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The biggest problem with David Shaw, as anyone who knew him would agree, wasn't him being a Siberian Tiger, or him having beastly physique which he worked so hard to maintain. The problem was that he knew it. He was a man who walked with his chest out, displaying his huge, rectangular pectorals which he usually covered in skin-tight fabric. His muscles seemed ready to tear right through black striped orange fur. He had forearms like trees and biceps like footballs. His brawny neck sat atop traps that could've passed for shoulders. His back was a kite of thick muscle. He had a majestic face with hunky jowls made for boasting an arrogant smile that would narrow his golden-amber eyes.

He was a high school gym teacher and football coach, two jobs he believed a tiger of his stature was grossly overqualified for. He was the teacher every student short of an athlete hated. He'd stand in front of his class as he watched them toil to complete their warm-up of 20 situps, pushups, and squats. He'd never outright scold the meek or overweight who couldn't pull it off, but he did everything in his power to make them feel their failure. Lauding both his fit students and himself, he would use such glorifications to make the weak feel like the sub-beasts he deemed them to be.

These unlucky misfits could only look over to Mr. Turcotte, the mink who was Shaw's fellow gym teacher. Instead of puffing his chest out and booming his orders to the class, Turcotte would nonchalantly dote over his clipboard, barely paying attention to his students, who mostly shirked their warm-ups. Shaw's students could only fantasize about being in that class. Shaw allowed no holding back in his gym.

It was a Saturday afternoon when he drove his Dodge Charger to a fellow teacher's house. It was a beautiful day. The emerald green lawns flanking the streets glowed in the bright late-May sun. They would've shined even brighter if not for Shaw's gleaming white Charger grumbling rudely down the street. A badger watering his garden scowled at the souped up car as it passed his house. He shook his head in disgust. Probably compensating for something.

Shaw pulled into the driveway of a quaint one-story home. Before shutting off the car, he let fly two loud revs of the engine to announce his arrival. He stepped out sporting aviator glasses and his usual grin of confidence. Today he had business to take care of, and he looked forward to it. He strode to the front porch and rang the doorbell.

"Here we go," he sighed. He saw movement from behind the windows flanking the door. A tiny white face peeked through. Shaw lowered his sunglasses and gave a sly look. Even through the fogged glass he could see her groan and roll her eyes. She unlocked the door and opened it. A mouse stood there with an unamused expression. She was naturally diminutive at barely five feet tall. She had sheet white fur and striking violet irises made bigger thanks to the glasses she wore. Her ears were enormous pink saucers flanking her skull. She was stoutly built, sporting substantial breasts and broad, womanly hips. They were a study in contrasts, the two of them. The humble mouse and the mighty tiger.

"Farah," he greeted. "How are you?"

"Please," she said curtly, sneering. "Call me Ms. Curtis, Mr. Shaw."

He showed his palms defensively. "As you wish. May I come in?"

"Yeah," she said flatly. She turned around and walked in.

Shaw nodded, chuckling to himself. Off to a good start. He stepped inside and tucked the wing of his sunglasses into his shirt collar. The house had a boxy architecture. The living room was minute, separated from every other part of the house by a wall. At no point in the house did a room simply meld over into the next. It made him claustrophobic. Small house for a small woman, I guess. All of the furniture and decorations were equally tiny. The only significant piece that caught his eye was a framed advertisement for Shakepeare's Richard III. The poster was old, judging by the style of artwork and the wear and tear along the edges. Shaw guessed it to be from the 20's or 30's.

"In the kitchen," said Curtis's voice, out of the void. Shaw peeked around a doorway and found a bathroom. He looked around another and found a hallway. This would be a lot easier if this house was built like a goddamn normal one. Third time was the charm, and he found her sitting in the kitchen at a square cast iron table with two identical chairs. Seeing no other place to sit, Shaw couldn't help but wonder if she needed a man in her life. He thought he was a more than adequate candidate for that.

"Have a seat," she said, gesturing to the chair opposite her.

"Sure thing." He pulled the chair out, unleashing a devastating screech as the cast iron legs scraped the tile floor. Curtis just closed her eyes and chewed the inside of her lip, trying to maintain her cool. He sat down, dwarfing the chair meant for mice. "So!" he boomed. "Let's talk."

Curtis had disgust written on her face, towards him and the whole ordeal. "You're in a rush," she guessed.

"Oh no! I'm not rushing, I'm not rushing. Just thought I'd break the ice." He leaned back in his chair and rested his paws behind his head.

"There's no need for any ice-breaking, Mr. Shaw. Let's just get this over with."

"Now look who's rushing."

She rolled her eyes.

"So, do you have it?"

"Of course I have it. Why the hell would I have called you if I didn't?"

A look of feigned hurt came over his face. "Whoa, no need to get feisty. Maybe you just needed some friendly company. Some male company."

"Oh, please," she scoffed.

"This place feels real lonely. You shouldn't be here all by yourself like this, pretty girl like you."

"Stop it."

"What's that Shakespeare poster?"

"For Richard III?"

He nodded.

"It's an old advertisement from the Matrix theatre before it burned down. It's from 1916. They had an auction five years ago for a bunch of stuff that predated the fire."

"How much did you spend?"

"600."

"Wow."

She shrugged. "I like Shakespeare."

"What's Richard III about?"

She narrowed her eyes. " You want me to sit here and explain a Shakespeare play to you?"

"No, not if you don't want to. Like I said, I'm just trying to break the ice with a nice conversation." He leaned forward and rested his chin on his fist, showing off the edges and fissures of his diesel forearm.

"Can we just get down to business?" Curtis sighed.

He made a take it away gesture with his paw. "Proceed."

She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and pen which she clicked open. She unfolded it, revealing it to be just a blank sheet of printing paper. Shaw had expected something like a W4, for some reason. I guess I'm taking things a little too seriously, he deduced.

"So, how much did I owe you in the beginning?" she asked, leaning over the paper.

Shaw pulled a number out of his ass. "Ten grand." He noticed for the first time the two gold hoops dangling from her massive ear lobes. "I like your earrings."

She ignored his compliment, jotting down 10,000 onto the paper. "And I gave you 1,600 on that first payment, right?"

"Correct. Y'know, I've never taken the time to appreciate how beautiful your eyes are. They're like lavender."

She just kept staring at the paper, doing a quick deduction. "Ok," she sighed, sounding desperate to hold on to her focus. "We're at 8,400, and last week I gave you 4,000, right?"

Shaw wasn't listening. His eyes had migrated south from her dazzling eyes to her hypnotizing cleavage. E's, at least, he determined as he stared hard into the valley vivisecting her plump chest. He wished he was more familiar with the intricacies of bra sizes beyond just the ABC's. Maybe if he got a good feel in, then he could make an exact measurement. He was starting to ponder the size and color of her nipples, pink and robust, he imagined, when he was brought back to reality by a barrage of curt snaps.

"Excuse me. Hellooooooo," Curtis growled. "I'm up here." She stabbed two fingers towards her eyes.

Yes you are, and there's a whole lot of you down there too. "My apologies. What were you saying?"

She took an exasperated deep breath. "We were down to 8400, I gave you 4000, now we're down to 4400. Right?" She was ready to snap.

"Yes," he concurred. "4400."

She pursed her lips and started slapping the pen against the table. "And how much do you want now?"

"All of it," he stated flatly.

"All of it," she repeated.

"Yup. All of it."

She dropped her pen and rubbed her paws over her face. "Mr. Shaw, you're killing me," she groaned.

"I know it's a lot at once, but the sooner we get this done, the better it will be for the both of us. Or..." he began with a tantalizing grin. "We can come up with some other way to clear your debt." He leaned back in his chair and tucked a suggestive thumb into his waistband. Curtis lowered her paws, revealing her glowering eyes. He just smiled back, letting the offer hang in the air like a ripe carrot on a stick.

"Let me get my checkbook," she muttered, then stood up.

That was the response he expected, but he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. She left the kitchen, and he followed. She headed down a darkened hallway adorned with several pictures of her and her family. He would've had the decency to stop and look at them if he wasn't staring at Curtis's ass. Each haunch rose and fell gracefully with each step, wobbling as she went. Her cute pink worm tail swished and waved. Exacerbating her gorgeous posterior was the tight yoga pants she wore. It was a perfect blend of soft and firm, he could tell. He was beginning to unsheathe in his pants when she turned around and glowered up at him.

"I can make it to my bedroom unescorted, thank you," she said angrily. Her fists shook, looking ready to hit him.

"We're going to your bedroom? I definitely wanna go there."

She groaned and stomped down the hall. "Please, just stop."

He didn't, following her straight to her bedroom. It was surprisingly spacious, at least compared to the prison that was the rest of her house. She had a twin mattress that hugged the wall opposite of the door they entered through. There was a sliding door closet. She had a TV on her dresser and a personal bathroom. This is perfect.

Curtis went over to her bed, got on her knees, and bent forward to reach underneath it. With the side of her face on the carpet, she reached under the bed frame. Shaw would've thought it strange to keep a checkbook under the bed, but again he was too preoccupied with gawking at her leviathan ass to think about anything else. Her back was arched, tilting up her behind into the air. Her worm tail was cocked upwards, curled down at the apex like a question mark. The thin fabric of her pants stretched across the wide bend of her voluptuous rump. Through the finely woven threads he could see the white of her fur and the pink outline of her panties.

Curtis fuddled under her bed, searching diligently. See didn't hear him walk up behind her. He groped her. It wasn't a slap or pinch, which he considered doing. It was a swift cupping of her right buttock followed by a hearty squeeze. It felt gossamer underneath his manly palm. He smiled brightly as she yelped and jumped upright. She turned and gawked at him, her eyes and mouth a trio of shocked O's. There he was, giving her that jockish smile like he was proud of what he did.

She expressed her thanks by balling her fist, cocking it back, then punching him square in the jaw as hard as she possibly could.

THUK!

His jaw was nearly swept off of his skull. He heard a loud ping in his ears when her fist connected. The room went spinning, His whole upper body twisted, and he landed flat on his chest with a loud whom! He struggled to breathe. His mind raced to register that his mouth and nose were smothered into the carpet. Curtis pounced on his back. She straddled his huge back and grabbed his wrists, wrenching his arms up as tightly as they could go. Shaw shouted in pain.

"You dirty FREAK!" Curtis roared, further wrenching up his arms. "You fucking PERVERT!" He tried to apologize, but she grabbed his hair and mashed his face deeper into the carpet. Muffled shouts of agony rose from the floor as she twisted his head deeper. "You like groping women, huh? HUH!?"

She yanked his head up for him to speak. He gasped deeply. "Guhh! Oh my God!! Farah!! I-!"

She mushed him back down. "Shut the fuck up! You picked the right fucking one you piece of shit!" She kept jerking at his twisted shoulder, making him yelp pathetically.

"Erm urry!" he grunted.

She yanked his head back up. "What'd you say?"

"I'm sorry!" he begged. All bravado was gone. His pugnacious smile was replaced by a look of pure regret. His eyes welled with tears. "Oh God!! I'm so sor-!"

His face collided with the carpet. "I don't give a fuck!" She stabbed a sharp finger into his neck. She lowered her snarling lips right to his ear. "If you move, I swear to fucking God I'll rip your nuts off. Do you understand?"

"Mmhmm," he murmured.

She yanked his head up. "What?"

"YES! I understand!"

She flattened his face once more and stood up off of him. He didn't dare move a muscle. He kept his face buried in the carpet obediently, anxious to keep his nuts. He heard a drawer get yanked open aggressively. The was a jingle of metal, like keys. She came back to him, put a knee on his back, and slapped a pair of cuffs around his wrists.

Clickickick clickickick

"You fucking piece of shit," she grumbled. She stood up and kicked him in the ribs. "Get up. I said GET UP." Another kick. "On your knees!"

He lumbered to his knees, arms locked uselessly behind him. He wore a defeated frown. His jaw ached and throbbed painfully. She towered over him, all five feet of her. Her wrath was unabided. Like a goddess sinned upon, she would not forgive. She glowered down her snout at him with a palpable fury that surged through her. Her head was upright and her slowly rising chest was thrusted forward. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

She raised her paw and backhanded him across the face. His head whipped aside and he whimpered. He was close to hyperventilating.

"Shut up," she spat.

He sucked in his breath and grew quiet.

She sneered in disgust. "Just look at you. Pathetic. You call yourself a man?" He lowered his head meekly. "You're not a man, going around touching women. You're pure filth. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes..." he muttered.

She grabbed his chin and yanked his face up. Her fiercely violet eyes drilled into his. "I said, you know that, don't you?" Her breath beat against his face and wrinkled his nose.

"Yes!" he squeaked.

She shoved his face away. "You fucking got that right, scum." Blush burned at his cheeks. She pointed at his reddening complexion. "Look at you blushing. God, you're pitiful. You really make me sick. I'm fucking serious about that. Somebody needs to take you down a notch." She took off her glasses and tossed them on her bed. She looked even more ferocious without them befuddling her visage. Shaw shivered under her withering gaze. "I think you need to learn your place. What do you think?"

"Farah, I'm sorry. I won-"

She slapped him again, putting her whole shoulder and hips into it. "You shut the fuck up! Do not speak unless spoken to, bitch!"

Shaw gasped. He stifled a sob as his lip quivered.

Curtis laughed. "Guess I'm the first person to call you that. Get used to it, bitch." She squatted down and clutched the collar of his shirt. She stabbed her claws in and shredded it all the way down. She tore it off and looked up and down his immaculately chiseled torso. "Well, you do have a nice body. I'll give you that. She reached her paw out and pinched his beady nipple between the knuckles of her index and middle finger. He cried out like a girl. "That doesn't change shit though, bitch." She twisted and tilted her tortuous fingers. He grunted and whimpered through gritted fangs. He let loose a sob. "That's right. Sing, bitch." She gave one last angry clench of her fingers before relenting. His little pink nipple was squeezed into a puffy red. Now he started to hyperventilate.

Curtis scoffed. "Oh please. It wasn't that bad. I can do worse things." She shot her arm out and grabbed his crotch. "Like this, for example."

Shaw's mouth flew open to scream, but the pain locked the air in his lungs. What little came out was a raspy whistle. His balls ground together like a tangled Newton's cradle. Against his will, his cock slid from his sheathe and brushed her finger.

"Ah, there we go," she said smugly. "We have lift-off." She squeezed his scrotum with an increasing force. He squealed and sobbed loudly. Tremors rocked his body.

"Oh God! Please, Farah!"

"Please? Please what?" she inquired. "Let you go?" She clenched her fist harder until her arm shook. "I don't think so. You touched me, now I touch you. That's fair, isn't it? If you don't like it, well too fucking bad. Neither did I." She yanked on his balls, bowing him forward. His cords felt ready to snap like overburdened strings. "These are what make you a man, huh? If I rip them off, what does that turn you into? Wouldn't change much. A bitch is a bitch, balls or not." She let go of him and stood back.

Shaw gasped with relief, but the cushing pain still lingered like a tight cuff around his scrotum. He bowed forward, resting his forehead on the carpet. He sobbed openly, his face twisted with pain and humiliation. He managed to sit back up. Curtis was looking into her open palm, sneering in disgust as if she had just squished a bug.

She looked down at him. "I felt your balls. Now I know you're not a real man." He could only bow his head under the weight of shame, sobbing quietly. Curtis stuck her foot out and stabbed her big toe against his sternum. She shoved him and watched as he limply plopped onto his back. He trembled with fearful anticipation. She squatted next to him and undid his button and zipper. With a few quick yanks she relinquished him of his shorts and underwear. He shut his eyes. He braced for what he knew came next.

Curtis lifted an eyebrow. "What the-? Hold on." She pointed at the pink pillar sprouting out of his fuzzy white sheath. She stared in disbelief. "That's it?" She guffawed. "That's your cock? Oh my God!" She couldn't stop laughing. Shaw's penis was a total contradiction to the rest of him. It was pathetically small, a tiny twig of pink meat trying its best to represent his masculinity. It failed woefully. It looked almost like a gag, a prosthetic pasted over the real thing to get a laugh. Curtis swiped it with her foot. It bounced about and rebounded back into place. Nope. It was totally real, and hard as a rock too. It wasn't getting any bigger.

"Wow, David. Just... wow. I had anticipated much more out of you. This is downright pitiful. Look at it!" He couldn't. His head was twisted to the side with his eyes glued shut. His face was blood red. "Do all tigers have baby dicks? Or is it just you? There's no way. It has to be only you. Sheesh." She squashed her toes into his fuzzy white purse. She twisted her foot on his testicles, garnering more whimpers of pain. "You've been going around hitting on women with this little bitty thing your whole life? Unacceptable. Someone needs to teach you what a real man's cock looks like."

She stood up and stepped on his chest.

"Huhhhh..." he wheezed.

She walked over him and started to undress, her back facing him. She coolly removed her shirt, bra, and pants. She bet over, peeling her pink panties down her brazen thighs and to her ankles. Her wormtail cocked upwards, fully displaying the magnificence of her behind. Shaw flipped over onto his stomach and rose to his knees. He stared longingly. His little cock throbbed. She straightened up, drifting her index fingers up the sides of her calves, thighs, and buttocks.

She looked back at him over her shoulder. "You like it?" she asked quietly.

He nodded stupidly.

She hummed, satisfied with his answer. She playfully lifted her haughty mounds and dropped them. They bounced back into place with a vigorous wobble. She caressed and massaged them. Shaw could hear the faint whisper of her paws rubbing against her fur. His lips parted and his mouth began to water. What he would've given just to bury his face in it.

"How much do you want it?" she asked.

"So much," he croaked. "I want it so bad."

"Beg for it," she commanded icily, swaying her hips. Her ass itself seemed to demand respect from him. He would have been an idiot to deny the worship it deserved.

"Please, Master Curtis. Please let me touch it," he begged, sounding like a child. "I want it so bad, so bad. I'll be a good boy. I'll do whatever master says. You're so beautiful. Your ass was crafted by gods. I swear I'll be a good boy. I won't be naughty." His lip quivered as his eyes remained glued to her divine posterior, as if he expected an answer from it and not her. "Please."

She closed her eyes and smiled, savoring the raw desperation and frailty in his voice. "You really want it that bad, don't you?"

He nodded, looking like a starving child at a bread queau asking for more.

"Mmm, that's too bad." she said flatly, then walked to her closet, leaving a dejected Shaw to wallow in his own failure. She opened the door and peered inside. She twisted her lip in thought, as if perusing a menu.

"What's in there?" Shaw asked timidly.

"Hey!" she snapped, wrath resurgent. "Did I fucking say you could speak?"

"No! No! Sorry!" he yelped, crumpling where he kneeled.

"Alright, then shut the fuck up. God, you're annoying." She looked back into the closet. Shaw had a sinking feeling that him speaking out of turn influenced her decision, whatever it was. She picked something up and closed the shutter doors. She turned to him and brandished it.

Shaw's heart plummeted into a lake of icy water. "No..." he begged. "Not that, anything but that. Master Curtis, please. You can't."

"Fuck you I can't," she growled.

"Oh God! No, please!" His voice shuddered with his growing terror. "No! Nonon-nonononononononono!" He leaned back on his knees, trying to keep it at bay. It was the most intimidating thing he'd ever seen in his life.

"Heh, look at you. You really are a little bitch. You see a real cock for the first time, and this is how you react? Typical." She was holding a dildo, molded in an equine fashion. It was colossal at over a foot long and proportionally thick. It's bulbed tip was the size of Curtis's fist. At the hilt were a pair of balls that dwarfed Shaw's. It was made of dense rubber. It had a sky blue color mottled with white splotches. Its mere presence emasculated Shaw, but it was not its immensity that struck the most fear into him. It was a strap-on.

"I chose this one just for you, David," she said, admiring the malicious tool. She held the thick shaft between her thumb and index finger and ran it up and down the tremendous length. "I'm certain a horse of all animals will be able to teach you what a real man's cock looks like. Chance will be happy to oblige~" A malignant grin split her lips.

Shaw's lips twitched as he tried to speak. Say it, just say it. He opened his mouth. Curtis lifted an eyebrow, waiting to hear what he had to say. All that came out was a pitiful groan.

"Eeeunn..."

"That's what I thought." She tied the phallus to herself. One strap belted around her waist, and two more circled her thighs jock-style. The very moment she clipped the final strap, it was no longer an attachment. It was an extension of herself, a genuine piece of her. It pointed at Shaw menacingly.

"No..." he groaned, shaking his head.

"Yes," Curtis said softly, nodding. "You asked for this. You deserve this. There's nothing you can do to stop it.' She approached, her faux penis flopping about haphazardly. She came to a stop with her cock's tip only a breath away from his face. He could feel its presence leering towards his face like an atmosphere-shimmering heat rising from a stove. He tried to gulp, but his throat was too tight.

Curtis looked down at the tiger grovelling before her. "Kiss it." His face swung up at her, disbelief written on it. "You heard me," she said, her voice harboring a sharpened edge. "Kiss it. Put your bitch lips on it. I'm not going to wait."

He looked down the barrel of her awesome piston. Molded into the head was a tiny slit which seemed to stare back at him. You heard the lady. Kiss me, bitch. Shaw's stomach churned. He had no choice. He squinted his eyes shut and opened his mouth. A shiny bubble formed between his lips and popped. A meek whimper rose from his throat. He leaned forward ever so slowly, until finally came the inevitable union of his lips and her cock. His tongue tickled the tiny divit of her slit. He puckered his lips and kissed. His mouth contorted into a frown. He felt so small, so pitiful.

"Good kitty," she cooed. "Now suck it."

Shaw gasped and shot her a terrified look.

"Don't look at me like that," she growled. "I told you what to do, so now you're going to fucking do it. Suck my cock. Now."

He bowed his head and gritted his teeth. This was so shameful, so humiliating. Everything that made him a man was being stripped of him. This woman, so petite and small, was making him blow her. All because he was a sad, pathetic little slut.

He took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth. He leaned forward. His lips connected with thick, dense rubber. His quivering mouth parted further to accommodate her. He gasped and suddenly retreated. Strands of spit connected her cock and his mouth.

"Oh God. Oh Go Fuhhh... Oh..."

Curtis was not to be rejected. "Don't make me force it in."

Again, Shaw made his approach. He wrapped his mouth around her awaiting cock. His whimpers sounded hollow with her in his mouth. He held himself there for a moment, before she uttered one word:

"Deeper."

He obeyed, tilting forward with her cock gliding across his tongue. Before long she was at the entrance of his throat. He came to a stop. His nose was just short of halfway down his length. He held her loosely, whining girlishly. He knew that wasn't going to cut it. He had to do more. He closed his mouth fully and breathed through his nose. He pulled back and returned, whimpering the whole way.

"Mmmm~" Curtis hummed. "Good kitty. That's it."

On he went, going back and forth on her length in a steady bob. Tears rolled down his cheek. If it hadn't been for the huge dick spreading his mouth into a wide O, it would've been twisted into a deep frown.

"Kitty's mouth is so wet," she complimented. "You're very good at this. I'm sure you've done it before."

He started getting accustomed. His whimpering ceased, replaced by the occasional moan. It felt natural, his mouth around her cock. It was so big, the texture was so smooth. His shivering stopped. A buzz of happiness shimmied down his throat and into the rest of his body, perking his nipples and tightening his tail hole. She was so powerful. She was a living goddess. He felt honored to be pleasing her.

"Look at me," she commanded.

He opened his eyes and peered up at her. His golden-amber eyes glimmered in the sheen of his tears. She watched him with an indifferent expression, looking down between her giant breasts. Does she like it? he wondered. Does it feel good?

"You have pretty eyes," she said.

"Thangkhoo," he muttered, mouth to the brim with cock.

"You like big dicks in your mouth, don't you?"

"Mmhmm..."

"I know you do, bitch."

That word had lost its sting. He had accepted the truth. He was a little bitch.

"Ahm a wittuh bitchh," he mumbled.

"I know you are."

"Ah lahk bick cohks im muh mawf."

"I know you do. You like my cock?"

"Yeshhh... Ish so bick im muh mawf... Ish so bick im muh mawf!" He was on the brink of an emotional breakdown, her cock made him so happy.

"Yeah, of course you do, my sweet kitty." She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. A sigh heaved through her nose. Although not of true flesh and blood, the monstrous sex tool jutting from her seemed to truly feel pleasure. That made Shaw happy. She likes it. She likes my mouth.

"Y'know, it makes me wonder." she said casually. Her paw swung around to the back of his head and clutched a fistful of orange hair.

"Hmm?" he grunted quizzically.

She yanked his head towards her and thrust her hips. Her cock popped into his throat, making him gag violently. His eyes nearly popped from their sockets. She began absentmindedly fucking his face.

"A big guy like you who likes dick this much... It's kinda funny, y'know?" she noted.

His protests were repeatedly cut short by the rude invasion of her cock into his throat. She was so strong. He could feel the mighty clenching and unclenching of her buttocks. There was no way to wrench his head away from her grasp. All he could do was cry out and gurgle, broken apart by the plugging of his throat.

"Nnnngh! Nnnnn- ECH! Acch! Mmnnnnn- ACK! Khhhhhh- ULK!"

"Oh David," Curtis swooned. "You're gonna make me cum. You hear me?"

He gagged in response.

"Here we go. I'm gonna bust a fat load in your little slut mouth. Here it cums~!" Her face scrunched into a snarl. "HHHHNNNNGGGGHH~!" She slammed her hips forward and pulled his head. Shaw could make no noise. She had totally clogged his throat. She held him just like that for several seconds, his face impaled on her cock. Her orgasm, feigned as it was, was real enough for Shaw to imagine her thick ropes of hot seed shooting down his gullet. She pulled out in one quick withdrawal. The noise his throat made sounded like pulling a plunger out of a sink.

"GUUUUHHHH!" he gasped.

Her penis glistened with his saliva, oozing spit in long drooping strings. Shaw doubled over and coughed furiously for several moments. His violent hacks were separated by sharp inhales. Every gasp only sucked in more spit into his lungs, feuling his coughing fit. His throat stung and his eyes watered profusely. When she stabbed through his throat it was as if she'd penetrated down to his heart. It was the most crushing and exhilarating experience he had ever been through.

Curtis clapped his back. "Holy shit, David. I underestimated you. That was amazing, I can feel it in my balls. You liked that, didn't you?"

Shaw kneeled upright. His eyes were red and his nose runny. He nodded weakly. She grabbed the top of his head and batted her wet phallus back and forth across his cheeks. He grimaced, smelling the acrid scent of his spit on her cock.

"I bet you did, you little bitch, you slut. What are you?"

"I'm a little bitch..." Saying it out loud, with no dick censoring it, that word regained its usual bite of humiliation.

"That's right." She relented her dick slapping and patted his beet-red cheek. "Now get up. Be a good kitty and bend over the side of the bed."

Dread shuddered in his belly. He knew what that meant. He struggled to his feet and slumped over the edge of the bed. The gentle fabric of the comforter tingled his penis. He tensed as she approached from behind. She lifted his cat tail. He felt the kiss of air against the sensitive canyon between his buttocks. He sensed her gaze drilling into his little tail hole, a cute, pink pucker nestled in the plain of white underbelly fur.

"You've got a nice pussy," she told him.

He buried his face into the soft comforter. His cheeks felt like they had come out of an oven, he was so embarrassed. She splayed her fingers across his haunches and dug her thumbs into his crevice. She spread him, distending his pucker ever so slightly. Curtis made a crude hocking noise and spat a wad of hot gunk straight onto his little star.

"Gah!" He jerked violently.

She smeared the spit around his wrinkled crater before cramming her middle and ring fingers into him. He squirmed and whimpered as she twisted and jabbed around his insides. The muscles in his thighs bulged and his toes curled.

"You know why I'm doing this?" she asked throatily.

"Why-y-y-y-y?" His voice cracked and wavered.

She leaned forward and hissed into his ear. "To get you ready for the main event." Her words thrummed into his eardrums and bled down his skin as an icy chill. She yoinked her fingers out of him. Thhp! She winded back her paw and delivered a devastating spank.

PAP!

Shaw's head jerked up as he squealed. He mushed his face back down into the comforter, trying to hide his burning face and mitigate the pain in his backside. She stepped away and opened the closet. He heard the pop of a cap being opened, followed by the belch of a liquid being squirted and the swish swish of paws being lathered. A fragrance of aloe wafted across his nose. He knew what time it was.

She stepped up behind him and parted his cheeks again. Her paws were wet. "You ready, slut?"

"No..."

"Good. Here I come." Her thumbs widened his sphincter. Firm rubber met tender flesh. Shaw growled as he was forcibly opened further and further, until eventually his ass swallowed the head. His growls devolved into whimpers as she drew deeper. It was excruciating. She slid her shaft halfway into his ass and held it there for several moments, affording him some time to adjust. After his woeful lamentations eased a bit, she pulled back and began a very slow, drawn out process of fucking his tight man pussy.

Shaw was in a frenzy. His legs bent, straightened, and kicked out at random intervals. He pulled at the handcuffs digging into his wrists. He groaned and shouted as he was punished with an exquisite pain intermingled with a sublime pleasure.

Curtis held his midriff. "Mmm, David. Your pussy is so tight." The hilt of her cock was coming startlingly close to his haunches. He could take a remarkable amount, but not the entirety. Oh well. Her pace increased. Every individual sinew in Shaw's body stood out as he shook wildly. The pain was gradually being overshadowed by something else. It clawed at his loins and tickled his cock. It was a feeling that grew exponentially with each plunge of Curtis's piston. He let loose his first moan, and then another, and then another, each one louder than the last.

Curtis smiled proudly. "Oh? You like that? Huh, bitch?" She swatted his ass, quickening her tempo further.

"Oh YES! YES!" he wailed, his pitch rising to that of a woman's.

"You like my cock? Huh? You dirty little whore?"

"YEEEEEESSS!!!"

She sank her claws into his fur. "THEN TAKE IT BITCH!"

She fucked him like a mad woman. He screamed his approval. He begged for her cock, to make him feel it. She did, with all of her might, thrusting into his sweet man pussy as hard and as deep as she could possibly go.

When he came, the noise that belted out of him was a shrill ululation like nothing a man could make. His body went rigid as his penis spat a piddle of cum right onto the comforter. His hips bucked erratically. She held onto his hips, cock buried deep, like a rodeo cowgirl. His orgasm petered out, and Shaw was left a shivering, panting mess. She pulled out of him.

shlllllllp!

Her cock sported a mucky coating of greenish gel tinged with some blood. His tail hole was a gaping O. A stalactite of phlegm hung from it. Curtis felt proud of her handiwork. Shaw slid down the bed and collapsed to the floor. He rolled to the side, resting his back against the bed frame. His limpening penis had created a sticky film of cum plastered just below his navel. On the comforter was a sizable wetspot.

"Wow," Curtis said. "That's quite the mess you made. You really do love cock inside of you, don't you?"

Shaw smacked his lips and nodded. He hardly felt like he was a part of reality anymore. He felt like an albatross floating on the wind, while also carrying the lead brick of pain digging into his hindquarters.

"I can tell," Curtis said, then swiped two of her fingers across the puddle of Shaw's seed. She sneered at the odorous slime coating her finger tips. She reached out and poked them into his mouth. He suckled on them like a baby.

"You like cum?" she asked, head tilted.

"Mmhmm..."

"You like having cum in your little whore mouth?"

"Yesh mashtuh..."

She scoffed. "Of course you do, filthy slut." She popped her fingers out and smeared the saliva off on his solid chest. "Stand up," she ordered. He stayed where he was, seemingly paralysed with exhaustion. "Stand up. I swear to God you don't want to make me madder than I already am. Stand. Up."

He obeyed, struggling with his rubbery legs. Everything that wasn't his flaming asshole felt numb. He wobbled to his feet, completely unstable. She looked him up and down, paying particular attention to his semi-flaccid penis, looking like a pink bean as it jutted halfway out of his sheath. She shook her head and chortled.

"I have an idea," she chimed. "I think I can actually make some use out of your worthless fucking hide."

"Ok..." he mumbled.

She slapped him. "Shut up bitch." She shoved him hard in the chest. He flopped back first onto the bed, legs hanging off the side. She picked up her panties off of the floor and stretched them out, displaying them. "I think you'll look good in these. What do you think?" She didn't wait for an answer. She lifted his feet and slid her underwear up his legs and around his waist. His balls felt snug under the tight laces. The G-string wedged into his buttocks tightly. "Stand up,' she ordered, backing up. He stood, head hung ashamedly. "Pffffft... Ha! This is perfect. Hold on." She scrambled back to her closet and returned with a small digital camera. "You're gonna pose for me. I'm gonna take some pictures and post them on the internet for money. Understood?"

"Yes, master..." he mumbled.

She made him pose in several humiliating positions, capturing the femininity she had forced on him. She burst out laughing every time he'd strike a particularly girly pose. He got on his knees and rested his chin on the floor. He squatted down, legs parted like a stripper. He leaned face first against the wall and shook his ass. Adding to his misery was the chastity cage she had locked onto his cock, trapping his masculinity into a prison of stainless steel. She draped a black short skirt over it. He fought tears the entire time, wincing as he listened to Curtis's diabolical laughter.

They spent time looking through the smutty album together. "Ooh! That one's gonna make you popular! You're gonna make me so much moneeeey!" He tried looking away, only to have his chin wrenched towards the camera.

Curtis retrieved a black leather collar and leash from her closet and strapped it to his neck. She took off the strap-on and made him kneel next to the bed where she sat on the edge. Her legs were splayed apart, showing him her pursed cunt. It boasted fattened lips, blushing with a heat that radiated to where Shaw sat.

"I've been merciful to you all day. I let you suck my cock and made you cum. Now I think it's time you thanked me properly." She yanked on the leash, pulling his face towards her crotch. He scooted forward and humbly inched his face towards her predacious cunt. He blepped his little kitty tongue out and glanced it up her moist slit. "Mmm~ That's it. Good kitty."

With his face ablaze, both from his intense blushing and the breath of her feminine heat, he swirled the tip of his tongue around her slit, graciously savoring the taste of her flesh. Up, down, and around, he made sure to bump and nudge every corner of her pussy that he was allowed. She hummed with delight, looking down at him smugly as he pleased her.

"That's a good kitty, licking master's pussy. You're a good little slut."

"Mmmm~" he hummed merrily.

Suddenly, she moved one leg, planted her foot on his face, and pushed him away until the leash was taut. She dropped her foot and saw his hurt, confused look. His little pink tongue still poked from his lips.

"Tell me, why does a pathetic slut like you deserve my pussy? You're just a piece of filth. You don't deserve anything. Why should I let you anywhere near this precious treasure, hmm?"

"Please, master," he begged. "I am just a petty slut. I don't deserve your magnificent chalice. I don't even deserve your godly cock. But you were so kind to bless me with both of those. Please let me be so lucky to repay you in kind and worship your divine body." He leaned his chin forward and rested it on the very edge of the bed. His face was inches away from her cunt. "I would be honored if I could make my master cum. She deserves to have her pussy treated with the utmost respect it deserves." His head bounced as he spoke, his jaw being on the bed.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you fuck me with that tiny dick of yours?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"No! My cock is far too small for you. I would never consider insulting you with it. I merely wish to praise you with my tongue. I can be a good kitty. I wish to give my master the joy she has so graciously given me. Please."

Curtis smiled and yanked his face towards her. "Good kitty. You'll make master cum now. If you fail, my wrath will be terrible."

Shaw smiled like a criminal pardoned from the death sentence. "Thank you, your majesty. I am truly blessed. I wish-"

She yanked the leash again, mashing his snout into her wet folds. "Shut the fuck up and eat my pussy, bitch."

He obeyed zealously, making love to her powerful womanhood with jabs and flicks of his kitty tongue. He ensured every precious bit of her was dealt with. He paid careful attention to her womanly pearl, swirling and flicking his tongue around it as fast as he could.

Curtis did well letting him know how he was doing. "Good kittyyyYYUUHH! Huh! Ohhhh~... Uh! Oh fuck!"

Her boisterous voice encouraged Shaw. He went faster and faster. His tongue began to feel sore, but he did not slow. Like a soldier he marched his tongue and lips, so happy to hear his master scream her approval and announce her impending orgasm.

The kitty made good on his orders when Curtis wailed loudly with the arrival of her climax. Shaw's face was gushed over by a hot torrent of her waters. He flinched but continued his service dutifully. Curtis's tummy sucked in and her thighs shook like mad. Her mouth was hung open as she let loose her howl of joy. Her orgasm faded away. Shaw's face sat between her legs, soaked in her cum and looking up at her cutely.

"Was that good, master?" he asked.

Curtis caught her breath and regained her composure. "Mmm, it sure was. Thank God you have that tongue of yours, because there's no way that tiny cock of yours is able to do that."

"Yes, master. Thank you master."

She commanded him to kneel in the center of the room again. She took the camera, set it to record, and aimed it at him. On the camera's screen was the image of a pathetic kitty pouting up at her. He looked so small and insignificant. The huge, lumbering man-tiger was gone. All that was left was this slutty kitty who loved master's cock. He looked into the camera with those pretty eyes, so eager to please and obey her every whim.

"Say 'hi'," Curtis commanded.

"Hello," he said meekly.

"This is my little kitty," Curtis narrated. "He's a little slut who thought he could lay his hands on me. Now look how he turned out. I fucked his whore mouth and pounded his ass. He swallowed my cum and came on my dick. He's a good little whore when you make him. He has a puny little dick that isn't worth shit." She reached her foot out and lifted his skirt with her toes. His imprisoned cock sat locked in a draconian brace. "Look at it, so teeny weeny. He isn't a man. He's a whiny little bitch. Tell everyone how much of a whore you are. Tell them how much you love master's cock."

The embarrassment flared his cheeks. He heard the blood rush through his ears as his heart pounded. His throat was unbearably tight.

"I-I'm a little bitch," he squeaked. "I touched master's butt and got punished for it, which I deserved. She made me suck her wonderful cock and fucked my tight pussy. I love her cock so much... It makes me so happy. I like big cocks in my mouth and in my butt, especially hers. I'm a slutty little kitty. I don't deserve master's cock."

"No, you don't," Curtis concurred, then hocked a loogie and spat on his face, making him wince and whimper. "Scum." She pulled tight on the leash. He leaned back like a dog unwilling to go further on a walk. "You're mine now, my bottom bitch. I'm not gonna let anyone else have you, my naughty kitty. Your name is Danielle now. Say it, 'my name is Danielle'."

"My name is Danielle..."

"Farrah is my master and queen."

"Farrah is my master and queen..."

"I love her giant cock."

"I love her giant cock..."

"Because it's so much bigger than my baby dick."

Shaw's eyes closed. Tears fell down his face. "Because it's so much bigger than my... baby dick."

Curtis smiled evilly. "Good kitty."

"Good kitty..."

"No, you stupid bitch. I was complimenting you, dumb whore."

"I'm sorry."

"Shut up."

* * *

Shaw stood in the shower, embracing the warm water kissing his scalp and drizzling down his clumped hair. His body ached, his ass was on fire. Every wrong movement elicited a hiss or whimper. His penis sat safely in his sheath, out of sight. A baby dick, she had called it. It was pretty small, yes, especially when compared to that monster she had shoved down his throat and up his butt. He closed his eyes and lifted his face into the stream. How did all of that make him feel? He felt pathetic, emasculated, absolutely humiliated. He would never forget her punch, her slaps, her huge phallus filling his mouth or stretching his insides. The presence of her cum still burned in his nose and at the back of his throat.

He cut the water off and listened to the steady drip of water falling off of his fur. He had a body that was every man's envy. He conveyed raw vitality and vigor. Women loved to rub their paws over his steely torso and pecs. Yet it was a woman who had violated him. She fucked him and made him enjoy it. She called him a bitch, a slut, and a whore. She slapped him several times. How many men envied that? How many women would still be attracted to a man knowing he came with a simulated horse dick in his behind?

He stepped out of the shower and toweled himself off. He flossed his buttocks and saw that he had left behind a thin streak of blood. "Yeesh," he groaned. He tossed the towel into the hamper, then stepped out of the bathroom. Standing there was Curtis, arms folded, scowling up at him sternly. They were in her bedroom. She was fully clothed, her glasses back on her face. Shaw was totally naked.

"What's this?" he asked. "Some kind of welcoming party?"

Curtis's lips twitched and cracked into a smile. She broke down and laughed. "I'm sorry," she chuckled. "I was just... I don't know."

"What?" he asked, laughing with her. "What were you gonna do?"

"I don't know. I was just trying to be silly."

He shook his head, smiling. "I can see that." He walked past her and picked up his clothes. They were still strewn across her bedroom. He got dressed, sparing the shirt she had demolished.

"Sorry about your shirt. I kinda got carried away," she confessed. "You want me to pay for a new one?"

He waved it off. "No, not at all. That thing was cheap."

"Did you bring a spare?"

"No."

"Oh shit! I'm sorry!"

"Oh, don't worry about it." He flexed his massive biceps. "It gives me an excuse to show off all of this."

She scoffed. "Oh, please. You're such a boy."

"Don't act like you don't love it," he boasted, striking several cartoonish poses.

Curtis walked past him, backhanding his arm playfully. "Shut up, you dork."

Shaw followed her down the hallway, his macho personality back in full. The only subtraction to his masculinity was the literal pain in his ass, his sore jaw, and his floral aroma. Curtis's shower had nothing but womens' body washes. He certainly didn't mind.

"You smell nice," she noticed as they entered the kitchen. She cut the stove on.

"All you had was girly-girl stuff in there."

"Better than that Axe stuff all you boys wear."

"I don't wear Axe."

"Okay, then what do you use?"

"Old Spice."

"Pssh. Same thing."

He rubbed the side of his jaw. It was thoroughly sore. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could feel it swelling. "You pack a mean right hook."

She chuckled. "Serves you right, you big perv."

"It was your idea for me to touch your ass so you'd retaliate."

"Yeah, but it was your idea for me to punch you. 'As hard as you can'," she said in a deep voice, imitating him. "That's exactly what you said."

"That's true. I know a guy who teaches kickboxing downtown. He'd love to teach you."

"If I do that I might actually knock you out for real."

Shaw laughed. "I'd actually love to see that happen." He stepped into the kitchen and hissed as a nip of pain struck at his backside.

Curtis frowned. "I went a little big, didn't I?" she asked, concerned.

"A little? I thought you were gonna tear me in half."

"Awww..." She walked up to him and gave an apologetic hug. "I'm sorry"

"Nooo, don't worry. I asked for your biggest, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but not even that was my biggest."

"Holy shit. It wasn't?"

"No, Chance has a flared version."

"Holy shit. Thanks for not using that one. I should've said something either way. I was about to say 'eraser', but thought that I should man up and take it."

Curtis snickered. "You thought you were being a man by taking a big dick in your butt?"

He laughed loudly, voice booming in that tiny kitchen. She loved the way his hefty chest rose with each chortle. "I hadn't thought about it like that, but yeah, I did. How many men can take a cock like that?"

She giggled. "Not many, that's for sure. Hey, I got a present for you."

"Oh? What is it?"

She left the kitchen and came back carrying a tiny blue square. She passed it to him. It was an SD card.

"Oh, thanks! A memory card."

"Not just a memory card, dummy. It's got our photos and the video on it."

"Ohhhhh, right. Wait, so you're not gonna post them on the internet?"

"Pfft, no. But if you want me to-"

"No no no, I'm just kidding. It's a shame though, I could've been famous."

"Yup, you're a regular Victoria's Secret model."

She asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner. He declined, telling her that he had to work out that night. "You and your stupid workouts," she chided. She gave him a goodbye kiss. He gave her a goodbye slap on the ass. She didn't punch him. She simply moaned happily and gave him a saucy grin.

Shaw walked out of the house to his Charger, shirtless. Curtis watched him from the doorway and gave him a cute finger wave goodbye. "Bye, Danielle."

Shaw looked around to check for any bystanders. Seeing none, he grinned back at her. "Bye bye, master."

He sat in his car, roared the engine to life, and bolted out of her driveway and down the street. The same badger who had seen him enter Curtis's driveway saw him walk out and leave. He watched from behind his window, sneering at the sight of the cocky tiger displaying his tank-like build. He shook his head and left the window. I bet that guy has a small dick.

THE END