The Panther
Author's Notes: Just a quick little thing to get me back into the swing of writing. I've got a few ideas in mind, so it shouldn't take several months to post something new next time. Sorry about that.
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It had started innocuously enough: a simple gift from a friend. Aware of my, shall we say, particular interest in big cats, they purchased a large stuffed panther and gave it to me for my birthday. I was overjoyed. It was a good present, and I liked it very much. It got a prized place in my room, on the dresser across from the bed. And that was that.
Or it should have been. I've never considered myself to be a plushophile. Even toys of species I was very much attracted to have never held any interest for me, sexual or otherwise, but this panther was different. It seemed alive, somehow. Its eyes seemed to beckon me from across the room. A ridiculous notion, I know, but that's how it felt.
I told myself I was being ridiculous. It was an inanimate object, for crying out loud. I did my best to ignore it, but slowly and surely my self restraint withered. I found myself thinking about him during the day, distracting me from important tasks. After a week or so I found myself giving him more attention.
I gave him a name, Felix, and started allowing him to sleep at the foot of my bed. I'd scratch behind his ears every now and then as I entered or left the room, occasionally tell him how nice and soft he was. It was nothing major, I thought. Nothing to worry about.
Then one night after coming home late from work and barely managing to drag myself to bed, I saw him looking at me. His eyes remained glassy and beady like the imitations they were, but I was certain he hadn't been facing that way when I had left that morning.
I tried to brush it off as nothing, but It kept cropping up in my mind as I lay there trying to sleep. I found myself opening my eyes and sneaking glances at him, as though I was checking out a potential sexual partner. His eyes continued to look right at me. They seemed to command me and, before I was entirely aware I was doing it, my hands had slipped into my pants and began rubbing at my cock.
Even when I realised what I was pleasuring myself in response to I couldn't bring myself to stop. I held his cool gaze as I stroke myself to full hardness. I'm sure I couldn't have broken the gaze even If I had wanted to.
Finding them now all too constricting, I began to remove my clothes. I kept looking at Felix, even hurriedly pulling my top off over my head so he wasn't out of my sight for too long. Once I was naked, I crawled along the bed towards him, my now fully erect cock shaking in the open air.
I didn't question what I was doing. It wasn't strange at the time. It felt entirely natural, in fact, as I pulled him towards me and began to rub my cock over the soft fur of his muzzle. Somewhere in the back of my mind I'm sure I heard him purr, but I was too far gone to care. Eyes closed now, I set myself to rubbing against his soft, teasing fur.
I swear I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Looking back, perhaps it was just the friction of my repetitive thrusting, but at the time I was so sure the thing before me was a living, breathing panther.
His fur felt good against my member. It felt really good, and I could feel myself quickly reaching my climax. But then I stopped. I'm still not entirely sure why. I think I remember Felix telling me to, but that's impossible. He's just a stuffed toy.
I moved back to the top of the bed, pulling Felix with me, and lay with my back on the pillows. I placed Felix on top of my body, then just lay there, running my hands all over his fur. I wriggled slightly, enjoying the feeling of my cock pressed between our bodies, and knew this was how it should be.
As if by some signal, I grasped Felix by his sides and began to thrust, rubbing my cock along his stomach. I closed my eyes like I had last time, but a growl made me open them again, and I found myself staring directly into Felix's eyes. I'm sure I saw something there at that time. A look of confidence or dominance, but I was still so consumed with need that it didn't matter.
I continued to thrust against him, staring into his powerful eyes, the need to cum building. I could already feel my pre clinging to his fur, but concern over any damage it might cause was the furthest thing in my mind at that moment.
Distantly I could hear someone moaning, and it took several long seconds to realise that it was me. Moaning and panting like a needy slut, I kept my eyes fixed on Felix's gaze. I wanted him. I needed him more than anything. That was all that mattered right now. I was every bit the submissive prey being used by the dominant predator. It felt good. It felt right.
By the time I came, thrusting frantically against Felix's stomach, I'm sure I was moaning loud enough for the whole street to hear. It didn't matter. I came harder than I remember having done before or since, shooting my juice all over myself and Felix.I'm sure I heard him growl again, satisfied with his work, but engulfed with the waves of pleasure I took little notice.
As the euphoria of my orgasm subsided, it was as though a spell was suddenly broken. I was no longer being pinned by a dominant predator, just lying there, tired and spent, underneath a cum soaked stuffed toy. I pushed Felix away, feeling disgust rising within me, and curled up on the bed, trying my best not to think about what had just happened.
He's sitting in my wardrobe, now. I would have gotten rid of him, but the fact that my cum remains stuck and crusted to his underside has made him impossible to sell, and throwing him away just feels too cruel, somehow. I don't dare bring him back out in case something happens again but, at night, when I'm lying in bed, I'm almost sure I can feel someone watching me through the wardrobe door.
I'm sure it's just my imagination.