One Cat Away
ONE CAT AWAY
by Iscin
This is a work of erotic fiction.
All characters portrayed within are 18 years of age or over.
All rights reserved © 2015.
CHAPTER ONE
Enter Stage Right
_A real cultural experience, _Qiang had said. Of course Paul knew that there would be some outrageous catch to the proposal. Just as well he asked for the cash up front this time. With the big lion Kenta away for the day, this leaves the tiger with a rare window of opportunity for extended one on one time with their indentured westerner. Something which Qiang had planned beforehand or so it would seem as the evocative attire was on hand, stashed away in one of the closets. The white fabric was cool and smooth against his skin when he first put it on. Not however the costume has warmed up against his skin, little of that there is tied against his midriff and draped down from his waist. A good deal of skin is exposed, from his shoulders to his thighs. Overall the thing looks and feels a little, for lack of a better term, girlish to Paul. Although not at all constricting nor tight, almost suggesting a custom tailored job on it.
Looking at himself again in the mirror the human can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as they redden. I should ask for double. He thinks to himself as he looks at the gigolo reflected back at him. This is definitely worth double. Would a past version of himself be doing this for the same pay? Maybe if he was desperate enough. Of course he has already agreed to it, leash and all. If he goes back on the deal Qiang might get angry with him. Actually knowing the tiger's borderline fiery nature he would most definitely be cross with the human. Paul sighs and hangs his head, looking down at his own bare chest. His torso remains bare until finally reaching the midriff where the costume returns to cover his skin, albeit in a way that is easily torn off. He might as well not be wearing anything at all. But first the tiger wants his little game.
"Are you finished yet?" Qiang shouts from the adjacent room, the big cat's loud voice barely stopping just short of a genuine tiger's roar.
"Y-Yes! Coming!" Paul shouts back and checks himself one last time in the mirror before turning on his bare heel and marching to the door.
***
Many years ago, so the story goes, there were two people. The first and greater of the two were the grand prides of the feline species, from lions to jaguars. Naturally they were civilised and prosperous in every conceivable manner. However alongside them were the primates, more specifically the humans. These were not the same humans as Paul is descended from of course, but rather his distant cousins. No one knows exactly how the two sentient species came to co-inhabit this planet, let alone that particular part of the world. However the story of the civilising of the humans of the east is well known, and constantly retold among the cats of the east. It is this story which Qiang has promised to pay Paul for a unique retelling.
Whilst the human's costume is raunchy to the extreme, Qiang's is far more conservative and even formal in nature. The robes of a king no less, vivid colours accentuating an earthy base for his embroidered shirt and cape. It is really quite preposterous really, completely in breaking with what would be historically accurate. But then again that is the point. He has already given Paul the exaggerated synopsis of their little play he awaits the human's entrance whilst sitting on the plush armchair that is serving as the king's throne. He meets the human with a toothy grin as the door opens and Paul finally steps in.
"Sorry it err, took me so long to g-" Paul's cowed words are suddenly cut off.
"Stay. In. Character." Qiang interjects with a sneer before returning to the role of an arrogant, self-assured king. Not that the character role is any different from the usual attitude from either him or Kenta.
"Oh, sorry." Paul bites his lip, self-conscious that his hands are trembling a little. There is not even an audience to be judged by. Well, except if you count the big tiger, but maybe Qiang is more terrifying than any audience could be.
With no small amount of exaggeration Paul changes his stance into something that he imagines might portray a primitive. Shoulders hunched forward, knuckles low to the ground. It looks stupid, but then that is the point. As he approaches his superior Paul is greeted by one of the tiger's paws. The feline extends his right leg and spreads his toes, presenting the bare sole of it to Paul's mildly perturbed face. It is clear to him that the tiger has not washed recently as the stench of it hits him. Paul's nose wrinkles as he hears the tiger's voice boom. The uninspired command is given prompting a hesitant primitive primate to take action.
"You don't want to keep a king waiting." Qiang says menacingly after noticing the hesitation.
Kisses, tender and sweet are planted against the tiger's furry paw. Paul's lips are tickled even as his nose slides momentarily between two of the digits. In perfect timing Qiang tightens the space between said digits, trapping Paul's nose. The human squirms, both visibly and audibly, whilst being forced to open his mouth to breathe in. Taste, smell and texture. It is all combining into a cocktail of degrading servitude. He can feel the blood rushing to his face again as it strikes him just how humiliating this really is. Nevertheless he curls his fingers around the foot and performs his role, kissing and licking from one end to the other.
"Now the other one." The tiger rumbles as he starts sitting up, leering down at the prostrating human. "You must show humility before I show mercy to your kind."
There are no lines in this for Paul to say, of that Qiang made perfectly clear. All he has to do is play nice and do as he is told to do. So just as he is commanded, Paul switches from one foot to the other as the tiger offers it. This time Qiang is a little more forceful with shoving the foot into Paul's face. A single shove of his foot is all that is needed for the tiger to big cat to push the human back. Unable to steady himself Paul falls all the way until landing on his back, the wind knocked from out of him. Qiang's own mild surprise from his own strength is soon replaced by interest in the manner by which the human's toga like though short cut cloth manages to rise up over his waistline from the momentum.
"Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way." Qiang says, no longer pretending to stay in character. "Time to skip to the dramatic reveal."
In one smooth action, as befitting a dexterous feline, Qiang casts the kingly cape which had been covering one arm and down over his lap. In doing so he reveals the fact that he was wearing nothing else after all. Paul watches the tiger practically jump up onto those moistened feet, his muscular body towering over the human presenting a stark visual contrast between the two. Jutting out from his crotch, the big cat's phallus has risen up to attention. Though its turgidity is hardly the only thing to catch Paul's eyes as the tiger reaches down and grabs Paul underneath his arms. With another smooth motion Qiang effortlessly picks up the pitiful primate as though he weighs nothing at all. Tail flicking in excitement as he sits back down, the chair creaking underneath the weight of the tiger and the human. Now he is brought close and directly over the tiger's lap.
"This is your line."
CHAPTER TWO
Performance Piece
Now positioned exactly where the tiger wants him to be, the human is gingerly released. As need for balance Paul reaches out with both arms and grabs both of the big orange and black cat's shoulders for support. Legs in a squatting position, Paul can feel the heat of the feline's erect and throbbing cock as it brushes beside his left leg. Qiang is only too happy to reach down and help guide his malehood, making sure it is pointing exactly where it needs to go, where it must go for the transaction to be complete. Even after the amount of times he has done this, surrendered his body to this violation, Paul is perturbed by the size, textured barbs and ferocity with which the big cats mate. This goes double for Qiang, for though not as daunting a beast as Kenta, the tiger makes up for it in ample supply of unrefined passion.
"Come on then, what are you waiting for?" The tiger asks the exposed human, his face only inches away and whiskers tickling Paul's nose. His breath has that rancid smell telling of his having recently eaten something, raw and bloody.
"Nothing." Paul replies in more of a squeak than a spoken word before beginning to lower himself down.
The tip, lubricated in its own pre-ejaculate, pierces the tight gap between his buttocks. As the cheeks start to part ways for the tiger's sceptre Paul keeps eye contact with his liege. This was also one of the requirements. Full attention, eyes forward, let him see the grimacing, the blush, the eyes that water as the head now reaches his sphincter and starts to pry that open too. One of the tiger's paws start to stroke the human's long hair, brushing it out of his face lest any part of the experience be spoiled by such an obfuscation. The gradients of tenseness and intensity turn from one to the next on the human's furless features as he feels the tiger slide up inside of him with surprising smoothness. Perhaps his body is just getting used to this, numb to this even, but the barbs do not feel so bad anymore.
In perfect deference to the big cat's wishes Paul goes all the way down until his smooth cheeks are rubbing against the tiger's powerful thighs. Yet again just like the whiskers above, the furry legs tickle the area of his skin touching them. With long steady breaths Paul maintains his calmness, though it is betrayed by his own throbbing erection, poignantly sticking against the tiger's furred abs. It amuses Qiang to no end how the human squirms under his gaze, some part of him ashamed no only of the feline's dick jammed up his ass, but the manner in which the rest of his body is responding. Yet there is no discrimination, no prejudice of any sort from Qiang. Only one thing: Desire.
Without warning the tiger's hands once more hook themselves either side of Paul's waist. This time the human can feel the big cat's grip, locking either side around his ribcage. It feels as though Qiang could crush the human in his mighty arms here and now, and he probably could as well. However such an action is not what is on Qiang's mind as he tugs up, forcing Paul to start sliding back up off of the cat's member. He reminds the primate to always keep eye contact. With rapt attention the tiger starts to force Paul up and down, slamming with force each time. Paul cries out in twisted pleasure as he feels the tiger's cock plunge into the depths of rectum, pounding into his prostate.
Maintaining eye contact with the tiger is proving far more difficult than before. Paul is unable to resist from scrunching his eyes as the tears overflow. His moans echo in the room as he rolls his head around his shoulders, trying his damnedest to endure. But in spite of it all he loses control within a minute of the relentless fucking. Pitiful quantities of stringy white semen spit onto Qiang's luxurious striped fur. He can feel the dampness against his chest and abdomen, and responds with a growl and picking up the pace. Like so many times before Paul is being inexorably reduced into a living toy for the huge male.
"This isn't good enough!" Qiang roars, shocking Paul out of his stupor as the motion suddenly ceases, his orifice numb around the edges where the tiger's organ is throbbing. "Lets try something different, shall we?"
***
There are so many positions they could be in right now. Myriad forms of carnal pleasuring. But none of them provide the raw primal satisfaction for Qiang, that this one does. The somewhat dubiously human named doggy style. Differences between the two males in stature make it a little clumsy, but bending Paul over one of the kitchen counters puts the human on just about the right level. Of course with there not being quite enough room from the edge Paul has his face and chest uncomfortably pressed up against the wall. In spite of their change in location the tiger is still maintaining the charade of this demonstrating how those cats of yore disciplined their indigenous human populations. He even does the courtesy this time of grabbing a bottle of cooking oil and pouring copious amounts of the clear oily liquid over his throbbing erection as it presses against the human's rear. Such a thing is not what the tiger normally does, preferring a raw and jerkier point of entry. Unfortunately for the human, he is about to find out why change in his modus operandi.
The thrusting from before, and the times before that, were nothing compared to the energy with which the tiger now rides the exposed smaller man. Paul's toes curl, his knuckles whiten and his teeth clench in response to the force with which Qiang's throbbing tiger cock rockets its way inside of him. Strong paws hold the human firmly in place as the big cat's hips move back and forth, faster and faster. Before the tiger would use restraint, of a sort. He may not be as big or as strong as his leonine best friend, but the tiger has speed and reflexes which might be better suited to a cheetah. It is this frenetic energy which he is now unleashing on Paul's abused little ass. The rapidly warmed cooking oil is serving as a lubricant to facilitate the viciousness of the anal jackhammering, and doing relatively little to subdue the trauma levels of pain and prostate pleasure sending shockwaves of stressed joy through the human's quaking body.
His body now slick with his own perspiration, what few pieces of cloth remaining on his body start to cling to Paul in mild agitation. What used to be a horny though intact mind has now devolved into something far less lucid. Paul is rolling his head around, mushing one cheek and now the one other against the wall. His hands are alternately balling into fists or trying to push against the wall after a particular forceful thrust from Qiang, although keeping up with them is a futile task. And the less said about the expression on his face the better, just as well his hair is now obscuring it again. Somehow he is still maintaining an erection, in spite of the curiously addictive spies of pain that run along his taint and detonate in his loins each and every time the tiger hits a home run.
This reversion of sentient thoughts is not only true for Paul. Feeling large and in charge, Qiang has forgotten all about the flimsy setup. His well honed body is alive with every ounce of his being just wanting to slam itself against and inside of the human over and over again. He is so enamoured with the repeated sensation of burying the proverbial bone inside of his indentured servant that he is not even registering the times his furry sack is being swung so far that it smacks against the edge of the kitchen counter, as opposed to going all the way up and against the primate's own far smaller junk. His claws are extended, his fangs on display, as he hugs the human's fragile body and snarls possessively against him. Enraptured in his own pleasure the tiger does not even notice his partner blowing his load, pitiful though it is. No acting is required here. This is how it was done back in the day. In two words: Old School.
Of course all good things must come to an end. As the ebb and flow of the rhythm shifts Paul is innately aware that the big cat is about to blow big. Even as the tiger's claws start to draw blood in their bid to tighten their hold, Paul is scrambling for something to brace himself against. Ultimately all he has is the counter underneath and the wall in front. Nothing to get his hands around as the tiger goes all the way in and roars like a beast from the jungle, except in this kitchen his voice is amplified as it bounces off of the smooth walls and metal pots. Just as well though as Paul is suddenly backwards and upright against the big cat's furry and muscular chest. Apparently the tiger is determined that every last drop makes it inside as he holds the squirming man firmly down over his pulsating cock as it spews load after viscous load of his semen.
Looking at down his belly Paul can make out the subtle bulge as his insides become pumped full of hot liquid love. From the tips of his fingers and toes, to the innermost core of his being, Paul can feel the growing sensation of heat spreading out from the interior to the exterior. He is not exactly sure, but Paul has long suspected that the big cats have a slightly higher body temperature than humans, and each time he is filled like this it feels wonderful as the exchange of not only fluids, but heat overwhelms his senses. Actually Paul is drooling a little as the last few shuddering ejaculations erupt from the tiger's organ and his claws finally begin to relax, a contended purr being made by Qiang which is in stark contrast to the deafening roar just moments before.
"Fuck..." Qiang purrs.
"Me..." Paul groans back, his arms and legs turning limp in the big cat's hold.
CHAPTER THREE
Exit Stage Left
Both musky in scent and thick in texture, the counter, the cupboard underneath and the floor immediately below are covered in the tiger's spunk. It is an unhygienic mess of gross proportion. As the highs of sexual arousal with a more than satisfactory conclusion dies down, both males realise what they have done. As he catches the exhausted and blushing human's gaze the feline is quick to produce a winning smile. Wryly he knows who is going to have to clean this up, and it sure is not going to be him. So with a not too tender smack against the flinching human's semen oozing butt Qiang takes his leave. As he approaches the door though he pauses and turns to look at Paul the human starts to test the feeling in all of his limbs for nerve damage.
"So did you learn anything?" Qiang says with no trace of sarcasm.
Paul is not sure if he has the energy to reply, let alone to handle the task of cleaning the kitchen before Kenta returns home wanting his supper. Summoning what little of his own strength remains the human rolls over from the slumped and prostrate position Qiang had left him in. As his buttocks squish down against the counter he shudders as more of the tiger's seed oozes out making him sit in a small puddle of the sticky stuff. His eyes are a little bloodshot from the extraneous nature of what he has just endured. The hair in an even worse state than before, disheveled and sticking with both perspiration and now even semen as he tries to brush it out of his face with stained hands.
"What do you mean?" Paul says before now spluttering and coughing as he feels his diagram shift uncomfortably.
"Tut tut." Qiang grimaces as he watches the distraught human leap into a coughing fit. "If you don't know then you clearly have not learned anything. Obviously this means that we will have to repeat this exercise."
Qiang's suggestion sounds more like an expecting command. But before the man finishes getting his breath back the tiger has turned his back and closed the door behind himself. Paul pauses to consider what has happened, and what may happen again. However the not entirely warm enough to be nearly stark naked air is starting to get to him and he shivers. The mess covering half of his body, and a good portion of the kitchen surfaces besides is already cooling and he is starting to feel like he has just come out of a reverse shower, where instead of being clean and wet, he is dirty and wet. Yet there is still so much to clean up, and so little time. With a hearty sigh Paul reaches for the nearest cleaning sponge and gets to work wiping the mess off of the counter. Another day, another task for the subservient college student.
***
Kenta knows something has gone on. Not because of the smell, something for which Paul has overcompensated for using products to an extent where the smell is significantly different from the usual scents. Even the slightly off walk the human is doing as he passes the big lion by with a cursory hello as he carries something from one room to the other is not obvious to the big cat. Instead the thing that tips him off is that smile, predatory and sublime, pasted all over Qiang's face. As the lion drops his satchel he leans over the couch, his weight making the furniture creak, and looks straight at his striped friend.
"So... anything happen whilst I was out?" Kenta asks, trying to keep his face neutral.
"Oh umm, there was the mail, late as usual I think. Can't think of anything else though." Qiang replies, his eyes darting from his friend and now back to the flatscreen television.
"Huh... okay then." Kenta grunts and leans back off the couch.
Noise from the direction kitchen grabs the lion's attention and he realises that Paul looked quite frenetic as he passed by. Of course the moment he tries to enter the kitchen something presses against the other side of the door. Half-thought excuses shower out from the human as he tries to delay the inevitable. Ultimately of course the two chairs he has stacked behind the door are not going to stop the big lion and with an impressive display of force the big cat thinks nothing of nearly ripping the door off its hinges to force it open. One of the chairs snaps in the process and Paul yells in shock, cowering in front of the partially cleaned counter where the smell is barely covered by bleach and other substances.
"What are you hiding?" Kenta asks calmly. Already a knowing smile is sneaking its way in from the edge of the predator's face.