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It was awfully hard to really rub someone's paw. Repetitive motion strain, knowing where all the tense parts were, and just how to unkink everything, in its own unique way.

Not usually on the menu was the possibility of being squished by a paw five times your height, lengthwise. Ah well, such was life, at least if you were a tiny tiger, somewhat-grudgingly subservient to a teenaged snow leopard.

The teenaged part wouldn't have been a huge deal, except that the massive pink pads,easily squishy enough for the tiger to find deep purchase within them, tended to get more than a bit sweaty, with all the slipping and musk that entailed.

Usually, this wouldn't have been an issue, but Pes had repeatedly slipped on particularly sweaty patches of paw, found his face tangled in musky grey foot fur, or his mouth pressed tightly against a big gob of sweat coercing him to swallow. While he had almost saintly patience (you'd have to), this had happened several times in just this session alone, and he was looking for a bit of rest.

Yelling was barely effective, given the sizes involved. Eli was 6 feet even, where Pes was, well, 2 inches. Bit of a difference. Factor in the snow leopard's somewhat subpar eyesight, and reticence to wear glasses, and, well.

Best not to think about that.

So, instead, Pes stopped his paw-roving, and waited for the teenager's impatience to draw him forward. Sure enough, the leopard stopped whatever-it-was-he-was-doing (the curious scent of musk gave the tiger a decent idea, and a bit of an alluring one, at that), and leaned forward, coming into a cross-legged position, just in front of his live-in.

Of course, you wouldn't address something so insignificant by words, let alone name, so Eli simply raised an eyebrow, the already-obvious action titanic on the comparative-macro's face. Pes stood a moment, resisting the urge to angrily shout, as that hadn't worked in the past. Raising his voice to an audible volume, he called out, "Y'know, I've been at this for awhile. Maybe we could break for a bit? Move around a bit? Stretch your limbs?", each suggestion coming with an air of put-upon calm.

Eli swiveled forward so he was lying on his stomach, mouth mere (Pes) body-lengths from the tiger. "Oh? I don't think you've earned it. Pretty poor job, actually. Plus, from the nips, you've been enjoying it enough to be a reward by itself." His tone of voice made it clear that the unspoken reward was even offering him this chance, let alone talking to him.

The tone was already somewhat threatening, but likely would've been more effective if Pes hadn't been playing "Morning breath morning breath morning breath" on loop in his head, like a broken record. Embarrassingly, there seemed to be just a hidden note of orange mixed in, and Eli wasn't in the habit of keeping citrus around. Instead of being cowed, the micro put on his fiercest face (not very), and yelled up again, "I could be doing plenty of things better than catering to a lazy, overgrown-"

He should have noticed it. Given the sizes at play, he really should have noticed it. Perhaps, if he hadn't been calling out the beast in front of him, and yelling himself hoarse, the obvious hand, swinging towards him, could have been...well, not evaded, but anticipated.

As it was, he ended up roughly scooped up in a hand far too big to escape, arms pinned to his sides. Only his head stuck above the fleshy prison, and that he squirmed to the fullest, a futile attempt to avoid whatever sadistic game the leopard had thought up as punishment.

Tauntingly, the snowcat drew this out. A glance down to his boxers, followed by a tilt of the hand holding his prey, showed a still-obvious tent beneath the leopard's customary black boxers. Another twist back up, his gaping mouth, tongue already set squirming, in anticipation. Pes' skin tingled, with familiarity, and memory. He very carefully kept himself from shuddering, as that would have been Eli's cue to carelessly toss him down the hatch.

His fate was decided a few eternal seconds later, after Eli made eye contact for the briefest of moments, blue eyes, as cold as the ice they matched, accentuated the condescending smirk already plastered across his face, finding itself well-at-home on the monochromatic features.

Like a planet-shaking monster, Eli stood up, spryly hopping off the couch after several hours (Pes' arms really were sore, Eli's paws really weren't), and plunged his right hand down beneath his waistband. Pes made to hold his breath, but could only keep it up for so long. The leopard washed, of course, and regularly, but take anyone's scent, multiply it by 36, and you were bound to get something pretty strong. "It's not really a bad scent..." PEs cut off the traitorous thought. If he had to do this, he didn't have to like it.

Eli's hand rooted about, forefingers unpeeling from Pes, and began to root about in the thick groin fur. Satisfied with whatever he had accomplished, he surged his hand forward once more, and patted the tiny tiger into place with a smirk. It took the victim of this roughhousing a moment to figure out exactly where he was, given the soft padding, and fluffy atmosphere. A rudimentary attempt at movement made him realize that he was stuck fast, held by thick globs of sweat, and-

That was cum, wasn't it.

The micro sighed, looked about once more, and concluded that he was sandwiched just between the snow leopard's thick balls, and thigh. The offending balls crashing into him as soon as the leopard started walking served to promote this hypothesis, of course.

What was a trivial motion for the teen, was a sweaty, sticky, quake for Pes. He quickly found himself winded, as the air was pressed from his lungs by the rhythmic beating of leopard sac, pounding against his entire body. The mantra "Don't enjoy it." was doing little to convince his crotch, stirring to mirror the shaft above him, hardening into wakefulness. He groaned. One way or another, this was gonna be a long trip.

Occasionally, the dark fabric of the boxers, tainted heavily with the musk surrounding Pes, would pull in closer. Eli's hand readjusted himself awkwardly, as his length grew to full mast under Pes' watchful eye. The tiger's squirming was just what the doctor ordered, it turned out, if that doctor was looking to tent his boxers. Pes repeatedly thrust outwards in a useless bid for escape, incredulous that sweat (even with cum mixed in) could be that sticky. Each of his desperate throes pounded the tiger against the leopard's balls, tiny, panting mouth eliciting squirms that shook the tiger further, serving to make his situation all the warmer.

Pes was managing to keep himself from encouraging the god manifest around him, as much as he could. At least, until the world rotated. Eli flipped himself backwards into bed, squirming around on his back for the better part of a minute, grinning with the sensation of rubbing Pes all around. Pes gasped for air, inaudibly, in between being smothered by warm, sweaty, flesh and fur.

Insatiable, and to discourage, further dissent, Eli hooked his thumbs beneath his waistband, and wriggled out of his boxers, keeping watch to ensure that he didn't lose his prey, in the process. Satisfied that he had sufficient ease of movement, and his plaything was still glued to his thigh, Eli slid a palm along the inside of his hip, and up his shaft, bringing the squirming, fearful tiger along for the ride.

Pes squeaked as he was dragged across the barbs of Eli's head, the sharp tang of citrus mixing with the leopard's own scent, as a few drops of blood marred the tiger's orange fur. He shakily stood atop the top of Eli's cock, before sensibly lowering himself to his hands and knees, as the giant began dragging his foremost two fingers along the underside.

Pes looked along the fields of colourless fluff, up to Eli's self-satisfied smirk, and held on tighter, extending his claws the scant distance he could. The snow leopard's blue eyes lidded, his mouth opened into an almost-silent exhalation, and Pes took what satisfaction he could, from this modicum of control.

Whether in retaliation, or increased desperation, Eli began properly palming his cock, bouncing Pes with each repetition. Already worked up and tense from Pes' prolonged encounter with his cock, Eli found himself nearing the tiger's actual punishment. Close to climax, Eli used his unoccupied left paw to pop Pes' head down his cock-slit, already slick with shiny precum.

The tiger spasmed, his unseen eyes flared wide in the midst of his frenzy. There was a pink thumbpad holding him flush with the surface, much too heavy to be so much as budged. Pes could feel the walls around him pulsing, and the leopard's scent getting stronger in his nose, second by second. Each breath of air was the leopard, each gasp bringing with it drops of the titan. He felt like he was being devoured, even though the rest of his body remained as free as could be, while his head was stuck.

Pes closed his eyes, as a final pulse came, much stronger than the ones before it, and within an instant his mouth had been pried open by the force of the oncoming waves. It took no time at all for his mouth to become full. It was just as he felt the snow leopard's passion settling in his stomach, that the thumb holding him down let go, and he found himself jettisoned across the room.

Pes had dimly registered a throaty growl, though had not responded in kind, despite the wetness in his own red shorts. He panted from a dark place upon the floor, tongue lolling to the side, as he rubbed his white-furred belly. The thick stream had only made a slight dent in the tiger's figure, but this he rubbed anyhow, utterly exhausted from the physical strain.

No noise came for a while, and Pes realized that Eli must have been sleeping, sprawled out in his usual fashion across the 'shared' bed. A momentary calm settled over the tiger, as he realized that he wouldn't be asked to work, at least for now. This in his mind, he took a moment to figure out his surroundings. Familiar dark cloth enshrouded him, deeply imbued with Eli's almost-sweet scent, though it still took a few moments for Pes' addled, tired mind to put two and two together.

In a bout of unluckiness, Pes had found himself lying in a pair of macroscopic boxers once more, where an unusually familiar ass would rest, once Eli got bored of wandering around naked. The moment of calm shattered and he hurriedly pulled away, thoughts of rest far from mind. He was small enough that he wouldn't be seen, especially if the leopard were still tired as he got partially-dressed. Struggle as he might, it was no use. Pes sighed, already resigned to his next session of enjoyable torment.