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The harsh unfeeling sun and the thunderous roar of the crowd assaulted the lion-man's senses. Titus instinctively tried to get up but the guard next to him held him firmly on his knees.

"Don't even think of escaping," the gruff bull chided. He yanked the chain round the lion's neck to make sure the young man got the message.

Titus blinked, more in disbelief than due to the sun. He had fully expected his first military campaign to end in a triumphal procession, except that in his fantasies he had pictured himself as the victor, not the vanquished. Yet here he was, chained, stripped naked and displayed atop a huge garland-decked cart. More carts followed behind him, all laden with banners, weapons, armour and other spoils of war, and at the head of the procession was the chariot carrying the army's commander. The man was a large, regal-looking tiger of mature age but still strong and robust. Clad in a resplendent cuirass, he stood upright and waved at the crowd as they cheered him. This was the man who now held his life in his hands, Titus bitterly thought.

A scrap of breeze rustled his long flowing mane. His fur was fine and of a soft cream color. With age it would turn a darker, reddish hue but for now the young feline still retained the gaily-colored coat of his boyish years. His body, though, was no cub's. As a son of the high nobility he had received the best food, upbringing and training money could buy. His teeth were straight and white, his muscles firm without bulging and his skin was free of the scars and blemishes almost always seen on veteran warriors. His buttocks were shapely and below his navel was a thin line of pubic hair which led straight down to a plump sheath and a cute furry sack. Overall, his frame was a delicate and rare blend of strength and grace, one that had attracted the appreciative eyes of both girls and boys back home.

The procession was now entering a huge square where thousands of onlookers were massed, their ranks parting to make way for the triumphant general. Titus shivered as he remembered the moments that preceded his capture. He and his childhood friend Leo had foolishly rushed ahead of the rest of the troops, their heads full of heroic visions, and then an instant later Leo was writhing on the ground, his hands uselessly clutching the arrow shaft that protruded from his throat. Titus himself was knocked unconscious and taken alive but now, as he felt the weight of countless leering and mocking eyes on his body, he wasn't sure which of he or Leo had been the lucky one. The humiliation felt worse than any physical wound. With his hands shackled behind his back he could not even shield his private parts from view. It was all unbelievable. True, a few years ago he had witnessed a victorious parade in his home city where hundreds of naked prisoners were marched through the streets under the jeers of the people, but these wretches had been low-born commoners, not noblemen like him.

With a loud rumble, the procession came to a sudden halt in the middle of the square. The tiger dismounted his chariot and headed for Titus's cart. The young lion steeled himself to contain a rising tide of panic. He had become increasingly fearful that his execution would mark the climax of the triumph.

The bull stepped aside respectfully as the tiger climbed atop the chariot and positioned himself next to his captive.

"My father is very rich, he'll pay any ransom you want if you spare my life," Titus said softly, his eyes staring at the ground.

The orange-furred cat grabbed the lion's mane and forced his head up so that he could not avert his gaze.

"It is not your family's gold that I'm after," he said with a grin that dripped with venom, "But its honour."

Without letting the youth reply the tiger put a foot on his back and brutally pushed his face to the ground. Titus could no longer refrain from shaking in fear. They were going to kill him, and perhaps torture him for hours beforehand for the vile amusement of the mob. He swallowed a cry and hoped he would find the strength to bear the pain manfully.

"Go ahead," the general told the bull.

Titus felt a heavy cloven foot step behind him. A second later a hand grabbed the base of his tail and lifted it, exposing his pink hole to the light of the sun. His heart raced and his toes curled in anticipation of an unknown, horrifying torment but instead of a cruel blade it was a wet snout that kissed his pucker.

"No, please no..."

The weak cry of protest died in his throat when the bull-man's tongue ran across his tail hole, covering it in saliva. The feeling was so unexpected that it took the lion a few seconds to realise that the act wasn't causing him any pain.

"W-what are you doing to me?"

The bull did not respond and instead began to force his tongue past the lion's sphincter to lick at his innards. Titus gasped at the intrusion. The organ was muscular, warm and disturbingly agile. Already he felt the tip of the tongue tickle the inside of his rectum and lather the body cavity with slimy drool.

Titus squirmed to free himself but the tiger planted a foot on his neck and prickled his skin with the claws of his toes as a warning. Far from being reassured, the young man felt increasingly baffled and distraught. The bull was touching the most taboo part of his body, one that he was meant to guard and preserve jealously. Of course this was not the first time another male had touched him. Among noble families it was accepted, even expected, that unmarried boys would explore their blossoming manhoods with each other, but anything under the tail was strictly out of bounds. Once, when he and Leo were kissing and fondling in their tent after a long day's hunting, he had slipped a prodding finger between his friend's buttcheeks. Leo had climaxed harder and faster than usual that night, but the two of them had felt so embarrassed the next morning that they never discussed the incident again.

"He's all nice and clean now, my lord," the bull said, licking his lips as he stood up. The tiger lifted his foot from Titus's neck but the bull replaced him, pinning the youth's face against the rough planks of the platform. There was the clicking sound of a belt being unbuckled and suddenly Titus understood.

"No... Not this... I'll be dead in the eyes of my family..." he begged.

"War is a nasty business," the tiger chuckled, "Sometimes you have to get your hands or your prick dirty."

He moved behind the crouched lion and grabbed his tail. Titus heard the sound of fabric rustling as the man extracted his member from his clothes. Soon, something hard yet fleshy poked his drool-soaked anus.

"Please, I could be your son," Titus whispered pathetically.

"Good. I like my meat tender, and raw," the tiger replied, and with a thrust he shoved himself inside the lion.

Titus let out a strangled cry. His virgin hole had been loosened and lubricated by the bull but panic magnified the actual physical hurt, and to the lion it briefly felt as if a sharp stake had been driven into his anus. The intense pain quickly subsided and gave way to a duller ache as the tiger's barbed cock raked the delicate walls of his rectum.

The officer slapped Titus's thigh to the obvious delight of the onlookers who cheered their champion as he rode the defeated enemy. The young warrior grit his teeth but could not prevent a tear from trickling out of his eye. He was being bred. The tiger was mounting him like a common pleasure-slave in front of thousands of people, and each thrust felt like a spear piercing the heart of his dignity and manhood. Even worse was the knowledge that every single detail of his humiliation would be reported to his family and friends back home.

"Oh no, no..." he mumbled between sobs.

The tiger was an experienced lover, and his slams and thrusts were creating warm waves of forced pleasure that coursed through his captive. With growing horror, Titus became aware of a rising stiffness between his legs.

"Ha! Looks like you discovered something about yourself today," the tiger gloated between two huffs.

Titus squirmed in an attempt to hide his shameful erection but his movements only managed to completely free his member from his sheath. His arousal had not escaped the notice of the crowd, and from the corner of his eye he saw men and women point at his crotch, laugh and clap as if this was the funniest thing in the world. He was fully hard now, his pink, elegantly-shaped penis throbbing and spurting watery precum every time the other male rammed his cockhead against his prostate.

"I am no monster," the general purred sadistically. "I want you to enjoy yourself too."

He reached out between the young man's legs and grabbed his erect cock. Ignoring Titus's feeble protests he began to stroke the rigid member vigorously, edging the youth, teasing his cockhead and only stopping to fondle his balls. His paw was surprisingly soft, almost silk-like, and soon the shame and rage in the lion's brain gave way to an irrepressible urge to cum. He tried to smother the rising fire, to tell himself that he could not degrade himself even further by climaxing before his rapist did. It was no use, the only way to bring his ordeal to an end was to surrender to the tiger's expert touch.

"Rrraaaaahhh!!"

With a cry that was halfway between a roar and a moan Titus ejaculated. The tiger closed his fist around the lion's barbed glans so that the cum squirted between his fingers instead of hitting the ground. He waited until the other male had stopped shaking and then resumed his thrusts at a faster pace. Less than a minute later he threw back his head, let out a sonorous roar and came inside his prisoner, spraying his guts with victorious seed.

With a satisfied sigh the man withdrew himself and waved at the cheering crowd, flaunting his dripping penis like a warrior brandishing a bloodied sword. Titus remained motionless, his rump still raised high and his anus wet with drool and warm cum. His breath hissed raggedly through clenched teeth and his face burned with shame. Now that the rush of his orgasm had subsided he had begun to feel a lancing pain in his ass but this was the least of his worries. Soon his father would know that his son had been deflowered in front of thousands of people and had taken pleasure in it too. He could not bear the thought of facing the old man ever again.

"I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did," the tiger laughed. He grabbed Titus's mane, forced his head up and wiped his cummy fingers across his face. The lion shut his eyes but the scent of his own weakness filled his nostrils.

"I'd love to keep you as my pet, but you are now public goods," he continued. "Do you have any siblings? Your brothers and sisters would make a fine addition to my harem after we conquer your home. Don't worry, I will give them plenty of attention."

Titus belatedly mustered enough strength to spit on his tormentor, but the futile gesture only seemed to amuse the tiger.

"Oh, so this kitty hasn't lost his claws? Let me warn you, your future lovers won't be as gentle as I was."

With that, he jumped from the cart and made his way back to his chariot. The bull raised his arms and addressed the crowd.

"As you can see, our friend desires nothing more than the passionate love only real, patriotic men can provide," he boomed. "Therefore starting tomorrow he will be offered for public use in the coliseum at a very reasonable price. All proceeds will go towards funding our brave troops!"

The delirious hurrah that followed the announcement left Titus with little doubt that he would be in high demand.