up the mouse's ass, and Salla loved every second of that contact. He arched his back, his tail twitching at the rough feline tongue brushing against his hole and dragging along his flesh. His fingers dug into the sheets, and he had to bite his lips to keep from moaning loud enough to be heard across the entire floor.

That one lick was all he got. Even when he begged - incoherently, perhaps, but still begged - the lion gave him no more. Instead, Pebble sat up again, the head of his cock sliding along Salla's ass cheeks. He shuddered, clenching his fists in preparation. He'd taken a cock dry before, and it never worked out easily. Looseness didn't mean an easy fuck, particularly with something as long as Pebble's eight-incher.

Rather than a hard thrust, it was more of a smack. He grunted as the barbed tip slammed against his hole but didn't push in. It was like a clap or a slap, and he barely had the chance to process it before it hit him again. He grunted again and again, lowering his head as the lion attacked his ass with his cock, not entering him, not penetrating him, just pushing against his hole in teasing pseudo-thrusts. With each one, he felt his semi-tight hole loosening further, breaking down like a wall in front of a battering ram, and he whimpered, both needing it and fearing which one would actually be the thrust that broke him open.

It went on for almost thirty seconds before the lion finally plunged in. It couldn't have been a deep thrust considering how dry and large he was, but it damn well felt like it. Salla's eyes went wide as he yelped, his ass tightening down on instinct only to feel the barbs brushing up against his inner walls. He shuddered, his limbs shaking all over as he tried to keep himself upright, tried to get control of himself, but his need wouldn't be denied. His ass spasmed and twitched, and he could hear the lion hissing above him even as his ass went out of control trying to pull more of that tormenting, perfect cock inside of him.

It was both a relief and a torment that the lion didn't push more of his cock inside. As it was, he could barely take the inches already in him, but his ass - despite being pricked and teased and inflamed by the barbs on the tip - wanted more than ever. Salla whimpered, his brain telling him to pull off while his body tried to push back, but Pebble allowed neither, holding him tightly and preventing any free will in the matter. Leaning forward, the lion whispered to him.

"You feel that, Salla, my pet? That's the feel of being taken by someone who doesn't give two shits about your pleasure, but knows how to break you down into the rodent bitch you were meant to be."

The lion shifted slightly. It didn't drive any more of his cock inside, but it turned the head of his shaft just enough for the barbs to drag along the mouse's insides. Salla bit off a yelp of pleasured pain, his cock throbbing under him in protest, begging for more.

"I'm not like the other felines you slut around with. I'm not like the jocks you get drunk and ride, then have your goons bundle off to never see again. I'm not some employee you can call and twist around your finger. I'm your master, Salla. Love it, or hate it, your mine till I say the relationship's over."

Kissing his cheek, the lion chuckled before leaning back again. His hips ground forward and back, never thrusting far in, but always dragging that barbed head back and forth enough to tease the mouse.

He barely had a chance to think as the lion took him hard. The musk hanging in the air had his mind in full submission, but despite that he wondered how Pebble had figured that part of his life out. He had gone to a few felines before, had even gotten drunk once or twice and had an...incident...before getting someone to cover it up again. Despite that, he'd never let it become public knowledge, and he knew that Sollon had taken care of things. How had Pebble -

Another buck inside silenced him, the scratching barbs raking over his sensitive hole hard enough to make him yelp. His thoughts fled as he was fucked hard, filled and emptied before being filled again, and he could barely support himself. Any logical thought would have to wait until later.

Somehow, the lion was breaking him. Not with his words, not with his muscles or his bigger size or anything like that. No, he was breaking the mouse with his cock, and Salla could feel what little resistance he had left slipping away. Every bit of his body craved the feline's dick, his ass swallowing the shaft up whenever more was offered and clenching down. He could feel the burning swelling inside, could feel his ass stretching out beyond repair as it was reamed by the huge shaft, but he barely cared. All he wanted was more, and he wanted it now.

Despite his need, he had to wait until Pebble gave it to him. He shuddered as he was held still, not allowed to move save for the fraction of an inch that the lion let him. In the grip of those claws, he was nothing more than a toy, a little plaything for the feline, and for once, he was fine with that.

Back and forth he was rocked, and slowly, ever so slowly, more of Pebble's shaft slipped in. Every new millimeter of cock was a blessing to the horny mouse, who leaned back his head and moaned to the ceiling whenever he felt the gift of a little more cock. Despite how loose he'd been before, the sheer size of the lion's cock combined with the dryness of his hole left it rasping, burning, hot and almost tearing from how big it was in him. Only the slight lubrication his body produced in the form of sweat and his inside's reaction to the barbs teasing his flesh kept him from getting ripped apart.

And he loved it, pain and all. He didn't care that it was ruining his hole. He didn't care that it was going to leave a mark on him that would never go away. All he cared about was that it felt damn good, and he wanted it to keep on coming.

His mind faded past conscious thought, the lion's cock turning him into a mousy slut as more and more of that black barbed lion cock pushed its way into his hole. Somewhere past a half hour mark, he felt another inch inside, and then a bit more a little later. How long it took to earn that, he didn't know, but he knelt in a pool of his own juices by the time that it rolled around, and he craved more, begged for more in an incoherent babble.

At some point, he realized the sun had gone down during the never-ending fuck. Still the lion took him, his face falling onto the bed as he was milked of yet another orgasm. It was barely a tiny squirt, nothing like the spurts from before. He shuddered as the lion held him by his hips, sheathing his huge cock into his ass, and all he could do was beg for more.

"Oh fuck, fuck, FUCK! Fuck me master, fuck me! Fuck me, you big lion stud, fuck my brains out!"

And at that moment, Pebble gave him what he wanted. In one smooth motion, the lion sheathed himself in the mouse's ass, his cock throbbing for a moment before a torrent of hot seed burst out. It stung and brought bliss at the same time, flooding his hole with some sort of lube, even if it was slimy and wet and painful to the swollen insides of his ass. The mouse gasped out as he was filled, his lungs burning as he gasped for air, his fingers and toes curling into the sheets as he tried to maintain some hold of sanity.

The lion dropped him, letting his body fall onto the bed again. He splashed into his puddle of cum, saturating his belly and his cock with his own seed, and he panted for breath as he tried to rationalize what had happened. Thought was mostly beyond him still, he realized as he licked his lips clean of a bit of cum that had sprayed there. All he wanted to do was lay there and enjoy the bliss of his afterglow. What residual frustration remained from the lion's interruption had been fucked away, oozing out of him like the cum oozing out of his ass.

Pebble laid beside him for almost a half hour before getting up, moving to the foot of the bed. Salla rolled over slightly as he felt the lion's cock on his feet, looking down to see his 'master' grinding his spent seed into the mouse's pink feet. Salla couldn't help but blush slightly at the sight, unable to quite understand why but enjoying it nonetheless.

"Weekly pedicures from now on. Paint your toeclaws, any color, but something. Panties always, no matter what else you're wearing."

The mouse blinked as Pebble pulled his pants back on, his mind half fogged as he tried to recognize what had been said. When the lion's words finally got through his skull, he sat up straight. Suppressing a grunt of pain, he leaned forward, staring at the lion in incredulity.

"What are you talking about? Isn't what you just did to my ass enough?"

"No. You want me, you do what I ask. I'm not asking you to be a flaming faggot in front of your boys. I'm asking you to submit. You do it, or find some brain dead jock to ride."

The lion left the bedroom, and Salla heard the 'thunk' sound of the metal door falling out of its frame. Doubtless Pebble would be walking by Sollon and his men right now. He needed to get ready to meet them, but it was a struggle to get out of bed and get to his closet. He managed, even if he did leave a line of cum on the way to it.

His butler entered the room by himself, and Salla met him mostly dressed. He didn't have his boots on, but he had otherwise managed to cover himself. Sollon bowed at the waist, and Salla shook his head.

"That lion..."

"I assume that sir was satisfied in the bedroom."

"You -" The mouse sighed. "You know me too well."

"It doesn't hurt that I can smell how much you enjoyed it, sir."

He glared half-heartedly at the rat, but he didn't deny it. The room absolutely stank of sex, and despite himself, he couldn't lie. He had enjoyed being fucked like that, and a part of him wanted the lion back here for another romp in a few days. Hell, he'd take him tomorrow, or just later that night. Well, maybe not that night; his ass was feeling pretty sore.

"Sollon."

"Yes?"

"What I'm about to tell you to do is never to be repeated."

"Isn't that your usual order, sir?"

"More than usual."

"Code A, B, or C?"

"Code O."

Sollon's eyebrows went up.

"He's that good?"

"That good."

"Well, that's a relief. Let's see what we can do."

#

It was two days later that Salla made a trip down to the lion's apartment. He was let in without argument -considering he owned the building, there was no surprise there - and was directed to the lion's room. He made his way up to the place, and knocked at the door.

Pebble answered immediately, the lion looking down at him with a small chuckle.

"Did you do what I told you, little mouse?"

"I did."

"Show me."

With a moment's hesitation, Salla slowly slid off his boots. His feet were bare underneath, and his white face turned red under the mask as he was made to show off his new painted toes. The nails were a vibrant purple, extremely visible against the normally pale digits.

"And the other?"

"Do I -"

"Yes."

Looking back and forth, the mouse slowly pulled open the front of his suit. Rather than the cotton briefs he'd worn before, he had a pair of satin red panties on, the material cupping his bulge and showing it off more than his other clothing had. He knew just how ridiculous it looked, as Sollon had helped him with them, and even the rat had been stifling laughter.

Pebble, on the other hand, only grinned wider, and the front of his pants had a growing bulge. He stepped to the side.

"Come in, mousey. We have a lot to do."

Salla shuddered, unable to help his hole's twitching as he stepped inside. What had he gotten himself into, he wondered.

The End