Chapter 6: Welcome to the Club

The new location felt colder, more clinical. Not the familiar basement with its cedar warmth and soft lighting, this was an old warehouse on the industrial edge of town. Concrete floors stained dark with oil and time, high ceilings, exposed pipes hissing overhead. The lights here were merciless: six powerful floods mounted on stands, all aimed at the single padded bondage table in the center like spotlights on a stage. All for Cass’ body to be laid out like a piece of meat. But a horny, enjoying every minute of this, piece of meat.

Beyond the blinding white circle, the room disappeared into black. Cass couldn’t see the walls. Couldn’t see anything except the three red recording lights staring back at him.

He was already secured when the feed went live. Legs spread wide and lifted high, soft leather cuffs locked around his ankles and chained to the upper corners of the table, more sturdy than before, I guess the tiger didn’t want his ass to have a chance of escape. His arms were left free this time, Roan’s quiet request so he could touch himself or hold on for dear life. Cass lay on his back, heart slamming against his ribs, but his cock was a little shrunken from nerves, probably not a hot sight at the moment, but he could feel the stage lights heating his skin and balls, so flattering or not, his body was out in the open for everyone’s entertainment. The fursuit head was on again: sleek black wolf, vision tunneled to narrow slits, every breath echoing slightly inside the foam.

Completely exposed. Cock, balls, hole, all framed perfectly for the center camera. A thin sheen of lube already glistened on his rim. He could feel it cooling, trickling slowly down his crack.

The door opened somewhere in the dark. Heavy footsteps. A low, rumbling purr that vibrated through the concrete floor.

The tiger stepped into the light.

A massive boy! Golden fur striped with black, shoulders broad. His cock was already sliding free of a tawny sheath, thick and heavy, barbs glinting along the shaft as he stroked himself and looked at his prey. The tapered head drooled a thick rope of precum that splattered audibly on the floor. This tiger was definitely ready for action.

Roan moved in from the side, positioning himself at Cass’s head. One paw rested on Cass’s chest, thumb circling soothingly over his heart. “I’ve got you, pup,” he murmured, low enough that only Cass could hear through the mask. “Breathe through it, enjoy it. I’m right here with you.” Roan leaned down and kissed the fursuit muzzle.

The tiger didn’t speak at first. He simply stepped between Cass’s spread thighs, massive paws sliding up pale inner thighs, claws retracted but pads rough. He rubbed the leaking head of his cock against Cass’s balls, slow circles, letting the weight drag over sensitive skin. Cass felt the heat radiating off it. Then a light slap, cock smacking down onto Cass’s sac. Cass jolted, a muffled yelp escaping the mask. Another slap, harder. His balls bounced, skin stinging sweetly. Roan’s paw pressed firmer on his chest. “It’s okay. Let it feel good.”