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The amber lion 2

By Strega

Karen got the lion from Andrea as a gift, and an extravagant one. Though it was hardly more than three inches tall the seated lion figurine was made of amber and despite the large, dark and somewhat ugly inclusion in the middle of the figure it was worth several hundred dollars.

But Andrea didn't like it very much. She said she felt it was watching her and had planned to sell it, but then Karen's boyfriend Dieter dumped her, came back, dumped her again and generally treated her so badly that Karen ended up getting a restraining order against him. The whole affair so stressed Karen that she lost weight and her hair went stringy from lack of care. Plus, Andrea knew that Karen really liked lions. All golden and handsome they were, she'd say, and Andrea would joke about her sneaking into the lion pen at the zoo to "visit" the big male.

So though it had cost her nearly three hundred dollars she gave it to Karen and now it sat there on Karen's knick-knack shelf...when Karen wasn't playing with it.

Karen was only a couple of inches above five feet in height, slender, and (she said) lacking in curves. Her hips and breasts were narrow and small respectively and she could almost pass for a boy. It made it hard to get a boyfriend - Dieter had only been her second - and she'd brush her long brown hair and frown at herself in the mirror.

But she did have her toys, ones that buzzed and ones that wobbled if you shook them, and she had videos and books and posters and maybe a few of those videos involved things that'd be illegal in most U.S. states. Maybe one of the lovers in some of them had more than two legs. So it wasn't too surprising that one day she was looking over the little lion figurine and began to entertain certain thoughts.

It was her favorite possession in the world, the lion, and she handled it with the greatest care, keeping it spotless. She knew every nook and cranny of its cunningly stylized form from the cute triangular cat-nose to the balls and sheath the sculptor had bothered to carve into the underside. That one day she turned it in her hands and remarked to herself that a seated lion, from certain angles, resembled certain of her toys. And that line of thought led directly to her being in bed, naked from the waist down and the little figurine gripped tightly by the base.

It was smooth and hard but the shape of its mane and ears and muzzle gave it an interesting feel and now it was coated with a light sheen of lube. Carefully, and then with more vigor she rubbed it between her legs, turning it to find the most interesting angle of attack. At first she handled the three-hundred-dollar toy (and gift!) as delicately as she was able but the join between muzzle and mane was so intoxicating when rubbed against her clit that she soon lost all restraint. She was thrusting it against herself and rubbing the sculpted-in balls with a finger when it happened.

Suddenly something much too big to easily grip threw her hand to the side and Karen stared wide-eyed at the full-sized amber lion stretched out below her on the bed. Golden eyes looked past her breasts at her and Karen was just drawing in a breath to scream when the lion's tongue slid out and caressed her sex.

Her head went back in shock, for the amber tongue was covered with sharp but rubbery little hooks. She'd been licked by cats before but never there and never by a tongue as wide as her hand. She gasped and shuddered and whimpered as the lion firmly - but gently! - licked her pussy, tasting her, caressing her until she had to bite the pillow to muffle her scream of ecstasy.

When the last shudders had passed she looked down and the lion was gone, replaced by the little amber lion statue now clean of lube.

With shaking fingers Karen put the lion back on the shelf and went off to work at the legal office. It must all have been a dream, she told herself as she sent her secretary off to fetch the same file for the third him that morning. It hadn't really happened.

Then Dieter called and her excellent, if distracted, mood flew out the window.

"No I don't want to meet you for dinner," she snapped into the phone. "And you couldn't if I wanted to. Restraining order, remember? You aren't even supposed to call me!" Cell phones don't allow for a satisfying slam-down-the-handset end to a call, but she pushed the 'end call' button with savage vigor. Fuck Dieter! He'd burned his bridges.

And cranky but focused she finished her afternoon of work, picked up General Tso's Chicken on the way home (Andrea said she needed to put on a few pounds) and before she was done eating it the lion figurine was in her hand.

"It didn't really happen," she murmered, and turned it in her hand for the hundredth time. It was stylized, the mane broad and noble but lacking the grooves of a real lion's fur, the figurine smooth and growing warm in her hand. She turned it until she found the carved-in pawpads and the amber balls and sheath and rubbed those gently with a fingertip. "I sort of wish you were real, little guy."

And then the figurine was too big to hold onto and the carven-amber head rose once more between her legs, but this time a powerful and gentle paw pulled her from the chair. Karen gasped and rubbed his smooth forehead as careful fangs lifted her skirt and ripped her silken panties away. With a puff of warm breath he blew the shreds off his muzzle and then the tongue was at her again.

The remote for the TV was just within reach, next to her cell phone, and it was the former she grabbed as the lion licked his golden chops clean of her taste. When the TV was blaring she grabbed his cheeks and urged him to step up over her and that's how the amber lion fucked Karen on the carpet of her living room. That's how she confirmed what she had heard about barbed lion-cocks and that's why her neighbors complained about the loud TV to her in the hallway the next day and that's why Karen wore a high-necked blouse the next day. The lion's raspy tongue had licked her breasts and throat to a rosy pink as he fucked her three times in a row before transforming back to a figurine.

After that Karen showed up at the office smiling and cheerful, for whenever she was in the mood the lion was there to attend to her needs and when she wasn't in the mood he was a statue. He was a no-maintenance boyfriend, loyal and loving, and he never hurt her except through the excesses of his body, for his tongue was naturally rough and his was cock bigger than a lion's had any right to be and equipped with backward-facing spines. Only the hard-rubber nature of his body made those tolerable but very soon Karen did far more than tolerate it. With no worry of pregnancy or anything worse than very interesting hickies she grew to know everything there was to know about his strange amber body just as he now knew how to make her moan with a single lick.

She didn't understand the nature of her lover but that didn't stop her from making him happy as well and the fact that they made so little mess helped too. If he transformed back into a figurine right after sex even his cum disappeared and sweaty sheets are easier to clean than semen-spotted ones. Assuming that was what came out of his dick. Karen had swallowed her share of it by now and it tasted nothing like a man's. He was an amber lion and his cum was salty amber honey, which made a sort of sense. The important thing was he couldn't knock her up and his cum tasted good.

So over the weeks and months her neighbors grew used to the loud TV or stereo and she slid foam between her headboard and wall to keep the noise down when her lover-lion had at her on the bed. He was big enough that the bed really moved. She replaced a sheet when his claws slipped out when he came and tore them. (He had the good grace to look sorry.) And when she was tired and sated she would turn the lion-figurine in her hands and notice now much more the inclusion had shrunk. It had been bigger than the figure's head when she got him and now it was hardly more than a flyspeck.

And then one night she heard glass break in the living room and she learned something new about her feral lover.

Karen's eyes flew open in the dark and she reached for her phone, then cursed as she remembered it was still in her purse. She didn't have a land-line phone any more or any sort of weapon - she'd thought about the latter but the lion had made her so comfortable in her home any sense of fear had fled. Suddenly she realized how helpless she was if someone broke in.

It was Dieter, of course. He had given back her key but he must have made a copy and she could hear him cursing drunkenly in German in the living room. The bedroom door burst open and the kitchen night-light lit the side of his grinning face. He was naked from the waist down.

"Remember me, katzchen?" he slurred. She saw he had a knife in his hand.

"I remember you, Dieter," she said, and she was calm, for her hand was around the one thing in her room which might protect her. She threw the amber lion and Dieter's eyes went wide with fear as the tumbling figurine was suddenly a full-sized lion. The light glittered off its smooth flexible hide and Dieter went down beneath its weight.

"Hold him, hold him!" Karen cried, for she saw the knife go into the lion's side. No blood came out, though the knife came out shining, coated with whatever made up the lion's innards. It did not seem to bother the amber cat at all and it did not react when the knife went in again.

There was a muffled cry as she turned on the light and it was her turn to boggle at the sight. Dieter had dropped the knife and pushed at the lion with both hands, for the rubbery-gold jaws that had wrapped around her crotch so many times were around his head. Karen watched with a mixture of fear and schadenfreude - a word she'd learned from Dieter, appropriately - as powerful forepaws pushed her ex-lover into the lion's jaws.

She could see him through the golden flesh, see his face contort beneath the amber as the lion worked its maw over his chest. He stared at her through the amber as the lion pushed his butt against the wall and swallowed him to the hips in one long slide. The lion's strong, elastic amber flesh made it perfectly suited to swallowing a man whole. Dieter never had a chance. Oh, if the knife had hurt it maybe it would just have killed him. Instead it lifted its head, and with a toss of its jaws Dieter was swallowed to the thighs.

She could still save him. She knew now what was happening. That imperfection, the inclusion, in the lion-figurine had been a previous meal, maybe someone that treated the lion badly. Over the months it had slowly digested its meal, and she probably helped that along but summoning the cat up for sex almost every night. All that amber cum had to come from somewhere, and in four months the dark spot had gone from more than head-sized on the lion to a mere speck. It must be hungry, yet it had never eaten her...because it was her lover.

What it would have done when it was starving she didn't know. Ask for food? Maybe it could eat something besides people. It had food now, though. Dieter kicked and squirmed but with a toss of its muzzle he was gone to the knees. She could tell the lion to spit him out, and it probably would. Karen said nothing.

There was a rapid knock at her door and she dashed into the living room, careful to close the bedroom door behind her. In a moment she was reassuring her neighbor. Everything was all right, she said. She just bumped into a lamp on the way to the bathroom and was so startled she cried out.

Hurriedly she returned to the bedroom, in time to see the end. Even now Dieter's shoes poked out from either side of the lion's mouth, and it sat there with its transparent belly squirmingly full of Dieter waiting for her to get there. Still it waited, until Karen nodded.

Then with a flip of its muzzle it got its jaws around Dieter's feet and with two heavy, wet gulps it swallowed him down. Beneath the amber the man still kicked, and the golden-clear flesh bulged with each movement, but there would be no escape. Solid as the outside of her lover was she could see from Dieter's struggle that its inside was more like gelatin. Gelatin that she now knew would digest a whole man, given time.

"Good boy," Karen cooed, and patted the lion on the head. It shifted its paws to let its fat belly spread out to each side, and as Dieter kicked it let out a long, low burp. It was even smart enough to muffle that, lest the neighbors hear.

The inclusion in the lion figurine's body was big again, bigger than when she first got it. At least a quarter of the volume of the little statue was a blurry dark spot that might resemble a curled-up man if you used your imagination. Karen licked her lips and tasted amber-lion cum, for of course it was only fair to reward her lover for being so loyal and protective. Dieter had stilled by the time she swallowed her mouthful of salty honey, and now her lover was in figurine form again.

She put the lion back on her nightstand until the next time she needed him. She understood the lion now. It could have eaten her on any of a hundred occasions and it must have been quite hungry by the time it ate Dieter, but it had never hurt her.

He wasn't quite her pet and she wasn't quite his master but there was a friendship, a loyalty. She trusted him and he trusted her not to hurt him in figurine form or give away his secret. She was the only one who knew about him and she would have been in his gelatinous stomach long since if he didn't trust and value her.

So. Karen smiled. She had a powerful, dangerous and vigorous lover. Not so different from many of those romance novels she read. Some of them even had werewolves or other monsters as lovers. She was living a fantasy.

Her hand reached out and stroked the little lion, drawing him onto the bed, and suddenly he was full sized again. There was a ponderous droop to his belly but no sign of Dieter in his amber body; somehow, his meal was hidden. Karen rolled onto her belly and the lion stepped up over her, rubbery-amber fangs brushing her neck ever so gently as he crouched to mount her. The bulge that was Dieter pressed against her back but her lover-lion knew how to get around that.

She'd have to find out if he could eat human food, and maybe it was time to let Andrea know. It wasn't nice to be selfish. That could wait. Karen gasped as barbed lion cock slid in, and bit into her pillow. Her lover knew to muffle his snarl when he finished, and for now there was just his low, rhythmic growl and hot breath on the back of her neck as he thrust.